Scorsese's most personal film to date

Rating: 8/10 (15 April 2017)

At the age of 74 and with 50-odd years in the business, Martin Scorsese shows no sign of letting up, whether it be in terms of quantity or quality. His movies are still routinely up for all the big awards, and his name alone is enough to sell a picture (although the presence of Leonardo Di Caprio in recent years will surely have had a hand in that). His last feature, The Wolf of Wall Street, saw the director at his most free-spirited, spinning a tale of white- collar crime that was both incredibly funny and outrageously over- the-top. It now feels like Scorsese may have been flushing some pent-up energy out of his system before he finally tackled a passion project 25 years in the making: his long talked-about adaptation of Shusaku Endo's novel Silence.
In 17th-century Japan, Christians are being forced to renounce their beliefs in the face of horrific torture, as a samurai referred to as 'the inquisitor' prowls small villages hoping to snuff out anyone hiding religious idols with the image of Christ or the cross. In Macau, Jesuit priests Sebastiao Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield) and Francisco Garupe (Adam Driver) learn that their former tutor Father Ferreira (Liam Neeson), who had travelled to Japan to spread the word of God, has apostatised and integrated himself into Japanese society. Believing the rumour to be nothing but propaganda, the two priests travel to Japan with the help of drunken sailor Kichijiro (Yosuke Kubozuka), who has witnessed first hand the brutal acts of the inquisitor. Upon arriving in Nagasaki, Rodrugues and Garupe find poor communities going to desperate lengths to worship in secret as eyes and ears lurk everywhere.
Scorsese has spoken often about his Catholicism, and has made it the subject of many of his best works. The most obvious being The Last Temptation of Christ (1988), but you can trace themes of Catholic guilt way back to Mean Streets (1973). A few of the characters in Silence struggle with the absence of God, and Rodrigues in particular struggles to comprehend a God who would sit back as thousands are tortured and murdered because of their faith. Scorsese explores this theme in a slow, considered manner, and it's clear that this may be the most personal film he's ever made. At almost 3 hours, the scope and vision of the story are a perfect fit for Scorsese's eye for classical film-making. There are plenty of beautifully framed shots, capturing both the beauty of the landscape and the brutality dwelling within. With a cast full of Japanese faces unfamiliar to Western audiences and a narrative happy to dwell on contemplative conversations, it's no wonder that this is one of the film-maker's lowest-grossing movies in years, but there is plenty to savour here from a purely cinematic perspective.
When I first heard about the film, I wondered why Scorsese hadn't opted for Driver, who is clearly the stronger screen presence of the two leading actors, in the central role. But, combined with his Oscar-nominated performance in Mel Gibson's Hacksaw Ridge earlier this year, Garfield has cemented himself as a compelling leading man, and has finally rid himself of Sony's Amazing Spider-Man stigma. Driver has surprisingly limited screen-time, but he commands the screen whenever he's on it. The same can be said for Neeson, who leaves an impact in what adds up to only a handful of scenes. The film belongs to Garfield, whose boyish good-looks make his inner turmoil all the more gut-wrenching, as he watches folk put to death by high-tide crucifixion or burned at the stake, after they refuse to take part in a symbolic denouncement of faith by stepping on a slab with the image of Jesus. It received only a solitary Oscar nomination for Best Cinematography, but it seems Scorsese made this for himself, and the most personal visions can speak the loudest of words.