Barrabás

In one of the first scenes Barabbas steps out of his dark prison cell to find the peculiar glinting figure of the man who's going to take his place on the cross and rubbing his eyes says he's not used to the light.

So here we have both facets that make this interesting. It is, more so than Ben Hur and perhaps even Spartacus, less grand in the cinematic brushstroke but more troubled and honestly so about the spiritual picture it paints, more human.

It starts with what we know as a spiritual narrative, Pilates' trial of Jesus, but approaches it in the historic light. It follows only the last legs of that narrative from the crucifixion on but does so through Barabbas' questioning eyes. We assume divinity because it's that story but the body could have been stolen, the eclipse natural; it all might just be a story about god.

The spiritual question that looms is why doesn't god make himself plain? If this is a spiritual narrative as the newly devout insist throughout, why is it so hard to discern its truth?

Barabbas finds it hard to believe so returns to his banditry which opens up a cycle of sinking deeper into a life of meaningless toil and punishment, seen most clearly in the sulphur mines where each subsequent year the slaves are lowered to a deeper level as their eyes become accustomed to the dark, again eyes tied to light.

It isn't so just for him of course, Christians suffer next to him so what difference does it make, faith or god?

There's a scene where a Christian lectures gladiators that their pagan gods are fictions that will be sure to amuse modern viewers. But this was the powerful reality of early Christianity, the only time it truly mattered. Christians could point to a specific time and place where god appeared as part of history, I can only imagine the invigorating urgency. It had all become clear, linear. They did joyfully expect to see his return within their lifetime.

There is something powerful to be gleaned here; life isn't any better for the believers than Barabbas, the whole difference has nothing to do with the material facts, it's all about the light in which you choose to see. The tragic irony is that when Barabbas chooses to believe it is only out of guilt, a madness that is the fire he sets to things (this is during Nero's fire) that is his belief that the anticipated return would be fiery like this.

So forget that it's a religious spectacle we watch during Lent and carries that form, this is more erudite than usual and deserves to be seen next to Stromboli about the difficulties of faith.