'Dogma' provokes band bewilders before, at last, affirming

By Duane Dudek
Journal Sentinel film critic

Passing judgment is reserved for God, director Kevin Smith warns in the tongue-in-cheek disclaimer that precedes his new film "Dogma." But everyone is entitled to his or her opinion, and "Dogma" will provoke a host of them all along the secular vs. spiritual continuum - from you-can't-do-say-or-think-that fundamentalism to the nothing-is-sacred school of thought. The non-committal will discover that even the middle ground is a minefield.

The Book of Revelation warns against being lukewarm in your faith - here I show that even a scoundrel can find a Bible quote to support a particular position - and reaction to "Dogma" will invariably run hot or cold. Smith is clearly as passionate about his faith as he is frank about his problems with it.

Smith, whose previous films include "Clerks" and "Chasing Amy," is a baptized Catholic and confirmed satirist who uses the tools at his disposal - a fertile imagination and a still-rudimentary cinematic style - to explore living a spiritual life in the material world. And he is more enamored with the idea of God than with the many institutions man has created in God's name.

So "Dogma" runs roughshod over church bureaucrats, spews theological gibberish and endorses a flexible faith based on ideas rather than beliefs.

"You can't change a belief," says one character. "You can change an idea."

Smith imagines killer angels, cursing prophets, a nude apostle, a winged seraph, a stripper muse and a whimsical God played as if autistic by Alanis Morissette. He juxtaposes theological monologues and familiar religious symbols with profanity and base humor. One of the villains emerges from a toilet and resembles human waste.

The film portrays an attempt to modernize the church by substituting the image of the Crucifixion with a thumbs-up Savior called "the buddy Christ." Jesus "did not come to earth to give us the willies," says an archbishop, played by George Carlin.

The narrative arc is an elementary reworking of secular fantasies like "The Wizard of Oz" or "Star Wars." A heroine, played by Linda Fiorentino (she works in an abortion clinic and is a shirttail relative of the Blessed Virgin) is recruited by a droll angel (Alan Rickman, whose flaming appearance she attempts to suffocate with a fire extinguisher) to stop rogue angels Ben Affleck and Matt Damon from using a loophole to get back into heaven.

If the rogue angels succeed, it will bring about the apocalypse. But they are so tired of spending eternity in the Milwaukee airport - Smith's vision of hell - that they don't care. And since they are avenging angels, they leave a trail of destruction in their wake.

Fiorentino, meanwhile, unwittingly picks up the weapons she needs to battle them - Smith and Jason Mewes as the prophets Silent Bob and the idiotically foul-mouthed Jay (who appear in all of Smith's films) and Chris Rock as the 13th apostle, still blaming racism for the fact that he didn't make the varsity squad.

The location shooting and modest special effects make this Smith's most technically ambitious film, which is not saying much considering the static nature of his other work. All his films are dialogue-driven, and "Dogma's" breakneck theological riffs are as bewildering as they are faith-affirming.

The most surprising thing about "Dogma" may be the traditional values it affirms. Just as the lesbian romance "Chasing Amy" concluded that love conquers all, Smith finds faith a constant in a world worth saving after all.