Falconetti as Joan of Arc (photo at the site of The Film Journal, click to link to the page)
Last week in my philosophy and film course we watched La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc (The Passion of Joan of Arc), the French silent movie produced in 1928 by Carl Theodor Dreyer. Many people think the performance by Rennée Jeanne Falconetti, playing Joan, is the finest ever in the whole of cinema, and I am inclined to agree. Based on the actual transcripts of Joan’s trial, it is absolutely riveting and heart rending as Joan is bullied by the Church authorities and finally sent to the stake. We used the soundtrack of the 1994 composition Voices of Light by Richard Einhorn. The class all agreed that the music was truly worthy of its subject.
Why do I choose this film, and especially why is this my choice of silent film? I have shown other silent films in previous years, including Birth of a Nation. I do so partly – mainly – because I think it is such a great movie and I want my students to see it. Would they do so otherwise? Probably not, and I see education in part as introducing young people to the great intellectual and artistic achievements of the past.
But I also chose this film because it opens the way to the really interesting philosophical topic about understanding the past. (As you will gather from this piece and my last piece, I am intensely interested in issues to do with the philosophy of history. I guess this is what you would expect from someone whose own work straddles history and philosophy.) In particular, I am interested in how one interprets past events from the present, and especially from the present given our interests (rather than just the interests of people back at the time of the events.)
Joan (1412-1431) was a leader of the French against the English in the Hundred Years War. A peasant girl, she heard voices telling her that it was her destiny to lead the French forces to victory, she persuaded the authorities to let her try, and she did and succeeded in battle. Then she was caught, sold to the English, who tried her and killed her. Her importance was long recognized, she was made a saint in 1920, and she is a major cultural icon in France. The Free French in the Second World War had the Cross of Lorraine on their flag, with its reference back to Joan who used it in her standard. As it happens, the Vichy government also used Joan, suggesting that now as then the English were the foe and to be resisted.
My question is about how we should interpret Joan. Was she just a nut case, who heard voices, most probably because she was sick – perhaps a schizophrenic? (There is much debate about possible physical reasons for the visions.) And is she being used today because she is – well quite frankly – useful? The Free French needed a heroine to promote their cause. Or does it make sense in some way to say that she was touched and informed by God and that her mission was thus sanctified? And how do we decide between these two options and do we in fact need to decide?
The topic always leads to a good discussion – remember that most of my students from this part of the world are themselves religious (although most are not Catholic) – and this year was no exception. But I realize now that there is much more and we shall be returning to this issue. The thing about great art is that it speaks to new generations and speaks to topics that may not have previously been addressed or seemed secondary. Dreyer’s great film is no exception.
Most obviously it speaks to the issue of people in authority, with power and interests, imposing their will on others – indifferent to the needs of others, even though the authorities claim to be speaking or acting on their behalf. The Church in 15th-century France claimed to be speaking for God. And what happened? A bunch of old men bullied and threatened and finally killed a young girl because she did not fit their needs. Or rather, they killed her because her death did fit their needs – they could exhibit their power to and over the general populace. They could show how they dealt with people who claimed independent authority from God.
There are truly powerful analogies here with the Catholic Church today. And even more so to the appalling revelations coming out of Penn State. Powerful people – powerful men – who are supposed to have the good of others at heart, simply brush aside the needs and care and interests of people, of the vulnerable young, for their own ends. There is deep corruption in the hearts of the men who tried and executed Joan. There is deep corruption in the hearts of the men who abuse children. There is deep corruption in the hearts of the men who cover up this abuse for the ends of their institutions and to maintain the power they have in such institutions.
I would like to see everyone in power in the Catholic Church and everyone at Penn State – especially the involved administrators and those students who rioted against the firing of the coach – to watch The Passion of Joan of Arc. Perhaps it might show them the evil in which they are bathed.
