100 Movies Every Catholic Should See #90: Of Gods and Men (2010)

Directed by Xavier Beauvois. Starring Lambert Wilson.

Great films explore the universal questions of the human experience: Who are we? Why are we here? Is there a God? What is the nature of good and evil? What is the correct way to act? Directors throughout the medium's relatively short history have approached these questions from various perspectives, from the austere Lutheranism of Ingmar Bergman to the atheistic nihilism of Pier Paolo Pasolini. In this blog, we have set out to discover and examine great films that contain elements of the Christian worldview as they tackle these questions, however indirect they may be. In Christopher Nolan's Interstellar (#24), we learn that a self-sacrificial act of love is the most powerful force, capable of transcending time and space. In The Shawshank Redemption (#62), we learn to have hope despite the bleakest circumstances, letting that hope inform us in our every day. Great as they are, many of these films do not explicitly address our Catholic faith. As believers, we seek to answer these universal questions through the light of faith. Seeing the implications of our belief played out in real-world scenarios on screen can have a uniquely powerful impact.

Xavier Beauvois’s 2010 film Of Gods and Men presents a portrait of the Christian faith fully lived out, exploring the full implications and consequences of this worldview. It offers a profound insight into our fallen humanity while powerfully showcasing the transformative power of faith, deftly balancing both without falling into the clichés of faith-based films. With little pre-release fanfare, it seems to have slowly struck a chord with believer and nonbeliever alike, winning the esteemed Grand Prix at the 2010 Cannes Film Festival and earning a very warm reception worldwide.

Grounding the film in real historical events enhances its portrayal of the drama of the Christian life. The narrative follows the true story of nine Cistercian monks living in the monastery of Tibhirine in Algeria amidst a predominantly Muslim population at the outset of the bloody 1996 Algerian Civil War. These monks had lived in harmony with the neighboring villagers for years, providing medical care and paternal guidance while earning their love and respect. One scene touchingly illustrates this relationship when a young Muslim girl approaches Luc, the elderly monk in charge of medical treatments, and asks him how she will know if she’s fallen in love. With an avuncular twinkle in his eye, he goes on to explain different symptoms such as a faster beating of the heart and an indescribable joy, before telling her how he discovered the true love of his vocation.

One of the film's strengths lies in its calm, measured pacing, which gently draws the viewer into the monks' daily rhythm before the catalyzing events unfold. Beautiful shots of the nature surrounding the monastery are interspersed with the monks at prayer and performing their vocational duties. Takes linger longer than expected. The monks file out of their rooms for night prayer. One sprinkles seeds in his garden. Another pours honey into jars. Everything is framed within the context of prayer. Few films capture this sense of timelessness so effectively, while remaining grounded in reality, something that brings the drama of faith vividly to life.

Contributing to this authenticity is the actors' total commitment to their roles. The writings of the real monks of Tibhirine formed the foundation for the entire production, with one of the film's consultants—who knew two of the monks—offering guidance on characterization. In preparation, all nine actors who portrayed the monks spent a week living the monastic life at the Cistercian Abbey of Tamié. Xavier Maly, a non-Catholic who played Michel, dedicated himself to learning the monks' prayers and recited them daily in the months leading up to production. Another actor studied the writings of the real monk he portrayed and based his vocal inflections on a recording of the monk's final vows. All the actors received intensive training from the former assistant choir director of the Paris Opera in the Cistercian and Gregorian chants they were to sing. As a result, one almost gets the sense of watching a documentary. Melodramatic elements are refreshingly absent as the film strives to show with simple authenticity the lives of these real historical men and the difficult choices they were led to make as a result of their faith.

The crux of the drama in Of Gods and Men revolves around the monks' decision to stay at their monastery or leave as conditions rapidly deteriorate with the onset of the Algerian Civil War. This leads to a deeply nuanced discourse where the principles of the Christian faith — the answers to universal questions we all ask — all flung headlong into a serious practical application where the monks' lives are at stake. What is the nature of their community, their duties, their very vocations?

One of the film's strengths lies in its depiction of the monks' humanity. As Abbott Christian faces the burden of guiding his community toward the best course of action, the monks' fears and doubts are poignantly illustrated. Beauvois’s screenplay allows the audience to get to know each monk well as they struggle to accept a very likely martyrdom should they stay. A young monk, Christophe, faces extreme doubt and a crisis of faith, letting his frustrations boil over to the point of cussing out another monk. An older brother speaks of his family back in France yet admits that he feels his true sense of place is with the community in this dangerous situation. Luc, the elder in charge of the infirmary, presses his cheek to a large painting of Christ, seeking spiritual consolation through a tactile experience of uniting himself to Christ’s passion.

The brilliance of this portrayal of the monks' humanity lies in how it challenges the audience to face the same uncomfortable questions: 'How would I react to such a situation?' 'Would I have behaved any differently?' We are thrust into their shoes and forced to assess the strength of our own faith. At any moment, we could be faced with the same difficult questions. Do we really believe strongly enough to be willing to die for our faith?

Of Gods and Men is an uncompromising film that examines the implications of the Christian faith through a deeply human portrayal. A profound theological and liturgical sense permeates the entire experience, setting the drama of human existence upon a firm foundation of prayer and the sacramental life, an intersection of the temporal and the timeliness. Few films have achieved something so luminously beautiful. Of Gods and Men represents a masterful exercise of cinematic craft, informed by the principles of faith, challenging the viewer to look inward and wrestle with implications of their faith. It is not merely recommended viewing; it is essential for any Catholic.