The Nicene Creed and the Beastie Boys

Anthony Lane has a devastating review of The Da Vinci Code, both book and movie, in The New Yorker.  Excerpts:

He [Robert Langdon, played by Tom Hanks] and Sophie visit a cheery old duffer in the countryside and spill every possible bean.  In this case, the duffer is Sir Leigh Teabing (Ian McKellen), who lectures them on the Emperor Constantine and the Council of Nicaea, in 325 A.D.  We get a flashback to the council in question, and I must say that, though I have recited the Nicene Creed throughout my adult life, I never realized that it was originally formulated in the middle of a Beastie Boys concert. * *

There is also Silas (Paul Bettany), a cowled albino monk whose hobbies include self-flagellation, multiple homicide, and irregular Latin verbs. He works for Opus Dei, the Catholic organization so intensely secretive that its American headquarters are tucked away in a seventeen-story building on Lexington Avenue.  Silas answers to Bishop Aringarosa (Alfred Molina), who in turn answers to his cell phone, his Creator, and not much else. Between them, they track Langdon and Sophie to England, where a new villain, hitherto suspected by nobody except the audience, is prevented from shooting his quarry because, unusual for London, there is a gaggle of nuns in the way—God’s Work if ever I saw it, although I wouldn’t say so to a member of Opus Dei. * * *

[N]o question has been more contentious than this:  if a person of sound mind begins reading the book at ten o’clock in the morning, at what time will he or she come to the realization that it is unmitigated junk?  The answer, in my case, was 10:00.03, shortly after I read the opening sentence: “Renowned curator Jacques Saunière staggered through the vaulted archway of the museum’s Grand Gallery.”  With that one word, “renowned,” Brown proves that he hails from the school of elbow-joggers—nervy, worrisome authors who can’t stop shoving us along with jabs of information and opinion that we don’t yet require. (Buried far below this tic is an author’s fear that his command of basic, unadorned English will not do the job; in the case of Brown, he’s right.) * * *

The film is directed by Ron Howard and written by Akiva Goldsman, the master wordsmith who brought us “Batman & Robin.”  I assumed that such an achievement would result in Goldsman’s being legally banned from any of the verbal professions, but, no, here he is yet again. * * *

Behold, I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people, except at Columbia Pictures, where the power lunches won’t even be half-started.  The Catholic Church has nothing to fear from this film. It is not just tripe. It is self-evident, spirit-lowering tripe that could not conceivably cause a single member of the flock to turn aside from the faith.  Meanwhile, art historians can sleep easy once more, while fans of the book, which has finally been exposed for the pompous fraud that it is, will be shaken from their trance.  In fact, the sole beneficiaries of the entire fiasco will be members of Opus Dei, some of whom practice mortification of the flesh.  From now on, such penance will be simple—no lashings, no spiked cuff around the thigh. Just the price of a movie ticket, and two and a half hours of pain.

Comments

[Robert Landbeck]

If nothing else comes out of the DaVinci Code but an examination of the Council of Nicaea, that will be enough. For whatever spin is put on, it demonstrates that there was no 'revelation' passed on by Christ and his Apostles for the purpose of founding a church. The foundations of the 'church' are theological. A very human intellectual endeavour. Has Christianity even started? Yet?

[Scott]

Ooh, two in a night... what am I doing up reading blogs??

Anyway, I couldn't resist this one. I read that review, I loved it, thanks for posting it so I can read it again. Enjoyed it again. But I'm more concerned with the one comment here.

I simply adore the fact that Mr. Landbeck is basing his theology on a movie, based on a book regarding which every bit of scholarly investigation done comes down hard on its fundamental inaccuracy: factually it is, for all intents and purposes, a fairy tale. Everything: the art history, the institutions of the Church, the theology... name it, Dan Brown either made it up, twisted it beyond recognition, or picked it up from (no kidding) conspiracy theorists. This becomes especially intriguing given the solid, established historical record (backed up by actual artifacts and reliable witness) that at the very least the Apostles did found and pass on rather specific ideas about the Church.

Methinks someone is missing the requisite knowledge of 2nd century Gnosticism and Church history to realize that the secret "revelation" was never claimed by the Church--that's the Gnostics' bag. All that "human intellectual endeavor" theology is well-attested by the writings of the actual Apostles dating from the 1st century, which in turn are well attested by their followers and their followers and so on (you get the idea).

The Da Vinci Code literally demonstrates nothing but Dan Brown's imagination and lack of scruples. All you have to do is look, the evidence is all around. Read a book (non-fiction this time).