Standing for Something

Rating: 7/10 (8 March 2009)

The Passion of Joan of Arc is a deeply moving story about the last vindictive trial of Joan's life before her martyrdom at the stake. Joan's story is uncannily similar to the story of Christboth were viewed as extremists; both were thought to be a threat to political power; both were told to deny their beliefs by a group of tyrannical clergymen; and both were ultimately murdered for their convictions. Joan, like Christ, becomes more and more at a loss of words as she is vehemently interrogated, knowing full well that her words are futile and that death awaits her. Her silence, in many instances, parallels the silence of Christ and is perhaps the most powerful testimony she gives against the brooding Englishmen who enslaved her.
Her story is also strangely similar to Joseph Smithfor why else would such a seemingly insignificant character as nineteen-year old girl, Joan, attract the attention of the great ones of the most popular sects of the day, and in them a spirit of the most bitter persecution and reviling? Some would argue that it was due to Joan's military status in the French army, and though indeed that might be partly true, I don't believe it's the full truth. There must have been something more in Joan's testimony that caused such "great ones" to behold her as a threat to the entire English government. I mean, why would a mere denial of her "vision of God" be enough to satiate these blood-thirsty hypocrites? There must have been something else driving their motives. Nevertheless, I find it very peculiar that she was greatly feared amongst such "powerful men." Extreme close-ups are used quite abundantly throughout the entirety of the film to help show the exhaustion of Joan. I believe this technique was used to capture how violated she must have felt: nothing but angry faces ranting and railing up-close against her, as if Dreyer was purposely trying to attack the audience so that they could live vicariously through her torment. One close-up after the next, we see the deterioration of Joan as her life is fed to entropythe audience feels equally as deteriorated by the end too. I think the use of close-ups was incredibly powerful. They allowed for a type of transcendence to occur. This transcendence takes the form of seeing the life in Joan's face fade more and more; concurrently the audience prays for her spirit to transcend the pangs of her body and be freed from the hell she experiences on earth.
The film, in this sense, has a very transcendental quality. Though the audience may never have to experience a martyrdom like Joan or Christ, they will feel the desire to want to be freed from their own physical bondage, pain and suffering. The film is silent, and as such, creates a sparse-style of transcendencesomething that speaks softly to the soul, unlike DeMille's abundant-style in The Ten Commandments. It offers a lot of room for reflection as we sit there beholding these intense images in holy silence.
Having mentioned transcendence, I believe the film has much to say about the relationship between salvation and man. As Joan is being savagely questioned about her "vision of God," the clergy keep reminding her that her sins can be forgiven in and through the Church. Never once do they mention that salvation comes through Christ, let alone Godit's always through the authority of the Church. I think Dreyer is merely trying to remind the viewer what history books have already enlightened the world with: that there is something strange about salvation coming from a "learned" group of men who appear pious and holy devout to the Divine, but who lack inner-conviction and act as wolves dressed in sheep's clothing. "By their fruits ye shall know them," seems to be the underlying theme to this film. These men do not emit the qualities of goodnessthey are depicted as fearful and angry; they stop at nothing to force Joan to confess a false testimony. They are like the Pharisees of old who attacked and stoned the prophets all to maintain and secure the appearance of godliness. Their fruits, however, reveal who they really are: tyrants of a brute nature.
One quality I really respected and identified in Joan was her humanity. She wasn't depicted as some sinless warrior, let alone saint who was constantly in God's good standing, but at one moment succumbed to the frailty of her mortal condition and fell before God to preserve her life. In this moment, she renounced her vision in order to acquiesce to the Englishmen's desires. It was contrived though, and she knew it. Feeling the pangs of a guilty conscience, she immediately called back the guards and repented of her sin. I loved seeing this character arc in her because it made her even more real; more relatable; more human. This sequence demonstrated the power of repentance, and how even the noblest of God's children are not immune to the temptations of the body. All must immerse their lives in the principle of repentance (i.e. change from man's will to God's will). Though God's will is often very personal and nebulous, it is not to be determined by the will of "learned, erudite scholars," but from careful adherence to what one considers is the right path.