The Passion of the Christ is back in cinemas. Should Christians still watch it?

It is easy to forget the impact that The Passion of the Christ had when it was first released in 2004. It was a film that was truly “viral” before that term had the cultural meaning it does today.

In an era before podcasts, YouTube, Facebook or Twitter, Mel Gibson’s ultraviolent, foreign-language horror movie depicting the final hours of Jesus’ life became a word-of-mouth sensation, becoming the highest-grossing R-rated (18) film at the American box office, as well as the most successful independent film of all time.

Churches booked out entire cinemas to show this visceral depiction of Christ’s torture and execution to their congregations - and even their youth groups. No film depicting biblical stories before or since has come remotely close to the cultural impact that The Passion of the Christ had at that time.

To see this as a definitive depiction of Jesus’ death or treat it as authentic history means overlooking a few significant flaws

This weekend, you’ll have the chance to watch it on the big screen again. Gibson’s film is being re-released in a 4K restoration, presumably to drum up excitement for next year’s sequel - The Resurrection of the Christ: Part one - which reputedly is about Jesus battling demons in hell.

So, now that the hype has died down and both cinema and Church have moved on, is it actually a good film? Is it’s depiction of Jesus and scripture accurate? Can you look past it’s more controversial elements? I watched it again to reassess one of the most surprising box office hits of all time.

Beauty and power

Many aspects of the film retain their power. Mel Gibson, a controversial figure, is an undeniably accomplished director. The decision to have the dialogue in Aramaic and Latin is a sharp one, avoiding dodgy accents from an international cast and immediately making it feel more immersive.

It is also, at times, a beautifully shot film. The aim was to recreate religious artwork by artists such as Caravaggio and, at times, Gibson pulls that off. Thoughtful framing and credible production design combine to create a potent balance of historical and spiritual, leaning on iconography as much as archaeology.

The scenes of torture and violence - which make up the vast majority of the film - are appropriately grim. This is a film made before the era when audiences would be looking at a second screen; it is impossible to have on in the background while you scroll on your phone. As the film follows Jesus through agonisingly long sequences, such as the infamous whipping scene, it demands the full attention of the audience.

The film critic in me has nits to pick - inappropriate use of slow-mo and some twee musical choices at key moments felt like style over substance. But on a purely technical level, this is a remarkable feat of filmmaking that confronts the viewer with the extent of Jesus’ suffering. It forces you to reconsider verses such as “by his stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5) so that it is no longer an abstract sentiment but a physical, embodied image of how Jesus won our healing.

But The Passion of the Christ has a reputation beyond being an accomplished piece of cinema. It took on spiritual significance. Even the then-Pope reportedly saw it and said: “It is as it was.” It’s a lofty claim, but the film doesn’t really withstand that level of pressure.

To see this as a definitive depiction of Jesus’ death, to treat it as Gospel truth or authentic history, means overlooking a few significant flaws in Gibson’s storytelling approach.

Truth and art

While scripture is the primary influence, concepts from later Catholic tradition add extrabiblical content. Crows gouge out eyes, women wipe Jesus’s face on the road to Golgotha and Mary comforts her son on his walk. There’s a preoccupation with the devil and demons, too, that feels at odds with the gritty realism of the whipping and crucifixion scenes.

None of these are inherently wrong, but these choices signal that Gibson is not a neutral observer aiming for accuracy - he’s approaching it with a theological angle influenced by more than just scripture.

Gibson claimed that a lot of the film was influenced by the visions of Anne Catherine Emmerich, a controversial religious figure known, among other things, for her virulent antisemitism. And since the film was first released, Jewish communities have said the film stokes antisemitic sentiment with cartoonish depictions of the Sanhedrin and Jewish soldiers in ways that feed into the “Christ killer” trope.

This is a remarkable feat of filmmaking that confronts the viewer with the extent of Jesus’ suffering

At a time when antisemitism is on the rise again, these criticisms should be taken seriously. While it is impossible to tell the story of the crucifixion without the Sanhedrin, every shot in a film is a conscious choice. Shadowy lighting, leering faces and (unsubtitled) lines of dialogue about blood on the hands of Jews are decisions made by a director who, two years later, went on a drunken, antisemitic tirade against a Jewish police officer.

The Passion story, told throughout the world for centuries, can be a force for beautiful, gospel truth. But it is undeniable that, at times - such as in Oberammergau in the early 20th century – it has also been used to stoke hatred against Jewish people. Gibson’s film could be a part of this long and uncomfortable legacy.

This doesn’t mean Christians shouldn’t watch The Passion of the Christ. For many, it has recontextualised the suffering of Jesus in a way that has led to greater devotion. But go in clear eyed: this is not exactly “as it was”, to misquote the Pope.

Instead, it is a singular vision of Jesus’ final hours directed by a talented but deeply flawed individual drawing from a wide range of sources. It goes without saying that it is not on a par with scripture; it is a human creation, flaws and all.

The Passion of the Christ is in UK cinemas from 10-17 September