Revisiting 'Jesus of Montreal'

A look back at Denys Arcand's pseudo Passion story.

Earlier this week, I reposted an article I wrote a while back about Martin Scorsese’s The Last Temptation of Christ and the important role that it and other controversial works have had in maturing my faith.  

Revisiting that piece during Holy Week made me think of other religious-adjacent works that have provoked me, and my mind quickly went to Denys Arcand’s 1989 film Jesus of Montreal. Released just one year after Scorsese’s film, Arcand’s indie debuted to great notices – and it’s been regularly noticed as one of the top ten Canadian films by the Toronto International Film Festival – but was never much of a huge hit outside of Canada (although it did receive recognition from the BAFTAs and at Cannes, among other awards bodies). 

It’s fairly hard to track down. I first saw it in 2008 or 2009, back when Netflix was still primarily a DVD rental service. A year or two ago, I tried to watch it on streaming but the only readily available copy was a pretty crummy transfer on YouTube. Browsing Amazon recently, I found that it was available on Fandor, which had a free 7-day trial. 

It’s a shame that it’s so difficult to watch, because Arcand’s film is one of the more interesting Jesus movies I’ve seen, even though I hesitate to label it as one. It’s actually more of a scrappy “let’s put on a show” story constructed on the bones of a Passion play, more interested in how Jesus’ principles and attitude might inform behavior or context than in proselytizing.

Daniel (Lothaire Bluteau) is a vagabond actor given the opportunity to play Jesus and revitalize a Passion play at a Catholic shrine in Montreal. The diocese priest (Gilles Pelletier) wrote the play 40 years earlier and it’s become a bit stagnant; Daniel is given the freedom to reimagine the event how he sees fit; the father even points Daniel to some newer archeological texts on the life of Christ, although he suggests that while Daniel is free to refer to him in his play, the priest would lose his job if he spoke them from the pulpit. 

Daniel recruits a team of actors, gathering individuals who might seem ill-fitted for such a sacred project. He nabs a surface-obsessed actress best-known for her work in perfume commercials, and a voiceover artist working in the adult film industry. Another actor joins simply to be given a chance to incorporate Hamlet into the Christ story. Daniel lives with one of the actors, an older single mother who’s having an affair with the priest. They develop a popular Passion play that moves visitors and challenges their preconceptions of Christ – often including information about Jesus’ family life and background that are contrary to orthodox belief, such as suggesting that Jesus’ father was a Roman soldier. As you might imagine, this doesn’t sit well with the diocese leadership, who first recommend Daniel change the script before threatening to shut it down. 

Many characters and plot points have parallels to the Gospel story, and those who are familiar with the person and teachings of Jesus will be able to find them. They’re right there at the beginning, when an actor is approached by agents only to point them toward Daniel as the better actor – and in case you weren’t paying attention to this John the Baptist stand-in, just a few moments earlier the agent said she “wanted his head” for her perfume ad. 

Daniel is the film’s Jesus stand-in; quiet and kind, appearing out of nowhere, but suspected of traveling the world before appearing on the scene in Montreal, a parallel to traditions that suggest Jesus traveled to India and other locations before starting his ministry. With his long hair and flowing clothes, Bluteau often looks like he’s on his way to appear in an actual Passion play. He recruits actors who wouldn’t normally be the first choices for a church drama, and treats them with dignity and kindness. Like Jesus, his approach ruffles the feathers of traditionalists, in this case, the Catholic Church. 

There are other modernized elements of the Christ story, such as the lawyer who takes Daniel to a high rise overlooking the city and promises that if he just trusts him, he will be powerful and famous, evocative of Christ’s temptation in the wilderness. There’s a moment where Daniel, enraged at the way a casting director exploits his friend during an audition for a beer commercial, turns over tables and brandishes an extension cord, driving out the people who’ve turned his craft into a hustle. There’s betrayal by a friend, and a death sequence that uses the iconography of the crucifixion before delivering a modern-day take on the resurrection. 

These parallels are all very clear, but never feel forced or inorganic. I think that’s because Arcand isn’t really interested in retelling the Jesus story in the traditional sense. This isn’t allegory for the sake of getting us to think more about theological concepts or the historical Christ but rather uses the story to explore social issues. Granted, I was 10 years old and living in a completely different country when this film was made. But it’s hard not to see that Arcand is interested in real-life concerns facing his city and his profession. There’s sharp satire in scenes regarding advertising executives – portrayed as vapid and shallow – and celebrity news (a shot on a TV anchor that holds much too long is one of the film’s funniest moments), and Daniel’s empathy and compassion are held up in contrast with an industry that exploits and dehumanizes. And it’s no coincidence that Daniel suffers a death via the state; instead of execution by the Romans, it’s languishing too long in an overcrowded hospital.  

Arcand seems interested not only in the humanity and compassion of Christ, but in the way he challenged traditionalists, forcing them to confront a new view of the world. Daniel’s modernization of the Passion play is seen as heretical by the diocese, the same way that Christ’s words about the Sabbath and loving your enemies were seen as blasphemous by the Pharisees. But he also calls out the hypocrisy of a city that cannot help its sick and creatives who’ve lost sight of humanity. It never tries to force a one-to-one comparison with Christ, but instead is fascinated with how his teachings might confront our modern institutions. 

That’s why I don’t mind if the Passion play Daniel and his troupe puts on doesn’t align with my beliefs (I’d probably side with the people in authority that their claims are unorthodox at best, heretical at worst); Arcand’s not interested in arguing these points so much as setting up a conversation about confronting tradition. Jesus of Montreal doesn’t have much interest in exploring the biblical record or theological musings; it is very interested, instead, in what Christ’s teachings might look like if they were lived out today, and whether a person could survive long when preaching compassion, love and dignity against the powerful and greedy. And at that, it’s fascinating. 

But what also keeps Jesus of Montreal from being just a rote allegory or a theological experiment is that the film also works as an engaging, sweet and funny hangout movie. The ensemble has strong chemistry and a playful vibe, and the film will often just sit back and observe them hanging out, working or goofing. Whether I agree with the content of their Passion play or not, Arcand creates a visually striking and engaging approach to staging it, as crowds traverse a mountainous path and the actors explain the story before dramatizing the stations of the cross. I enjoyed the silly digressions, particularly in a scene where the actors playfully rebel against the priest’s request to restage the story. There are also some really solid supporting performances, particularly Pelletier as Fr. Leclerc, the priest who’s lost his faith and desires more but can’t give up the trappings and comfort of his career. Catherine Wilkening is also really good as Mireille, the perfume commercial actress who finds new meaning and self-worth through her friendship with Daniel and the rest of the troupe. 

As I said earlier this week, I think some of the best Jesus movies are the ones made by atheists. They’re the ones not interested in a typical restaging of the Christ story but in examining Jesus’ words and teaching. Jesus of Montreal is a fascinating consideration of what Christ might say to today’s culture and institutions and what the response might be. But it’s also just a really good film about people enjoying life together…and, in its way, isn’t that also part of the Christ story?