Life of Sept. 11 hero was driven by love: whether serving AIDS patients or firefighters, Franciscan brought God's compassion in the shape of his own unique, flawed humanity. - Father Mychal Judge: an Authentic American Hero by Michael Ford - book review

National Catholic Reporter, Oct 4, 2002 by Jack Wintz

As a media literacy education specialist, I am always focused on issues that concern critical thinking, representations of power and authority, race, age, gender, social status and religion. I don't think Theresa Sanders set out to write a book from the media literacy perspective, but it is to her credit that she did do this and even went a step further. She placed questioning cinematic representations, official interpretations of them, and how audiences negotiate meanings about these kinds of movies smack dab in the context of the faith community. Principles of Catholic social teaching, especially the dignity of the human person, as well as liberation theology, are the natural basis for her study. And she has done all this with clarity, relevance, respect and warmth.

Some of the features of the book are worth noting: It has an index, is well footnoted and includes a list of additional movies about saints not mentioned in the book. It is unfortunate that a complete list of all the films and videos in the book is not included, however. Celluloid Saints has a flowing, readable style, an artistic cover, and the size and layout make you want to read it. I did. From cover to cover, and with great relish. I recommend it to anyone who loves the idea of "stumbling onto divinity" by way of the movies.

Throughout Celluloid Saints, the author primarily looks at how Catholic sanctity, canonized or not, has been and is represented in cinema. It's easy, she says, to portray many aspects of lived holiness, though often (as in the case of the life of St. Vincent de Paul in "Monsieur Vincent") facts are changed and nuances created that truly diminish the story of the person because the stories say what they are expected to say. The implication is that filmmakers don't try hard enough, or have not yet found the story-telling key (as so many others before them) that will convey the spirituality of the saint, in addition to the "facts." Though I immediately thought of Neil Jordan's 1999 version of the Graham Greene novel, "End of the Affair," that accomplishes what Sanders proposes (a film she does not mention, the only serious lack in an otherwise excellent tome), the one question Sanders does not seem to answer--though she poses the question well enough--is: How can filmmakers incarnate an image and sound the desire for God in truly meaningful ways for our own times?

Thus, Theresa Sanders offers a challenge to erstwhile Christian and mainstream filmmakers as well, because her book could be considered a guide and obligatory reading for all of them before they are allowed to touch a script about holiness, Catholic or otherwise. Indeed, a whole other book could be dedicated to the universality of holiness, and I hope Theresa Sanders will write it.

Alas, it will not be St. Agatha's breasts that will be meaningful for the audience today and tomorrow, as juicy a tale as their loss may be. Rather, how well we can tell stories about the desire for God, and God's desire for us, is the stuff of which great movies--and holiness--are made.