The Last Temptation of Netflix, Part 2

EDITOR’S NOTE: Part 1 of this ugly diatribe against Scorsese’s The Last Temptation of Christ can be found here.

So anyway, by this point the Sam Adams was flowing pretty freely and I was checking in and out for cigarette breaks, so my coverage gets a little spotty. Scorcese has Jesus go back out into the desert or something, and come back growling that now he’s “the Son of the God of the Axe,” which would have sounded intimidating if it wasn’t custom-made to be prefixed with “Godzilla Versus”.

So then Jesus hits the temple with his mob of angry goons to kick some ass, but unlike in the Bible, in Scorsese’s movie it’s not filled with money-lenders, but money-exchangers. And just before Jesus Hulks Out we’re introduced to a helpful one-off character I believe was named Rabbi Exposition, who explained that it was against Jewish law to use Roman coinage in the temple, because Roman coins had pictures of Roman gods, and it was illegal to allow graven images of false gods into the temple. In short: in Scorsese’s Jesus story, Jews couldn’t worship unless they had a pile of the right money… thus simultaneously setting back the cause of Judaism at least forty years and plastering a Joker-style grin across the face of Mel Gibson, who then began writing his own little Jesus movie. Probably with one hand.

So then Jesus whips up his crew to grab some weapons and take on the occupying Roman garrison (He may or may not have shouted “Wolverines!”; I was going for a beer around this time). And they get the drop on the Romans and they’re ready to attack… but they pause and tell Jesus that they can’t riot until he gives the order… because we all know that angry mobs respect nothing more than the iron-clad authority implicit in a top-down hierarchy.

Jesus wimps out and the Romans start rounding people up, somehow missing the guy who was right in front of them. Jesus and his disciples escape, and again, unlike in all four gospels of the New Testament, in Scorsese’s flick, Jesus asks Judas to go to the Romans and bring them back to pick him up and crucify him, thus turning a tragic tale of betrayal and sacrifice into the tale of Suicide By Cop so complicated it makes Se7en look like a third-grader’s Johnny Fuckerfaster joke.

And now it’s time for the Last Supper, except Scorsese stages it as all the disciples eating on the ground in a big square, thus allowing Marty to implicit call Leonardo da Vinci a dissembling hack… although if you pause the movie and look at how everyone is seated, where things are placed and how background objects are arranged, a secret message becomes impossible to ignore! That message is: you are drunk as a lord and bored shitless by this fucking movie.

Then Jesus meets David Bowie, who rather than singing says some stuff about nailing Jesus up, collects his paycheck and and goes on to find himself cursed as the man who met Jesus and displayed the historically poor judgment to then record and release Tin Machine.

And then Jesus finally gets nailed to a cross (Yup, turns out the Romans were able to puzzle out the arcane, complicated technology without Jesus’s help), and after a few minutes, his guardian angel shows up and tells him that he shouldn’t die! He should look at all the wonderful things that happen if he gives up his attempt at Blue Suicide! Why, if Jesus lives, all the people of Jerusalem will arrive and make donations to save his building and loan! So Jesus decides not to jump off the bridge, goes home and  – whoops! Wrong movie! Kinda.

Anyway, Jesus goes home to live as a man, finds Mary Magdalene, takes her to bed and finally experiences the joy that all men eventually know: pubic crab lice. After all, we watched the love of his life get plowed by, like twenty guys in one day earlier in the movie, and the only “Trojan” Jesus knows about is the Horse… assuming it’s not illegal to know about that because of graven images or some other bullshit.

Jesus lives for many years, fathering many children despite the fact that a year after fucking Mary Magdalene he would have lost his junk to tertiary syphilis. And eventually he meets a man preaching about the divine nature of Jesus. Jesus confronts the preacher, angrily informing him that he had been living as a simple man for years. The preacher listens patiently and then tells Jesus, “When the legend becomes fact? Print the legend.” Then John Wayne tells Jesus to represent Jerusalem in its bid to become a state, and – whoops! Wrong movie! Kinda.

Then Scorcese cuts to Jesus on his deathbed, where he finds out – surprise! – his life as a man was made possible by Satan! And if he dies as a man, all his work will come to nothing! And Jesus has to choose between dying as a man or asking Dad to bail him out and have him die on the cross… which seems noble except that it’s a zero-sum game: either die that day in agony on the cross, or die that day in agony from the bursting pustules in his groin.

So Jesus gets a mulligan from God and wakes up back on the cross, where he screams, “It is accomplished!” and then dies. And where a regular movie would then cut to black, Scorsese instead chooses to ape the elements of a film running out: he shows leader colors and film sprocket holes slipping the gears… to remind you that you were watching a movie. Scorsese’s movie. And he reminds you of this fact right after Jesus Christ himself told you that “It is accomplished!”

What the hell, Marty? What were you trying to say there? I’ve got a couple of guesses, and the most charitable is that you’re comparing the controversy you had to put up with over this flick with the suffering of Christ on the cross, which would be an apt analogy if it weren’t unmitigated bullshit.

You made a movie with a scene where Jesus bones a skanky hooker, Marty! What did you think was gonna happen? Did you think Jerry Falwell was gonna give you hugs and kisses? Don’t be dense, Scorsese, think: the movie came out during Reagan’s America, the religious right was on the rise, and you didn’t tithe Jerry a percentage of the gross! Course, if you had kicked Jerry a point or two, you’d be Doctor Martin Scorsese courtesy of Liberty University, and I wouldn’t have needed Netflix and 21st Century technology to watch your movie because it would have been playing on the 700 Club.

My other guess is that you thought that the simple act of making the movie was on par with Jesus dying on the cross. Which, while being the obviously more arrogant meaning, is arguably the more accurate. After all, when it’s all said and done, I think we’ve proved that your movie rolled over and died with at least as many holes in it as Jesus. And after it died, you were able to redeem yourself for the good of all mankind… but don’t get too full of yourself in the comparison, Marty. You can say what you want about Catholicism, but no matter what, at least Jesus never made New York, New York.

Of course, if we follow that comparison, if the movie is Jesus, then what’s Satan? What offers the ability to avoid suffering at the hands of our fellow man, to take the easy path, only to eventually betray us and offer us long term suffering? Hmmm.

Get thee behind me, Streaming Netflix! You are an offense to me for you are not mindful of things film, but of the… what? You’ve got all six seasons of Miami Vice? And Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson? All hail our half-programmed and partially-stocked dark lord!

[tags]Martin Scorsese, Last Temptation of Christ, Netflix, dark humor, satire[/tags]