Two Jesuit priests, Sebastiao Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield) and Francisco Garupe (Adam Driver), land clandestinely on the coasts of Japan, in the Nagasaki region, in search of their former teacher, Father Ferreira (Liam Neeson). Rumour has it that the Jesuit has apostatised, married a Japanese woman and now lives as a Buddhist. They are immediately taken in and hidden in peasant communities that welcome them with fervour. It is the beginning of an ordeal that will lead one to death and the other to denial. This is the plot of Silence, Martin Scorsese's latest film, adapted from a novel by Shusaku Endo (1966).
The meanings of silence. Silence is above all the silence of God. Persecutions against the faithful increased in ever smaller numbers under the helpless gaze of the Jesuit fathers.
Scenes of torture follow, in which we see peasants from Kirishtan suffering and screaming, condemned to crucifixion, drowning or decapitation. Although the Jesuits inevitably think of the first Christians persecuted by the Romans, in the time of the catacombs, they were dismayed by the apparent absurdity of this outbreak of violence.
The silence is also the silence of the clandestine life in which Christians live. Taking refuge in a charcoal-burning hut, the two Jesuit fathers must avoid the slightest noise at all costs so as not to attract attention.
Le Silence is finally working on the soundtrack. The music, which seems absent for a long time, blends imperceptibly with natural elements. The wind here is not the breath of God but that of nature which crushes the disoriented Jesuits in a country they do not know.
Kurosawa's shadow seems to float over a film where fog, smoke and sea mix in impressive landscapes that are more Japanese than real, since they were filmed in Taiwan. Thanks to the talent of his director of photography, Scorsese, an urban filmmaker par excellence, he manages to immerse us in another universe.
Far from the spectacular and sometimes artificial agitation of some of his recent films, Scorsese always follows the same path. Whether he paints the slums or the salons of New York, whether he depicts mobsters or businessmen, he remains faithful to his deep concerns.
Like his protagonist, who has apparently renounced his faith, Scorsese's Catholicism permeates all of his films, even those most distant from spiritual issues.
The imitation of Jesus Christ The Jesuits are led to follow in the footsteps of Christ. Does Rodrigues not mistake his face in the water of a river for that of Jesus? Father Garupe, rigid and intransigent, will soon break down and die quickly. Rodrigues, weak and indecisive, will live a more tortuous path. He is followed step by step by Kichijiro (Yosuke Kubozuka), a repeated apostate, who continues to betray him and demand absolution. Prisoner of doubt in this garden of olive trees where tortured peasants moan, Rodrigues will end up trampling on his faith and walking on the image of Christ. There falls silence.
But from then on he listened to the voice of God. While outwardly betraying his faith, did he not remain faithful to the profound truth of Christianity?
Only those who devour secular priests and are always quick to evoke the shadow of the Inquisition will see in this film a Manichean Christian apologia. Repression is also embodied in a kind and tired old man whose smiles and whiny voice do not fit well with his nickname of inquisitor (Issei Ogata). Without ever torturing his prisoner, the clever governor will gradually lead him to retrace the path that Ferreira has already taken before him.
Antagonistic points of view
Scorsese thus conveys the point of view of the Japanese authorities, who are anxious to avoid interference from the European powers. Because the condemnation of Christianity is above all political. This political condemnation is, as always, accompanied by dubious cultural justifications. Japan would be a swamp where Christianity could not take root, the notion of a transcendent God would be incomprehensible to the Japanese, for whom the sun rises every day. We cannot subscribe to this cultural relativism.
Power can break bodies and cut roots, but what about souls?
Kichijiro, the perpetual apostate, will eventually die, faithful to the faith he so despised. Shut away in silence after his apostasy, Rodrigues, apparently a renegade, lives an existence devoid of substance. Japanese on the surface, he nevertheless kept until the end the small crucifix entrusted to him by a Christian peasant. Like Citizen Kane, he will take his secret to the grave.
Martin Scorsese knew how to take advantage of the fragility and limitations of these two young actors (Garfield, Drive) in the face of the performances of notable Japanese actors to make a film that he had been thinking about for twenty years.
Silence. American film by Martin Scorsese with Andrew Garfield, Adam Driver, Liam Neeson, Tanadobu Asano, Issei Ogata, Yosuke Kubozuka (2h41).
Article originally published on February 13, 2017.
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