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Movie Review on Noah
This past week, I watched the new movie Noah with considerable interest. The newest book of my Genesis commentary deals largely with the story of Noah and the moral questions raised by the Noah narrative. Naturally, whether a person writes a script or a commentary on a biblical story, Aronofsky's film is an excellent midrashic exposition of an old familiar biblical story. The meaning of "midrash" is interpretation. Whenever we interpret a biblical narrative or law, our interpretations say more about us—the readers—than it does about the text itself. This point certainly applies to the new Noah movie that features the actor Russell Crow as Noah.
The movie seemed to borrow ideas from the Book of Enoch, which speaks about the fallen angels who came down to earth. However, contrary to Aronofsky's portrayal that the fallen angels wanted to help humankind, God had warned the angels to keep their distance because they would lose their spiritual innocence and become more corrupt than the mortals these angels criticized. In effect, these supernatural beings caused the rapid deterioration of early man.
Like Monday morning quarterbacking, it is easy to criticize a team for failing to make the correct play of a contested football game. Hindsight is typically 20/20. According to the Book of Enoch, the Watchers found the earth girls, well—seductive. They fathered children who were the Greek equivalent of the demigods, whom Zeus and the deities of Olympus decided to wipe out through a flood! Although the Watchers wanted to improve the earth, they only made it worse. [1]
This is one example of how Aronofsky veered from the ancient Judaic literature that was written about the Flood almost 2000 years ago. Much of Aronfsky's narrative depicted the sons of Noah as not having wives when the flood occurs. However, the biblical narrator flatly says that Noah's sons were married before the Flood had occurred. By denying this detail, Aronfsky completely rewrites the story of Noah in a manner that is radically different and disingenuous. The movie Noah in some ways reminded me a little of Braveheart, Prophecy, Transformers, Psycho, and the "Binding of Isaac."
One more detail, Aronofsky and Russell Crowe like showing the audience that Noah really knows how to fight! Aronofsky also portrays Noah as wearing black leather pants and jackets; not only is such an image of Noah inconsistent with the idea that he was a vegetarian, leather pants were not invented until the 8th century B.C.E., by the Persians. Aronofsky probably did not want to show a bunch of men fighting in togas or flowing robes. We can certainly forgive him for that minor inaccuracy.
Darren Aronofsky's Noah is a postmodern reformatting of the biblical narrative we all grew to know as children. Yet, despite some of these criticisms, there is much to admire about the film.
The dramatic portrayal of Cain and Abel and its cascading images throughout recorded history was visually effective. The biblical writer of Noah probably would have shared Aronofsky's disdain for urbanization and man's lust for power. Some critics think Aronofsky attributes the flood to man giving up his vegetarian diet. Yet, even the rabbis suggest that the Seven Noahide Laws included a precept not to act cruelly toward animals—which was most likely a reaction to the antediluvian behavior of that generation.
The psychological transformation of Aronofsky's Noah is remarkable. According to the biblical story, God became fed up with humankind and its penchant for violence. This thought is not expressly evident in the movie for God never really "speaks" to Noah, but communicates to him through dream imagery and visions.[2]
Aronofsky portrays Noah as a man who hated humanity because of their wickedness. This would explain why he refuses to aid Ham's girlfriend because of his contempt for humanity. Yet, he is prepared to sacrifice his daughter-in-law, and her two baby girls who miraculously are born forty days after the flood subsides! (Now that's a real miracle!) After the flood, Noah comes to a strange realization that God does not want the world to have human beings because of their violent ways. Yes, Aronofsky's Noah sounds more like the Christian theologian Augustine who believed that man is incurably evil and is incapable of redeeming himself. Interestingly enough, Aronofsky demonstrates why Noah did not ask God to save humankind. The reason is simple: he despises what human beings have become! This interpretation is certainly consistent with the rabbinical view that criticizes Noah for his lack of human concern for his fellow beings.
When Noah came out of the ark, he opened his eyes and saw the whole world completely destroyed. He began crying for the world and said: "Master of the Universe! You are called Compassionate, but You have shown compassion for Your Creation?" The Holy Blessed One be He replied, "Foolish shepherd! . . . I lingered with you and spoke to you at length so that you would ask for mercy for the world! But, as soon as you heard that you would be safe in the ark, the evil of the world did not touch your heart. You built the ark and saved yourself. Now that the world has been destroyed, you dare open your mouth to utter questions and pleas?! [3]
This part of the film seemed as though Aronofsky had recreated the Binding of Isaac and it is only the humanity of his wife who shows him the error of his ways. Despite himself, Noah eventually comes to see that God desires that we as humans redeem and save the world around us.
Does this have ecological relevance for today? Of course it does. Christian evangelicals ought to embrace this aspect of the Noah story. Regardless whatever one may feel about Aronofsky's Noah, the writer succeeded in portraying Noah as an ecological hero, for indeed, he is—he single-handedly saves the world and himself as well.
If God could choose an imperfect person like Noah to make a difference in bettering and improving the world, then there may be hope for the rest of us who are reading his story. Noah is an entertaining film; despite my reservations on some of the details of the film, I will give it 4 stars!
[1] In Book 1 of Metamorphoses, the Roman poet Ovid (43 B.C.E. – 17. C.E.) weaves an elaborate chain of tales pertaining to the creaturely and cosmic transformations. Like the thematic layout of Genesis, Ovid first begins his work narrating about the creation of the world, Ovid then transitions to how the council of gods decided to bring a great flood to destroy all life. There is a clear etiological purpose of both the biblical and the Metamorphoses narratives in defining how the present world has become what it is. In addition, both books contain numerous moral parables about the human condition. Ovid's retelling of the Flood story differs in one very important respect from the Mesopotamian narratives. Like the Noah narrative, Ovid attributes the flood not to the gods' caprice or insomnia, but to human corruption and evil.
[2] Parenthetically I must add that Maimonides probably would have enjoyed this part of the film for he always maintained that God speaks to human beings through dream or visionary imagery.
[3] Zohar Hadash Noah, 29a
RabbiMichael Leo Samuel is spiritual leader of Temple Beth Shalom in Chula Vista. He may be contacted via michael.samuel@sdjewishworld.com
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Opening the Empathic Imagination
The language of empathy is hardwired into the consciousness of many higher mammals. Human beings share the capacity to experience empathy for others. Of course, human beings are different in one basic respect from the animal kingdom. Whereas empathy is something that is instinctual in the animal kingdom, human beings possess the unique ability to reprogram their psyche and deny their basic empathic feelings.
The hardened heart is a familiar metaphor in the Bible. Pharaoh, as we know, suffered from a hardened heart. The metaphor of the hardened heart describes how Pharaoh denied his humanity. The heart in the Bible represents the core of our personhood—the wellspring of our humanity. It takes an act of will to deny its tender feelings. Conversely, it takes an act of will to allow the feelings that make us human, come alive.
Remarkably, the face of human suffering does have the ability to make even hard-hearted people to open their hearts.
When we think about the challenges that face Israelis and Palestinians, the status quo is determined to maintain the current state of conflict. Indeed, nothing can be more threatening than someone who is willing to step outside of his or her platonic caves and behold a different reality—a world suffused with light and endless new possibilities.
A brave Palestinian professor named Professor Mohammed S. Dajani did something that most of us probably never thought was possible: He took about thirty students on a visit to Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp.
The West-bank professor upset the Al-Quds University administration; they denounced Dajani as a traitor and collaborator—accusations that usually inspire death threats and imprisonment. Like the man of Plato's cave, he went beyond the cave's walls and discovered an alternative world. Just as the man was later threatened by other cave-dwellers, so too Dajani now must face the wrath of his own people, whom he has dedicated himself to helping.
The German Research Foundation promoted and underwrote this educational project; it was part of a joint program on conflict resolution entitled, "Hearts of Flesh—Not Stone." The Israeli students from Ben-Gurion University visited the Dheishe Refugee Camp in Bethlehem as part of the same project.
The term Hearts of Flesh—not Stone is a powerful name, obviously inspired by the famous biblical passage in the Book of Ezekiel:
I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. (Ezekiel 36:26)
The Palestinian professor who led his students in conflict resolution on a historic visit to Auschwitz-Birkenau has responded to his critics, declaring that he will not be silenced and, if given the chance, he would do it again.
"The trip went well as planned," Prof Dajani told the Jersulaem Post when he returned home. "It helped to explore what lessons would be learnt, and to instill commitment to alleviate human misery by not being a bystander."
The students learnt a lot from this visit about human suffering," he said. "The visit gave them an in-depth understanding of the various aspects of the Holocaust. They now have answers for those who deny the Holocaust. 'I was there. I saw what happened. I walked on the ground where it happened.' I find it difficult to understand why anyone would oppose such a visit since students learnt much more than they would sitting in a classroom."
Such atrocities should not be repeated anywhere and for any reason," he said. "They were committed by zealots and extremists and they can be prevented from happening in the future by spreading a culture of moderation, tolerance, and acceptance of the fact we do not need to be copies of each other to exist together and live with one another."
"I will go to Ramallah, I will go to the university, I will put my photos of the visit on Facebook, and I do not regret for one second what I did. As a matter of fact, I will do it again if given the opportunity. I will not hide, I will not deny. I will not be silent. I will not remain a bystander even if the victims of the suffering I show empathy for are my occupiers. And this is my final statement on this issue."
When we think about the cure for the world's most intractable problems, the language of empathy offers us the most humane means through which we can heal the world of what ails it. Let us pray that the Palestinian students' lives will someday give birth to a new Palestinian and Israeli reality. Political solutions devoid of humanity are condemned to fail; but if we learn to understand the language of suffering—perhaps we can triumph over our collective and individual despair and create a new tomorrow.
Michael Leo Samuel is the rabbi at Temple Beth Shalom in Chula Vista, California.
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