100 Movies Every Catholic Should See #34: The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928)
Directed by Carl Theodor Dreyer. Starring Maria Falconetti.
Carl Theodor Dreyer’s The Passion of Joan of Arc is, perhaps, the greatest film ever made on an explicitly Christian subject. Instead of beating us over the head with Christian platitudes, it instead offers a quietly devastating meditation on suffering, faithfulness, martyrdom, and its reward. It does not use any bombastic cinematic tricks or didactic dialogue to promote a “message”; indeed, it does not even have the benefit of using sound at all. Instead it relies on raw visual power and human emotion to convey the powerful story of a great medieval mystic.
The Passion of Joan of Arc may well be one of the greatest aesthetic achievements of the silent film era. In contrast with the hyper-stylization of German Expressionism (another film style I dearly love), Dreyer uses a naturalistic approach to his camera work while relying heavily on the emotive power of his actors. The raw emotion on display is absolutely breathtaking, not only from Joan but from her judges and her supporters as well. Maria Falconetti goes through so many emotions, from fear to determination to wavering to hope to anguish to joy, and the stark closeups of her face combined with her masterful expressivism drags the viewer through each one of these emotions with her. But Falconetti is not the only one putting on an emotional acting masterclass. You get to see her various judges break down, one by one, until seemingly all but the English soldiers are on her side. The judges' expressions shift from easy-going confidence to astonishment, anger, self-doubt, and ultimately compassion as each one is slowly convinced of Joan's righteousness and must confront his own part in falsely condemning her to the stake. And all of this conveyed without the benefit of the spoken word, using intercut dialogue largely taken straight from 15th-century transcripts of Joan's actual trial! The story, the emotion, the message, the power of the film must be conveyed entirely visually, and Dreyer packs more visual power and beauty into this film than I have ever seen in any other work.
The music accompanying the film is also spectacular. Unfortunately, we do not have any original score to work with, but several composers over the years have tried their hand at providing this masterpiece with appropriate music. By far the best is Richard Einhorn’s Voices of Light oratorio. Einhorn uses Latin and French texts from Joan’s trial, medieval saints, and the Divine Office as meditations on Joan’s suffering. The music is entirely vocal, with melodies inspired by Gregorian Chant set in the style of medieval polyphony. This style heightens the sacred feeling of the film, fitting for the story of such a great saint. You have to read The Passion of Joan of Arc in a similar manner to reading a Renaissance altarpiece, moving from scene to scene and character to character for rich meditation, and adding some of the best sacred music you've ever heard only deepens the experience.
All the aesthetic power in the world would be merely a resounding gong or clashing cymbal if the story behind it did not have great power of its own. This story combines one of the most powerfully tragic events of the Middle Ages (the trial and martyrdom of Joan of Arc) with elements of the greatest story ever told - the Passion of Christ. The spiritual significance of this story is profound. Joan's faith in God's promises are severely tested from every possible angle. She is intellectually browbeaten, physically assaulted, threatened with torture and death, and even spiritually abused through the withholding of the Eucharist and the treachery of a priest who pretended to be sent by King Charles. She suffered many indignities and withstood them almost to the last. Her one slip-up comes at a moment of severe coercion, persuasion, and public vulnerability, but as soon as she is back in her cell she sees her martyr's crown being swept away from her due to her infidelity and immediately goes back on her renunciation, seeing the promises of freedom and victory that she had hoped for as coming in strange and yet powerful ways - death and martyrdom. At this point her sincerity and innocence is clear, and she is given viaticum - something that would in every case be denied a relapsed, unrepentant heretic and apostate. Her very judges, those who condemn her to die, recognize the falsity of the charges they brought against her and by their actions bear witness against their own sin.
Joan's heroism and fidelity are present to the last, as she clasps the cross of Christ to her breast even while at the foot of her stake. Dreyer is clearly associating Joan’s execution with Christ’s crucifixion, as so many aspects of her trial are reminiscent of her Lord's. She is falsely accused, spat upon, betrayed by false witnesses, and even crowned and mocked in her cell. She remains largely silent in the face of her accusers, answering their shouted and angry questions with simple, profound answers. They nail a plaque of her charges above her stake, and even the stake itself, raised above the crowd, gives the appearance of Calvary. Watching Dreyer's incredibly evocative imagery, I instantly saw the influence he had on Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ and its own powerful visual style. Dreyer's incredible visuals are not absent for a single frame, and the symbolism packed into this film will take several rewatches to completely unpack.
The Passion of Joan of Arc is a must-watch for any Catholic cinephile. Cinema has never again come as close as this to being truly sacred art. Its profound themes and deep spiritual significance are perfectly complemented by the emotional performances and tremendous visual power of Dreyer’s direction. It demands frequent viewings over many years to fully unpack all the symbolism and spiritual richness to be found here. Unlike many more modern retellings of saints’ lives, The Passion of Joan of Arc is never saccharine or trite, but rather raw and devastating to watch. It’s not a “message movie”, but it’s message shines through loud and clear: be faithful to Christ, take up your cross, and follow Him. Your vindication and your reward will be greater than your wildest imagination.
I’ll make it a point to watch this.
Where can I watch this?