There is no hard evidence that St. Genesius, the patron saint of actors, actually existed. According to legend, he was an actor in third-century Rome during the reign of the emperor Diocletian, that notorious persecutor of Christians. Actors occupied a lowly place in the Roman social pecking order, their status and civil rights comparable to sex workers and former slaves. But a successful actor could enjoy all of the benefits of celebrity, especially if he had a powerful patron.
Hoping to win Diocletian’s favor, Genesius took part in a play mocking Christianity, in the role of a man receiving baptism. But during the performance, Genesius was struck by God’s grace and began to testify to Christ in earnest, infuriating the emperor. The show ended with Genesius’ beheading.
Whether Genesius’ story is historically true or not is hardly worth debating: Acting has always existed at the intersection between artifice and a higher-than-literal truth. Of course we know that an actor isn’t really Hamlet or Hedda Gabler, but for the duration of his or her performance we believe that person is. Actors talk about “finding the truth” in their characters: a universal, human aspect that they can evoke authentically on stage or on camera. The truth transforms them, and in turn the audience.
That’s what the members of an independent theater troupe at the heart of Denys Arcand’s “Jesus of Montreal” (1989) set out to do when they are invited to modernize an annual Passion play at a Catholic shrine. Their leader, Daniel (Lothaire Bluteau), wants to convey the “real” Jesus, incorporating new archaeological evidence and controversial ideas into his script. He gathers a cast of down-on-their-luck actors, including Constance (Johanne-Marie Tremblay), who has largely abandoned her craft to work at a soup kitchen, Mireille (Catherine Wilkening), a commercial model valued only for her looks, and Martin (Rémy Girard), who dubs dialogue for pornographic videos. Together, they create an immersive, walking performance of the Stations of the Cross.
Audiences are astounded; one woman is so moved that she repeatedly runs to Daniel’s Jesus, begging for healing. The Catholic leadership of the shrine is less enthused, including Father Leclerc (Gilles Pelletier). They object to the play’s radical reinterpretation of the Gospels, particularly the suggestion that Jesus was the illegitimate son of a Roman soldier. Certainly Daniel’s troupe isn’t a pious group, but they don’t intend blasphemy either. They discover truth in Jesus’ story, and want to convey that truth to others.
Indeed, as the play becomes more controversial, the actors’ lives begin to echo moments from the Gospels. The story of Jesus’ temptation in the desert becomes a meeting in a sleek skyscraper office building with a sleazy lawyer. Jesus’ cleansing of the temple becomes an outburst of righteous rage from Daniel after seeing the way Mireille and other actors are objectified at a commercial audition. Father Leclerc, who repeatedly breaks his vow of chastity but will not leave the priesthood because he enjoys his comfort and status too much, stands in for the hypocritical religious leaders of Jesus’ day. Because this is a Passion story, the troupe experiences betrayal, condemnation and death. The film even ends with a surprising, and poignant, sort of resurrection.
Arcand, who wrote and directed the film, grew up Catholic; his mother was a former Carmelite nun, and he attended the now-closed Jesuit Collège Sainte-Marie in Montreal. “At 15, I abandoned religion and discovered sex and drugs,” he told the Washington Post in 1990. “But even though I left the church, the teachings will stay with me until I die.” In “Jesus of Montreal,” he wanted to use the Passion narrative as “a metaphor of an artist and his struggles and temptations,” saying “even atheists like me can appreciate it.” The film had a far less controversial release than Martin Scorsese’s “The Passion of the Christ” did the previous year, despite being arguably the more religiously skeptical of the two.
Unlike St. Genesius, none of the characters in “Jesus of Montreal” are converted to Christianity. But they do discover truth in Christ’s story, truth that leads them to greater artistic and interpersonal freedom. Daniel begins the story deconstructing Jesus’ image, but ends it sharing his words with strangers on a subway platform. The truth transforms him, and his embodiment of that truth transforms his audience.
This Holy Week, we will hear again the story of Christ’s passion, death and resurrection. We may even experience it at a Passion play or a living Stations of the Cross. We know such a reenactment is not “real,” but that doesn’t prevent it from being true. How will that truth transform us? And how will we act it out on the stage of our lives?
“Jesus of Montreal” is streaming on Kanopy.
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