When we speak of Martin Scorsese, what immediately comes to mind — at least for me — is the man who gave us Taxi Driver, The Departed, Raging Bull or Goodfellas . There was blood, there were guns and there was anger — unadulterated and raw.
What are we supposed to make of a softened Scorsese, who is clearly trying to make amends for having made The Last Temptation of Christ that outraged a few?
Silence , based on Shusaku Endo’s novel of the same name, is a tale of two conflicts. One, which is all too apparent, is between Christianity — making inroads into 17th century Japan — and Buddhism. The other is a battle that happens within the Portuguese missionary, Father Sebastião Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield, with shampoo-ad worthy wavy, brown hair).
He asks himself, “Who is a true Christian?” Is it the one who does not have to express it outwardly (for the legitimate fear of being persecuted) or someone who would rather die than apostate by stepping on copper engravings of Jesus or Mother Mary?
Neither Rodrigues nor his Jesuit colleague, Francisco Garupe (Adam Driver) have such doubts when they embark on a journey from Macau to save their mentor, Father Cristóvão Ferreira (Liam Neeson), who they hear has given in to the Japanese way after being tortured.
But once they set their feet on the black beaches of the shogunate, with the help of their guide-cum-interpreter (a terrific Tadanobu Asano), the hard reality of the Kakure Kirishitan (underground Christians) hits them. But they keep track of their search for Ferreira.
Silence ’s pace is agonisingly slow; it attempts to be transcendent but instead ends up exuding ennui. It is almost impossible to believe that this film’s screenplay is by the same man who co-wrote for Gangs Of New York (Jay Cocks).
Rodrigo Prieto’s cinematography is the saving grace. His camera rolls with the patience of a hermit; it transfixes us at times. Every frame of the mountains or the seascape is worthy of a desktop wallpaper. When there is sudden movement, it is usually a premonition of a disturbing event.
But none of it adds up to a satisfying whole. That is because whatever Rodrigues and Garupe do is never interesting enough. At best, both are equally adept at expressing anguish-filled faces. The Japanese cast (especially Issey Ogata as the Inquisitor) add a teaspoon of zing to the otherwise bland dish that is Silence. The central ingredient that is religious debate, always potentially powerful, is diluted with uninspiring writing.
In the build up to this film’s release, there was excessive hype about it being Martin Scorsese’s child that was gestating for three decades. After the much-awaited delivery, we're left rubbing our chins: “That was it?”
