Silence

In the 17^th century, young Portuguese Jesuit priests Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield) and Garupe (Adam Driver) travel to Japan in search of their fellow priest and mentor Cristovao Ferreira (Liam Neeson), who is rumored to have apostatized. Guided by disgraced fisherman Kichichiro (Yosuke Kobuzaka), the priests come across a Christian community that is being persecuted by the Tokugawa shogunate and its inquisitor, Inoue (Issey Ogata). Though Rodrigues arrives hopeful and determined, watching the converts’ suffering repeatedly tests his faith.

Martin Scorsese’s adaptation of Shusaku Endo’s novel is not a film with mass appeal: it’s long (2 hours and 40 minutes), talky, and full of torture. In lesser hands, that would make it unbearable. But Silence is a passion project for Scorsese, and the effort shows. It’s still a somewhat divisive film albeit a rewarding one for those who have the patience and the stomach for it.

Working in Silence’s favor are lush visuals, well-written characters, and a complex treatment of theme. The film makes the most of its setting, juxtaposing the natural beauty of Japan with the harsh realities of feudal village life. Jay Cocks’s script allows for a good deal of character ambiguity, and the cast is largely successful in playing that out. Kichichiro repeatedly renounces his Christian faith when threatened yet seeks Rodrigues’s forgiveness every time. Through Kobuzaka’s anguish, we see him as a sympathetic figure rather than a treacherous weasel. As Rodrigues, Garfield is sort of an anti-Thomas More. His attempts to remain resolute invite horrible consequences, and the film toys with the idea that he is motivated by a desire for the glory of martyrdom rather than mere benevolence. Ogata plays Inoue as genial rather than sadistic even though the punishments that he inflicts become crueler and crueler. The film works to raise questions about the cost of belief, but it wisely avoids providing obvious and ham-handed answers.

As with many longer films, Silence drags at times, and the score is too understated to impart much tension. A bigger distraction, however, is the film’s treatment of language. English stands in for Portuguese here, a pragmatic choice that nevertheless invites several problems. At one point, a character remarks about the confusion between “son” and “sun,” something that would not exist in Portuguese. Garfield and Driver begin with unconvincing Portuguese accents that are not consistent throughout the film while Neeson doesn’t even bother. Meanwhile, Ogata’s English evokes racist stereotypes and would not sound out of place in a World War II-era propaganda reel. Given how much attention was paid to other elements of the film’s production, it is puzzling to see communication get short shrift.

Despite his deep personal commitment to it (the film was in development for years as the director took other projects solely to secure financing), Silence is not among Scorsese’s best works. It is, however, still thought-provoking and well-crafted in its own right.

8/10