No, Dragoneyes, dearie, I don't believe it has those undertones.... Faith, I didn't notice them, and even though I'm a Catholic I would have been madly annoyed if I had. Of course it depends on how you mean undertones.... sure, the message is Christian, because it's dear Jesus' death, but there isn't a scene where you'll suddenly get a closeup, and so-and-so will start talking to whoever's about him, whilst talking to the audience at the same time, trying to push some message upon you. I think the closest you could get would be the flash-backs, as the movie starts in the Garden, of Jesus standing and preaching to the crowds, but perhaps you've heard it all already, seeing as it is all quoted from the Bible.
But, faith, with a movie like that that a lot of people are going to watch, it's a bad idea to put that pushy evangilizing stuff in. That's a good thing for some people, granted, but with other people it just annoys them to death. I was born a Catholic, raised a Catholic, and I fully intend to die a Catholic, but if I
wasn't a Christian already, I'd fit into the category of those who are seriously annoyed by anyone trying to push the Faith on me. Well, goodness, I get annoyed seeing anyone try to push the Faith on anyone else.
I think I can assure you that the movie has no such undertonings, and if you feel promptings to become a Christian it isn't coming from the film.
And, by the way, if by some chance you do feel urged to be a Christian, choose the Catholic Faith. ;D
As for my own personal experience, I'll say very little, for what once is locked in the heart and soul does not care to come out easily. It was something I had seen in my heart since my baby years, but to see it from eyes was moving. The film, I have heard numerous people cry, was terrible (that is, very gruesome, very bloody, though there are those who say it's a stupid film), and they don't think they'd have the courage to watch it again. Faith! I cry, for I'd watch it as many times as I possibly could! The rumours made no sense when I came out of the theatre... Where was the famed awfulness, the famed horror of watching a man be torn to pieces? It was naught but beauty, beauty,
beauty to me! Dear Jesus didn't want us to think on it as a horrible event, but He wanted us to remember it and cherish it in our hearts, as the greatest event of all time, the most beautiful, when a Man laid down His life not only for our own lives but for our souls. Faith, what's so awful about that?
I went with my church group and afterwards I was rather surprised at the impression they got. I felt foolish listening to them, for I feel I was much too immersed in the film. They talked about how moving it was to see what dear Jesus had done for
us, and how they were thinking, 'All this pain and suffering for us sinners!' Gracious, but I was selfishly thinking, 'All this pain and suffering for
me, most wretched of all!' Oh yes, for with each painful step under the sweet, heavy burden of the Cross, I saw in my mind what I had seen all my years in my heart... dear Jesus, taking step by step, and looking at me the whole way, and loving me with all his dear Heart, and doing all, all, with ME before Him, and for me specifically. But didn't He do it for everyone as individuals, and not just looking at them as a mass of people, but each one a precious child of His that He loved in a special way? Faith, wasn't I glad I had brought my Rosary with me so I could just close my hands about the Crucifix as I had done whilst praying the Sorrowful Mysteries, and just bow my head and weep. Ochone, it
was awful, His death, but it was ruled out, ruled out entirely by the beauty of it all. Never, never could I look away from what I was seeing, unless it was when Our Blessed Mother was shown, so I could look away and weep until all the 'awfulness' was shown again.
Ahem.... I didn't mean to talk so much. On a less deep level, it was very nice to go there and see men and laddies who weren't ashamed to weep, because they loved their Faith
that much. The lads aren't as... emotional... in their Faith as the lassies, generally, and so during the Rosary the girls will be talking out loud and the boys will be mumbling the
Hail Marys, or maybe not saying anything and pretending to be ignoring it all. But deep down inside they're praying perhaps the most fervently of the lot of them, because they've been raised by good fathers and mothers who taught them what it means to be a Soldier of Christ, even before they're confirmed and are officially entered into the position. And when they saw before them, visually, their Jesus dying, dying for them, how could they help but weep? They were His Soldiers, and when the Captain valiantly fell for the sake of His Soldiers, the Soldiers were reduced to tears, and there probably wasn't one of them who thought, 'Well, I deserved it, anyway.' No, they should think that they didn't deserve it at all, but then the Captain would jump up from His grave and ascend His glorious throne, and He'd say, 'You didn't deserve it? Well then, deserve it! Live like My Soldier and don't be afraid to die like a Soldier of Mine, and perhaps I'll be the one to say whether you deserved it or not.'
Oh, yes, what was it for a lassie to go and see the brave, strong lads crumbling to pieces around her? I had a good grip on my emotions and I wasn't crying a bit, 'till I heard the sobs and I realized the men were sobbing, bless their dear heats, and then everything broke way with me and I was crying for nearly the whole length of the movie, and so were they, and if I got myself managed again and could stop crying, I'd hear them again and I'd just dissolve into tears again. Faith, but it was precious,
precious, and something that one won't see every day.
And everyone walked out, feeling lost to themselves and to everything else, and eyes were fixed up at the stars and contemplating them while at the same time disregarding them, and I know I'm not the only one who has confessed to feeling they've just come out of Mass, for, faith, isn't it the same sacrifice, saving that Jesus doesn't actually come into our hearts and souls like He does at the Eucharist?
Oh, surely, surely I'll watch it again, and probably cry madly again, seeing as I'll be surrounded by all my brothers, having not a sister to speak of, and no woman in the house save my mother. Oh, faith, but wouldn't I cry hardest because there was my Jesus, dying for
me, seeing me before Him all the hard way.... the beauty, the loveliness... oh, all too overwhelming, indeed.
Reflecting upon the beginning of my review, I cry in anger, 'Bah humbug! What did I say about saying only very little? There I go again.'