The miracle is that The Apostle never backs away from the contradictions in Sonny's character, or from the jumble of moods and emotions in that first scene. What Duvall has created is the most complex, and certainly the most entertaining, American movie ever made about a flawed man of God. Sonny leads a thriving congregation in Texas, where he tours the revival circuit like a big-name motivational speaker. Then comes the fall. They wrest away control of his church.
Sonny takes a baseball bat to the young minister's head.
The man of God is now a man on the run. So Sonny throws himself once more in God's hands, and he buries his identity, along with his car, in a pond. At this point, I hate to say more about the plot, because so much of the film's pleasures lie in the casual unfolding of the story and being swept along in Sonny's wake. It even looks like someplace somebody might actually live. Sonny's flaws are serious and scary, and Duvall doesn't downplay them.