100 Movies Every Catholic Should See #11: The Sacrifice (1986)

Written and directed by Andrei Tarkovsky. Starring Erland Josephson, Susan Fleetwood, Allan Edwall, and Tommy Kjellqvist.

“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”  John 15:13

This passage from the Gospel of John encompasses the nature of Christian sacrifice, the willful laying down of one’s life for the sake of those for whom he cares most dearly. This ideal love is, and has always been, the heart of the Christian faith. But what does this type of sacrifice truly look like in the life of man? Is this something that can be achieved in man’s fallen state, or is this perfect love unattainable? Andrei Tarkovsky, arguably Russia’s greatest filmmaker, chose to answer this question and create, for his final film, a moving contemplation on the true nature of Christian sacrifice. At once a powerful Christian parable, a staggering feat of methodical filmmaking, and a culmination of Tarkovsky’s life and works, The Sacrifice stands as a monumental achievement from a profoundly spiritual artist, one who sought with each film to capture the good, the true, and the beautiful in every jaw-dropping frame.

The story is outwardly simple. It begins with the birthday party of a middle-aged man named Alexander, a retired actor and active philosopher, who has a small gathering of family and friends join him at his country estate. The beautiful home is occupied by his wife, with whom he is estranged, his adult stepdaughter, and their young son, temporarily mute from a throat operation. Various servants are also present, most notably a maid by the name of Maria, who plays a major role later on. The guests who attend include his friend Otto, who is a postman (a messenger on many storytelling levels), and Victor, a medical doctor who performed the operation on their son’s throat that left him temporarily mute. The guests have all congregated in the home, when the house begins to rumble. The guests are thrown into a panic as they soon learn that nuclear war has begun, and they become trapped in the estate for the foreseeable future. Unsure how to proceed with their current situation, Alexander, who up to this point has had no relationship with God, begins to bargain with Him. He fears deeply for his family’s safety, and in a desperate bid to ensure they remain safe, vows to God that he will renounce all that he has, including his own family, if it means that the nuclear war will leave them untouched. 

What follows grows increasingly more surreal, and through a series of dreamlike events, Alexander pursues what he must pursue in order to keep his end of the bargain with God. After his wife has a breakdown, and the family have done what they can to prevent their son (Little Man) from discovering the state the world has fallen into, Alexander becomes determined. He is first visited in his room by the postman, who tells him to go to the servant Maria’s house and lie with her. Insisting Maria is “a witch in the best sense”, the postman’s directions are strange, but Alexander follows this instruction, and lies with Maria. This union with Maria offers him a moment of transcendence, and it is unclear if they lie together in sexual union, or if she simply embraces him in a nurturing way. Either way, we are shown Alexander in Maria’s arms levitating over the bed (almost resembling La Pieta). This alludes to Alexander having a spiritual awakening, and embracing a mother figure as a way to achieve greater unity with God. Waking up, all seems at peace, but he is still determined to keep his end of the bargain. Maria provided him the strength to do so, and after tricking his family and friends to get out of the house, he proceeds to set fire to everything he owns. Running around like a madman, he has lost the respect and understanding of the world, because giving up worldly possessions also means giving up worldly status, and Alexander is taken away to a mental institution, giving up his family as he promised God. He also gives up his voice and refuses to speak or explain his actions to anyone. He has done what he feels he must do. Looking out at the surrounding countryside, Maria sees the jet fighters have stopped, and despite the home burning to the ground there is a restored sense of peace. Maria sees Little Man lying under a tree that he and his father planted together, and is heard speaking for the first time since his operation, uttering the Gospel of John; “In the Beginning, there was the Word.” He then asks quietly, “why is that papa?” A father loses his voice, but a child gains his own voice again. This final scene is a hopeful suggestion from Tarkovsky that Alexander’s sacrifice was not in vain, and that this act of love will bear fruit.

Stylistically, Andrei Tarkovsky is perhaps best known for his theory of cinema as “sculpting in time” which he used to heighten the sense of time passing for the viewers by using long takes and minimal cuts throughout the film. This also gives his films the feeling of moving paintings, where shots linger for long periods on carefully framed settings, and characters only sporadically move or speak. Challenging at first, his films develop a sense of rhythm that seems to mimic the feeling of being alive and experiencing it through every sense in real time. For The Sacrifice, this feeling works to the advantage of his story, where viewers are allowed to feel the weight of time passing for Alexander, a man deeply immersed in memory and regret from his past, looking for a sense of meaning in his present life. Deeply aware of man’s folly throughout history and unsure where he stands with his Creator, he finally breaks when the world does, and as the uncertainty of war presses down from all sides, the desire to abandon all that he clings to increases. Through unparalleled craft, Tarkovsky allows viewers to experience Alexander’s spiritual awakening as if it is their own awakening, changing the viewers’ own world by reflecting it through his art, letting them experience transcendent truth through his creation.

Understanding where Tarkovsky was in his own life only enhances the viewing experience and makes one appreciate the meticulous care placed in each thoughtful frame. Tarkovsky was dying of lung cancer while shooting the film, and he dedicated the film to his son knowing that he would die soon after its completion. This adds a personal layer to the film’s story about an aging artist giving up everything he has for the sake of his son. Tarkovsky considered art in such a way; “the aim of art is to prepare a person for death, to plough and harrow his soul, making him capable of turning toward the good.” Each film he directed sought to deliver transcendent truth through the narratives, but The Sacrifice can truly be considered the culmination of this aim, where he makes clear that all things must in the end be given up for love of neighbor. In the case of Alexander, it was for the sake of his family. In the case of Tarkovsky, it was for the sake of his heavenly father, preparing for death and passing this truth on to his son, his art imitating his life.

The Sacrifice is included in the Vatican film list under the Art category. Its value as a work of cinema cannot be argued, but its value as a testament to authentic Christian virtue, radical abandonment to the divine in the face of a world that resists the divine at every turn, cannot be overstated. Tarkovsky’s choice to end both his life and career with this visually and emotionally stunning parable of Christian sacrifice speaks to his legacy as one of the few authentic Christian film directors, and watching The Sacrifice, one can see the soul of an artist who truly believed in the saving power of the cross.