Runtime: 1 hour, 53 minutes
Rating: R
Director: Paul Schrader
Quick Impressions:
“Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”
If you can dutifully repeat that quotation from 1 Samuel, then please see my mother for your prize. It’s been over a decade since she last taught Sunday School, but I’m sure she’s got a stash of stickers and candy somewhere. My kids are always sneaking around in her room and returning with Fun Size M&Ms, so trust me, she’s good for that prize.
We went to see Paul Schrader’s First Reformed for Ethan Hawke (who always does interesting work) and Amanda Seyfried (who deserves more parts like this) and because we’re not yachting enthusiasts. (Seriously, the trailer for that Shailene Woodley movie has played before every single film this year. I like Shailene Woodley, but I feel like I’ve already seen the movie. Twice.)
At any rate, First Reformed was a good choice. Hawke and Seyfried did not disappoint us. Both actors give compelling performances, and Hawke’s star turn is particularly powerful, possibly career best. But the secret star of First Reformed is Alexander Dynan’s cinematography. I’m completely unfamiliar with Dynan’s previous work, but what he does here is incredible.
The images in this film say so much. Of course, I’m sure writer/director Schrader deserves some credit there, too. The opening establishing shot of First Reformed Lutheran Church makes such an impression. The camera reveals the church to us for such a long time. We begin to expect action. Ordinarily, when a movie shows us the front door of a building for so long, someone eventually comes bursting through. We wait for something to happen.
But nothing does. It starts to feel like a really teased out game of “this is the church…this is the steeple…” designed to reward anticipation with anticlimax (which potentially foreshadows the film’s ending).
After the movie, my husband noted, “This will sound weird, but there seemed to be such a focus on environment. I mean the literal, immediate environment the people inhabited.” (His use of the word “environment” suggested a link to one of the story’s overt concerns.)
At the same time, I incorrectly anticipated where he was going with that and got really excited. From my point of view, there seemed to be such a focus on externals, on facades. We then each came up with tons of visual and narrative examples of how someone had to look on the inside to see what was really going on. (There are like a million instances of this occurring in First Reformed, so if you don’t find any, you should probably feel inadequate and concerned which will help you relate to the fitful mood of most of the central characters.)
One of the best things about the cinematography is that it feels smarter than you, like it’s slowly setting up a riddle that you feel you ought to know the answer to but haven’t quite formulated, let alone solved.
The Good:
Such fascinating facades in this film! We always seem to be looking at a setting full of character or right into a face that could be carved from stone. Ethan Hawke has this phenomenal crease in his brow. The way it deepens is almost hypnotic. The mystery of the crease haunted me for much of the film. How is it achieved? Great acting, poor aging, fantastic makeup, clever lighting, unlikely CGI? Like the outside of the church building, Hawke’s brow crease could be a character in its own right.
As you might expect from a film that earnestly explores the internal struggles of a Lutheran pastor wrestling with Hope and Despair, First Reformed is replete with symbolism. Some of it seems a bit obvious. (There’s this girl named Mary who has a…ahem…growing concern…) But even though certain things come across as clear symbols or clues, unraveling their significance is a delicate business that leaves plenty of room for mystery.
Hollywood usually does a notoriously poor job of exploring religion. But apparently writer/director Paul Schrader (probably most famous for writing Taxi Driver) grew up with observant (even strict) Protestant parents (which I never knew), and he’s definitely approaching the material from a place of sincerity. Scripture is all over this movie. (In one scene, it’s literally written on the wall.) And it’s not just trotted out in an obligatory and shallow way to give the audience the illusion that the film is about Christianity. The film actually is about Christianity (in part). First Reformed earnestly presents a man of faith asking legitimate questions with no easy answers. I watched thinking, Really, why aren’t there more films like this?
I also grew up with strict Protestant parents. They would argue that they’re not strict (though my sister would argue otherwise), and they would also correctly say that they were not Protestant (because we were Disciples of Christ, part of the Restorationist movement). But to non-church going people, this would all sound like, “Churchy churchy church church.” As an adult, I became Catholic and brought my parents to the Catholicism with me, so obviously, religion is a big part of my life. Yet I’m viscerally disgusted by over-commercialized, watered down, thought free, judgment heavy versions of Christianity. (When I was younger, I remember ranting to my mother after a bad date, “I’m interested in theology, not bumper sticker slogans!”)
Truly though, this film is very respectful of faith and of people of faith. Ethan Hawke’s Toller (genuinely caring yet detached, outwardly calm yet tormented) is the pastor of a small, historic Lutheran church (now), and he’s presented in a genuinely compelling and sympathetic light. He pours over Thomas Merton. He wrestles with his own grief and guilt. He listens to others over the voices of his own screaming inner demons. (I absolutely love the moment when Toller tells someone in distress that drinking “doesn’t help.” We later see that he knows it doesn’t help because it’s all he does in his spare time, and it’s not helping.) He wishes he could pray.
What I truly find compelling is the film’s treatment of Abundant Life, the sprawling, megachurch that oversees First Reformed. I’m instinctively wary of megachurches. (But sometimes, they’re perfectly okay. It’s partially an aesthetic prejudice with me.) This church and its pastor played by Cedric Kyles (which is Cedric the Entertainer’s last name!) seem set up to be objects of ridicule, easy villains. But that’s not really what happens. Abundant Life actually seems like a pretty good place. And Cedric the Entertainer’s character is a good pastor. (It’s a great part for him, by the way, and he gives a fantastic performance.) Honestly, he’s quite convincing as a pastor, and the advice he gives Toller (about how he’s “always in the garden”) is actually pretty sound. This character really is trying to serve the community, and he really does seem like an actual Christian. He has a different approach and a different focus than Toller, but ultimately, he’s much better at not going crazy. And somebody has to not go crazy!
What makes First Reformed a great film is that the characters are well drawn. Most of them are earnestly seeking answers that are notoriously elusive. We do get some negative voices who don’t seem interested in communication—the hostile kid in the youth group, the wealthy and opinionated Mr. Balq. Ultimately the vaguely sympathetic but disturbed activist Michael (brilliantly played by Philip Ettinger) also becomes disinterested in conversation. We hear from his wife that he was once a good listener, but when we see him, his need to be heard eclipses his ability to listen.
One thing I really enjoy is that the movie seems to give us (what can I call it?) thematic exposition. Statements made in early conversations serve as an interpretive guide for puzzling through the full meaning of later sequences. Hawke’s Toller, for example, mentions each person’s complicated relationship to Hope and Despair, which gives us a great framework for understanding the motivations driving his own behavior if nothing else.
Another intriguing element of this film is that it keeps us off balance. Like Phantom Thread, we watch and watch, never quite certain of what we’re watching for until it’s already happened. For a time, I wondered if this were some kind of murder mystery. Then I realized that we were all guilty. (Checks out.) I will say that I thought again and again of Humphrey Bogart while watching First Reformed. It reminded me at times of a film noir. Toller’s part could have been played by Bogart. Maybe it was all the old buildings and fixtures. Maybe something about the performance. (I wonder if he thought of Bogart while playing the part for reasons I won’t mention.) It kind of reminded me of Chinatown, too, but not for the reason you might think.
Best Scene Visually:
I love all the visuals in this. When I was teaching in grad school, I used to watch movies without sound, so I could make up discussion questions about them without disturbing others. I quickly discovered this is a great way to pay attention to how a film works visually. I would really love to watch First Reformed this way.
But honestly, the soundscape of this film is already very sparse. My husband (who apparently was counting) counted four instances of music not originating from an onscreen source. The score is very minimal. It’s one of those ominous sound scores that seem to be so popular in art films lately. You’d never listen to it for pleasure. (The selection of hymns played by characters in the story is good, though.) Maybe the blasts of sound are meant to mimic organ chords. This film is quite obsessed with that organ. (The pastor of Abundant Life is obsessed with it, too, because it’s broken, and they need it for the upcoming 250th anniversary celebration! But Toller is more blasé when it comes to massive organ failure.) We get two off-color jokes involving the organ. (Cedric the Entertainer’s blue humor historical anecdote is fantastic. He’s really great in this movie. By the way, I love the sound he makes as he shifts in his chair. Even aurally, I was convinced that he was a real pastor.)
I guess I’m stalling with all this talk about sound because every scene is the best scene visually for me. The whole movie is so visual. Our first look at the front of the church is amazing. Ethan Hawke’s brow crease is its own character. I love the garbage can moment. My husband remarked on how perfectly centered the first shot of Michael and Mary’s house is. Even the car is parked dead center, but the next time Toller visits the house, his car is off-center and he enters from the side. (My husband noticed that the camera remains stationary, even if the characters move out of the frame. “That’s an interesting way of putting it,” I said. “I had been thinking it reminded me of a stage play.”)
Also, the whole film is just dripping with visual symbolism (and sometimes blood). My husband kept thinking of The Scarlet Letter. I was more than once reminded of Moby Dick. Either way, you’re bound to leave this movie with fond (or at least disturbing) memories of my junior English class.
Best Action Sequence:
The way Hawke plays Toller’s preparations for the ceremony is incredible. It’s like Mr. Rogers starring in Braveheart. It’s not really like that, but I can’t think of an eloquent way to praise his work, so I went with a joke instead. I love his passion and control in the scene.
Also, I’m a huge fan of the moment when he finally gets rid of Esther (Victoria Hill). I love the unexpected intensity of that moment.
Best Scene:
The intensity at play between Toller and Michael is electric in their first conversation. That’s the scene when I first noticed my beloved furrow in Hawke’s brow. That must be achieved through a combination of lighting and acting because it appears to get deeper and more prominent as the scene goes on.
The Negatives:
When the credits finally did roll–because at first, I thought maybe the last reel of the film had been destroyed in a freak projection booth fire or something–I whispered to my husband, “Now we know the perfect way to trigger our fifteen-year-old.” Movies with vague or unsatisfying endings “trigger” him (his words), so he spent much of Oscar season triggered. And if the ending of Three Billboards drove him nuts, this one will really push him over the edge.
“That ending was like Phantom Thread,” my husband declared immediately, “but in a bad way.”
If you’re saying quizzically to yourself, “Wasn’t Phantom Thread the bad way?” then First Reformed is probably not the movie for you.
It’s a great film, but it has the most abrupt ending since Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
Honestly, that’s not really a bad thing (once you take a few minutes to process it), but if you haven’t exactly liked the rest of the movie, then you’re really going to hate the ending.
I liked the movie, and I think the ending works, but I’m not sure that I loved the Magical Mystery Tour scene. To be fair, I’m not a fan of scenes like this in general. By scenes like this, I mean those moments late in a film that interrupt the narrative of ordinary events to show us a fantasy sequence of a character’s internal passions externalized and dramatized. Think of that moment in The Shape of Water when the mute protagonist breaks into a black-and-white song-and-dance number. Lots of high concept films include these types of sequences, and they almost never work for me. I don’t object in theory. I just usually find them jarring as I experience them.
This particular fantasy sequence is great on a symbolic level. Aside from the obvious message that we’re destroying our world, I also liked the suggestion that perhaps one person can experience comfort by releasing negative energy while the other almost sacrificially absorbs it all. But honestly, I struggled to stay in the moment while watching this particular sequence specifically because the first half of the experience looked so much like the Soarin’ ride so popular at Disney parks. (I mean, seriously, it looked so much like the exact same footage that I expected it to end with fireworks over the castle.)
For a while, the movie scared me. I thought it was going to let the environmentalist message overwhelm and simplify the story. But it didn’t. I agree with Toller about the environment, but one thing that makes the film so compelling is his bafflement that others don’t find this as self-evident and alarming.
Overall:
Nobody is too likely to wander into First Reformed expecting a popcorn-friendly alternative to Deadpool or Solo. If you see this movie, chances are you’re looking for it. And if you want to see it badly enough to look for it, then you’ll probably like it.
I think it’s a great film, with staggering visuals and an absolutely brilliant lead performance by Ethan Hawke.