The Da Vinci Code: Decoden and Broken
An ancient secret leads to a murder mystery and a history mystery. Ron Howard is, on the one hand, a great director. But, on the other hand…well, we’ll leave that for later….
An antiquities expert is murdered in order to obtain the secret key to an ancient quest, but, before he dies, with his last breathes he writes a message – a plea for help – that brings symbologist, Robert Langdon (Tom Hanks), and French law enforcement cryptologist, Sophie Neveu (Audrey Tautou), together at the scene of the crime to attempt, in their own ways, to solve the murder mystery and the riddle left by the dying man in The Da Vinci Code. Their journey, which leads them from one ancient site to another and from one set of symbols and puzzles to another, parallels the journey of one of the groups which is in hot pursuit, this group is the odd collection of Catholic Bishops, a monk, and a fictionalized Opus Dei. This suspense thriller keeps you poised with bated breath while the multiple mysteries are one by one unraveled, each step tending to expose more mysteries.
The story of The Da Vinci Code (screenplay by Akiva Goldsman) is, as virtually everyone must know by now, based on Dan Brown’s well plotted novel of the same name. But, what is known yet not often enough said is that Brown’s novel fictionalizes the academic theory (sometimes scorned by peers) of Michael Baigent, Richard Leigh and Henry Lincoln, authors of Holy Blood, Holy Grail. The theory Baigent, Leigh and Lincoln propose in their work is incidentally supported by the independent research conducted by another controversial pair, Christopher Knight and Robert Lomas, who are authors of The Hiram Key and Second Messiah.
The theory says, in brief, that Mary Magdalene (slurred in reputation in 521 A.D.) was in in fact the wedded wife of Jesus of Nazareth and that she was in fact pregnant with His child when she fled Jerusalem after the Crucifixion and Resurrection. The theory goes on to say that her well-wishers bore her by boat across the Mediterranean Sea and landed in safety with her on the southern coast of what is now France. She and her offspring were protected in life, and her remains were also protected and later came to be guarded by the Knights Templar during the Holy Crusades, and again later still by the Priory of Scion. The theory holds that these protectors extended from the Priory of Scion – through such members as Leonardo Da Vinci and Issac Newton – to secret membership of the modern day.
One of the key points of this theory, proffered from two quarters, is that Mary had importance and authority along with the male Apostles; that in light of this, Jesus revealed secret truths to her which He did not reveal to them; and that there developed an antagonistic rivalry between the male Apostles and Mary. The conclusion is that Mary Magdalene is, or ought to be, a central pillar of the religion of the followers of Jesus of Nazareth, called the Christ. Apparently, according to some early Gnostic Gospels which were not canonized by the Nicaean Council, the thorough liberation of women as a second-class race was meant to have come about very early on through Jesus’s teachings
That being said, Ron Howard’s The Da Vinci Code is a movie adaptation of a fictionalization of an academic theory. Bare in mind that a film is a very different creature from a novel. A novel intends for you to conjure up your own images while a film offers ready-made images to you; a movie takes about two hours, a novel may take many dozens of hours. And, as a movie, many aspects of the film are excellent. These aspects, if they stood alone, would earn this film many Academy nominations, if not Awards. But, of course, no parts of a film stand alone. First, though, what was good, even terrific, about The Da Vinci Code, the movie?
One spectacular aspect was the partnership of directing (Howard) and cinematography (Salvatore Totino) and editing (Daniel P. Hanley and Mike Hill). Take for example Tom Hanks’ first entrance. This entrance ought to become one of those immortal film bits that is shown again and again. First we see a fleeting glimpse of Hanks’ back in silhouette. The next view we have of him is his hand holding a notebook. Then, not to spoil the fun, we see accumulating incremental shots until the camera finds his lips.. Eventually we have a close-up shot of Tom Hanks standing behind a lectern. And there are other such examples of this partnership, like the ghosts and flames that occasionally accompany characters, or the shots in the Chateaux Villet. This all adds up to exceptionally well-done cinema.
Another aspect that sets itself apart by its excellence is the production design by Allan Cameron. The replicas, for instance the Cathedral, and the on-location sets are beyond reproach and of exceptionally beautiful quality. One has to admire how artfully the weather was incorporated into the exterior set designs, including the cloud-obscured moon during the plane take-off. Related to this, the costumes, which spanned two thousand years, were, in each instance, excellently done and, like the production design, added ten-fold to the quality of the film. Well done, all.
The stars of the film, Tom Hanks as Robert Langdon, and Audrey Tautou as Sophie Neveu, both gave exceptional performances. Hanks embodied the persona of an academic with ease, except for the one little quirk of lowering his voice. One wonders why he chose to do that as it periodically draws attention away from the story. The character, Langdon was often confused, sometimes devious, sometimes plunged deep in intellectual thought, and Hanks handled each of these transitions, each of the situations – multifaceted as they were – with complete believability and thorough skill. This is another of his performances which ought to be recognized by the academy. Tautou, beautiful and talented, gave a performance that was a perfect match to Hanks’. Every moment was credible, every nuance as she transitioned from intent law enforcement officer to skeptic to hero, and as she refused to concede to demands, rang true.
Still another aspect that added to the greatness of the film was the supporting cast. The professor, Sir Leigh Teabing, and his valet, the cardinals and bishops in the Secret Council, Captain Fache, all these roles were flawlessly performed. For example, Captain Fache’s revelation of his motives and his burden – a difficult confession for a top law enforcement captain – are poignant and sincere. The role of Bishop Aringarosa, played by Alfred Molina, is done a little less well; there are moments when one is reminded of a similar role he played in Luther, and one dislikes being pulled from the present movie because of a sudden unmistakable flavor of the other. I’ll reserve the role and performance of Paul Bettany for Part II of this review.
The story and dialog being, in the main, extremely well written, gave Hanks and Tautou superior material to work with. A nice touch establishing parallels between the lives of three of the most significant characters was to give each of them flashbacks to major personal horrors. The theme underlying the mysteries (and the mistakes discussed in Part II) of The Da Vinci Code is a double one of the folly of intentional human distortion of truths and innocent lives and of the quest to identify the “route to the renewal of faith.”
Like I said, there were many excellent aspects to this film, and if they stood alone they would put the director, cast, and production crew of The Da Vinci Code as top runners on the Academy Awards nomination roles – it may still garner top-place nominations. For the above reasons, few people will want to miss seeing this movie, but be forewarned. All is not perfect, and the excellence does not stand alone.
Now – what was wrong with The Da Vinci Code?
Part II
Ron Howard is a great director; he has given us some much beloved cinema experiences. But Howard seems to have suddenly developed, beginning with Cinderella Man, a strange new blood lust. I scoured available sources to see if there has recently been some great tragedy in his life, some great loss or disillusionment which might explain this bizarre trend, but I found no such events. All I found was a philosophy, an approach to creative excellence. It is well to remember that philosophies can betray us when there are incongruities, inconsistencies or logical fallacies embedded within. Such a philosophy can, when taken to its fullest extension, produce untenable positions.
Ron Howard has given a number of interviews within recent years, some related to his 2002 nomination for the Director’s Guild of America award for outstanding directorial achievement. One of these recent interview is posted on the Academy of Achievement online site: http://www.achievement.org).
In keeping with what Russell Crowe (2002 Academy Awards ceremony) identified as Ron Howard’s “honor as a man,” Ron Howard believes the right attitude toward his talents and successes lies in “not taking it all for granted” but rather in “earning my way, earning my keep.” He says, “I never want to coast on past performances.” And, as he says, he believes it is important “to prepare yourself so that you believe you are actually bringing something” to the process of film making, and that it is also “important not to fall into really strict patterns.” He also says, “Slowly but surely, I’ve tried to broaden the range and scope of what I could do as a director.”
Beginning with Cinderella Man and now in The Da Vinci Code, it seems we are seeing Howard’s philosophy pushed to its newest extension. It seems that one of the “really strict patterns” Howard is currently seeking to “broaden” is that of the illusionary nature of film: he is broadening illusion into palpable reality. The new pattern, “range” and scope that Howard has achieved raises the distinct possibility of there being incongruities, inconsistencies and logical fallacies in Howard’s philosophy. It seems that this philosophy allows Howard to side step questions relating to the psychological impact of the images and events in his films.
Specifically, what? Specifically, in The Da Vinci Code (but previously in Cinderella Man) what appears to be – but probably isn’t – a blood lust dictates close ups of scenes of human mutilation; what makes it worse in The Da Vinci Code is that the mutilation is self-imposed. It may be a good career decision for Mr. Howard to take his films out of “really strict patterns” and into this new broadening of “range and scope” and to be, as he said of Apollo 13, “very, very truthful” and to show “what humans are capable of” (of course, with Apollo 13, it was to “celebrate” human capability), but I’m sorry to say it is a philosophical and psychological mistake.
One of my reasons for saying so is that viewing powerful images, such as Mr. Howard’s are, creates a sort of lust in its own, a participation lust, an imitation lust. Those psychiatrists in the ’50s were so wrong when they convinced the world that watching violent and unsettling images does not effect behavior (look at what this society has become since that misbegotten verdict). Violent and unsettling images do affect behavior because they affect psychology. This is particularly so when the directing, lighting and cinematography are handled by those who are among the greatest in their fields. Yes, mine is a very subjective point of view, but so is the camera’s point of view while Silas, played by Paul Bettany, is flagellating himself.
As to Paul Bettany, his acting is beyond question superior, he proved as much in Master and Commander. And it is true, as Crowe also said, that great directors allow “actors to be adventurous, take risks, and explore.” Yet there comes a point when one director’s broadening of range and scope and one actor’s adventures, risks and explorations become an audience’s unholy horror in images. Mr. Bettany would do well to save his brilliant talents and profound sensitivities for pouring out in better roles, roles that enhance the viewer’s experience as well as his own.
Despite all the excellent aspects of this, in some measure, great film, Howard does show some directorial weaknesses. (I suspect that this is because the images related to this seeming blood lust scrambled his mind – sort of like reading Crime and Punishment – and Howard just wasn’t focusing clearly.) These were both minor weaknesses, like Molina’s reprisal of his role in Luther, and major ones, like the worst scenes involving Paul Bettany. (You know, Fred Astaire said that he couldn’t do the drunk-dance scene in Holiday Inn without being truly drunk. I only hope Bettany wasn’t of this same mind-set.)
In the final analysis, all things taken together, this film is judged by its own words, as spoken by Sophie Nevue (Tautou): “We are who we protect, I think; who we stand up for.” In The Da Vinci Code, Ron Howard, Akiva Goldsman, and Paul Bettany stood up only for their own career expansions, and those choices backfired as it is hard for an audience to accept and appreciate such cavalier attitude from respected, honored and beloved directors, writers and actors. It seems that what is missing from Howard’s philosophy is the impact of the images of cinema on the audience. Because all parts of a film stand together, and certain parts of this film stand out adversely as major directorial mistakes, I can’t give this film the five star rating I would like to give it. Because of the mistakes, I can’t give more than a 2-1/2 Star rating. Maybe rent it when it comes out on DVD.
