Dogma (1999)

reviewed by
Scott Renshaw


DOGMA (Lions Gate) Starring: Linda Fiorentino, Ben Affleck, Matt Damon, Chris Rock, Jason Mewes, Kevin Smith, Jason Lee, Alan Rickman, Salma Hayek, George Carlin. Screenplay: Kevin Smith. Producers: Scott Mosier. Director: Kevin Smith. MPAA Rating: R (profanity, adult themes, violence, drug use) Running Time: 125 minutes. Reviewed by Scott Renshaw.

Kevin Smith's DOGMA is offensive. Devotees of film industry scuttlebutt probably know that Miramax, DOGMA's original distributor, put the film on the auction block after religious groups started turning up the heat. Catholic organizations in particular declaimed the film's subject matter, many proclaiming it sacrilegious sight unseen ("I don't need to swim in a sewer to know it stinks," went one typical slice of logic). It won't surprise any of those folks when I say DOGMA is offensive. And I'm not even talking about the theological content. DOGMA should be offensive to anyone who expects more from a movie than two hours of a filmmaker's musings on every religious notion that ever came into his head.

Those musings are linked -- rather tenuously -- to a plot involving the very fate of existence itself. It seems two outcast angels -- Loki (Matt Damon) and Bartleby (Ben Affleck) -- have found a loophole involving the Catholic dogma of plenary indulgence, through which they plan to re-enter heaven. Circumventing God's will would, however, result in the end of all creation, so a human agent is summoned to thwart the angels' plans. That human is Bethany Sloan (Linda Fiorentino), a Catholic of questionable faith and even more questions about her mission. Accompanied by several celestial assistants -- including unknown 13th apostle Rufus (Chris Rock) and the muse Serendipity (Salma Hayek) -- and two very earth-bound assistants -- Jay (Jason Mewes) and Silent Bob (Kevin Smith) -- Bethany tries to save the universe between lengthy conversations.

And oh boy, are there plenty of lengthy conversations. Smith's eternity-threatening premise is probably meant to distract from an otherwise non-stop series of metaphysical/scriptural/doctrinal discussions on everything from the nature of God to religious intolerance. It doesn't. DOGMA is an incredibly long sit, a deep-n-profound dorm room debate of a movie without the benefit of cold pizza and beer. Sometimes Smith is simply snarky (a deconstruction of "The Walrus and the Carpenter" as a critique of organized religion), in which cases he often churns out genuine laughs. Sometimes Smith is serious (Bartleby's rant against God's unfair preferential treatment of humans over angels), in which cases he's alternately perceptive and tedious. And sometimes Smith cops an attitude (Loki's swift judgment on a corporate boardroom), in which cases you want to remind him that anyone who gives Jay and Silent Bob major roles in a film should look at the plank in his own eye before going after the mote in anyone else's.

When Smith actually does get into the events of his plot, things don't get much better. Smith has always been a filmmaker only in the most nominal sense, but his limitations are even more evident when he makes a half-hearted effort to add supernatural action to the mix (radically shifting the tone from comedy to grim violence along the way). In a way, the low-tech fight sequences have their charms; battles always seem to occur just outside the frame, and people come flying through the air from improbable directions. It's hard to cut Smith that much slack, though, because you can't help but think his choices are based entirely on his limited visual vocabulary. He'll point a camera at people sitting around a table as long as you'll let him. Ask him to throw in one piece of real action for our efforts, and he turns into Captain Coy.

I suppose the most frustrating thing about DOGMA is that, whatever your feelings about its messages, Kevin Smith is the wrong messenger. It's not that his insights aren't insightful -- he has some interesting things to say about faith, religions and self-righteousness -- but that he's pitching his weighty notions in such a scattershot fashion. LIFE OF BRIAN could get away with borderine sacrilege because Monty Python played it smart and scathing; DOGMA may be a sincere expression of belief, but it's too juvenile too often. Smith opens the film with a disclaimer that the film is only meant to be a satire, then includes a comment to the effect that "God must have a sense of humor ... look at the platypus." You simply _must_ do better than that if you want to turn sacred cows into fajitas. I hope Smith feels better about religion after venting his spleen into a feature film. Losing two hours to deep thoughts wrapped in limp jokes -- now _that_ I find offensive.

     On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 indulgences:  4.

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