Movie Review: The Da Vinci Code

In his editorial in the June issue of The Rake, Tom Bartel (Carleton '73, I feel this entitles me to rag on him a little, yes?) comments on what he considered the uncanny likenesses between the central conflict and characters in The Da Vinci Code and the politics and personae of contemporary left/right, Democrat/Republican debates. According to Bartel, it all boils down to religious faith, or in particular, a conflict between dogmatic "believers" and a more "true" and compassionate secular humanism. I'm not sure if he was referring to the book exactly or to Ron Howard's filmic interpretation, but if the book does not emphasize this political conflict (and personally, having read it, I don't believe it does), Howard's film certainly does. To me, the film was a cross between Indiana Jones and Dogma, preserving the suspense of the former, the liberal politics of the latter (even similarities in the mythology in which a non-believing woman turns out to be the last descendant of Christ), but the DVC loses the humor of both. Fortunately, the film ejects the book's daddy-love romance between the young ingenue and the older professor, and instead spends more time on the mystery, literally illustrating (illuminating?) its points with visually lush historical flashbacks. But, by foregrounding the mystery, the film wades deeper into the tidepool of so-called heresy and tests the limits of the public's tolerance. The clues to the mystery are so compelling, and the ending so emotionally provocative, I couldn't help but feel persuaded to think that perhaps the bloodline of Christ might still survive, though maybe it's just getting harder for me to believe in a thirty-year-old virgin, whatever his parentage. The grail-quest in the DVC is portrayed as a quest for liberation and enlightenment, a freeing of the masses from the tyranny of a corrupt Vatican. I can't help but think that American audiences watching the creepy relationship between an elder Bishop Aringarosa and the self-flagellating younger monk must certainly be reminded of the recent scandals in the American Catholic church over molestation and pedophilia. According to Ron Howard, the history of the Catholic church is a bloody tale of despotism and corrupt patriarchy. In other words, if the church is not up in arms over this film, then they're either not paying attention or they have something sneaky up their papal sleeves.
I liked the film, if only as a beautifully shot and well-orchestrated puzzle. Any shortcomings, in my opinion, derive themselves from Dan Brown's novel. The story flirts with deeper questions like the nature of humanity and faith, yet ultimately these are reduced to the same dichotomies found through the symbology of the puzzles -- man/woman, good/evil, etc. The characters' motivations are pathologized as bland early childhood traumas, while faith and the ultimate good are left up to individual choice. On the other hand, the film invites us to answer the question that is left open at the end of the film. Do we put our faith in a belief system that divides us, pits us against one another, against certain "lifestyle choices," or even the pursuit of science? Or, do we place our faith in the resilience and creativity of humanity? As Robert Langdon (Tom Hanks) remarks at the conclusion of the film, we do not have proof that Jesus was married and had a daughter, nor do we have proof that he was the son of God and died celibate. If our beliefs no longer serve us, if they no longer describe or explain the world in which we live, do we cling automatically to outmoded ideas, or do we reach for new ideologies?