Profoundly Faithful. Spellbindingly Hypnotic. Hauntingly Overwhelming. One of the best films ever!

Rating: 10/10 (12 June 2003)

Finally got round to see, "The Passion Of Joan Of Arc" yesterday night.

One word sums this film up, Woah!
This deeply spiritual film conjured up an indefinable state of breathtaking hypnosis, I sat spellbound and dumbstruck by film's end. I actually felt like an unstruggling insect caught on an entangled web of anesthetically luring movie magic. "TPOJOA" certainly now ranks as a shining example of cinema's suggestive power to touch and stimulate, to incite and inspire.

On closer scrutiny, an intoxicating religious fervor was so expertly woven into the film's tapestry, it was inevitable that I too was swept up by the tumultuous mood swings and intense emotional momentum of this sensational work. Truth be told, I even felt like watching the whole film again to relive the cocooning comfort of this strangely uplifting experience. For the record, I was never this psyched up by an `old' film before, much less a silent one.
Of course, not to put a slight on Carl Dreyer's masterful direction, one single galvanizing element that held this film together was unarguably, Falconetti. This woman (reportedly having only acted in this one film) deserved every single critical accolades thrown her way.

Her face, those piercing pair of eyes, every twitch and every grimace, haunted me in unimaginable ways. With nowhere to hide my arrested gaze, that extra-terrestrial face miraculously leapt out from its screen confines and stabbed me right where it hurt. It was not pretty. I was a rubble of my former self by film's end. It was like I surrendered my senses like a willing captive, overdosing on this woman's internalised angst and suffering, till my mouth frothed and my eyes bled.
Okay, melodramatic gushings aside, being more of an "atheistic leaner" myself, even I have to admit that the intensity with which Falconetti portrayed Joan of Arc's religious piety to God and her calling was shatteringly convincing. Viewed within the context of its filmscape, those "clothed" men and sundry characters during the trial must surely have been blind (or sinisterly evil) to not be touched by such enveloping sincerity.

On a more introspective note, I was much astonished by this film's uncanny power to challenge my intellectual conviction. To claim that it did not even manage a superficial gnaw at my unwavering existential beliefs on that "fabled" man upstairs will be a complete disservice to the film and most importantly, to myself.
As such, not wanting to cap my exploratory swing in the great spiritual pendulum, I shall opt (for now), to appreciate this film on a purely secular level. Though this film did not completely convert my anchoring beliefs in the wonders of universal nothingness, it did expand my myopic view on mankind's struggle with something as abstract as faith and spirituality.

Most importantly, I did just witness a great, great film, whatever its religious underpinnings or however potent its persuasiveness. Consider this then, my highest compliment for "The Passion Of Joan Of Arc".