Concussion: another Christian football movie?

Facing the Giants,

When the Game Stands Tall,

Woodlawn ...

...Concussion?

I've been hopeful about Concussion. It's a film about a problem that I care about very deeply.

But I certainly didn't anticipate what I recently read about it in The New Yorker.

Ian Crouch writes:

It’s not a sports movie, or a medical thriller, so much as a Christian homily.

So, yeah. That was unexpected.

Crouch continues:

telling the Christian Post

Hmmm.

Is Crouch the only one picking up on this focus on faith in the movie? Let's look around.

At Christianity Today, Alicia Cohn writes:

Concussion

All of this is giving me a strange feeling.

I mean, seriously — people talk about so many other faith-related football movies as "Christian movies," or titles that are part of a "Christian movie industry." What's preventing Concussion from being received in the same way? Why aren't churches jumping on the Concussion bandwagon and campaigning for people to see it because of its Christian hero? Why aren't they producing evangelical tracts and handing them to moviegoers as they exit the theater?

Don't get me wrong: I think it's a bad idea altogether to herald some movies as "Christian" and turn them into occasions of aggressive evangelism. That kind of propaganda does more harm than good, and is likely to spoil anybody's willingness to entertain the questions a work of art might inspire in their minds. But I'm curious as to why Concussion isn't getting the Facing the Giants or Woodlawn treatment, since it seems to meet the basic criteria of being A) a movie about a Christian hero, and B) a movie that explores the challenge of faith in the context of football.

A troubling answer suggests itself: Perhaps the audience that loves Facing the Giants and Woodlawn feels threatened by a movie about a doctor who uses science to challenge their other favorite Sunday ritual.

Perhaps the only Christian movies that make sense to the Facing the Giants crowd are those in which Christians are heroes achieving a victory with force on the field, victory as defined by culture rather than Christianity. Perhaps they aren't interested in a story about a God-fearing man who suffers for his belief, seeking to respect human life and health by pushing back against worldly corporations in what will probably be a losing battle.

Is our faith really so juvenile that we only get excited about films that make Christians look like glorious and triumphant champions?

Personally, I think that any film that honors truth — scientific truth, biological truth, medicinal truth — is honoring the God of All Truth. The only definition of "Christian movie" that makes sense to me is one that includes films that invite us into encounters with beauty, truth, and mystery — not those that cut corners on beauty and mystery in order to shove a didactic version of truth down our throats.

I sense the power of God in films that, through

through what has been made

But if a work of art starts organizing its information and storytelling to try and persuade the audience of a particular lesson, then its artistry diminishes and it becomes an attempt to exert power and influence over an audience instead of an invitation for them to have a unique experience of their own.

So, what is Concussion? Is it an occasion of artistic tools being employed to try and convert an audience, or is it a work of art?

In CT, Cohn says:

attempting to make a fictionalized movie both a blockbuster and an educational showpiece means the film suffers in both directionsConcussiona fairly formulaic tale of David versus Goliath

And in The New Yorker, Crouch says,

The message is strikingly, and at times rather painfully, clear:a heavy-handed, often treacly movie....

Uh oh. Now it sounds like that other definition of "Christian movie." The over-zealous, heavy-handed kind.

Wait. Crouch concludes with this...

not that the N.F.L. stood in the way of scientific research about the health of its players but that it occupies a false place within the religious and patriotic beliefs of so many of its fans, whose Sabbath routines are timed perfectly so that Sunday service ends just in time for kickoff.

Wow.

So maybe Concussion isn't a great work of art. (I haven't seen it yet. Have you?) But as a lesson, it sounds to me like it might cause some viewers to stop and think about what they're endorsing with their Sunday football rituals. If it encourages this kind of reflection, and if it ultimately helps change a sport that is costing good men their minds for our amusement, then I'm glad to see such a lesson being taught in theaters near you and me.

Now, hold on. There's more. Cohn ends her CT review saying,

Concussionnot even God could convince the NFL to listen.

So... maybe the film will be better at spreading a sense of helplessness and despair than inspiring people to seek change?

As someone whose love of football has already been shattered by the NFL's obvious cover-ups, and by its apparent indifference to the suffering that its game and its culture causes in the lives of its players and their families —  to say nothing of how many children suffer severe injuries dreaming of living up to the league's show-business ideals — I'm rooting for whatever will change the game permanently, or persuade parents to protect their children from it.

But I also think this subject deserves the attention of great artists who will know how to draw us into a more rewarding engagement with the subject.

Thoughts?