#NowWatching “Silence.”

This is my first time revisiting the film since its original release back in 2017. I figure I should do it as part of my Scorsese rewatch.

I am very curious what it’ll be like after rewatching “The Last Temptation of Christ” and “Kundun.”

“They not only refused to apostatize, they asked to be tortured so they could demonstrate the strength of their faith and the presence of God within them. Some remained on the mountain for 33 days.”

At the heart of “Silence” is an inversion of “The Last Temptation of Christ.”

“The Last Temptation of Christ” is the story of a divine representative who longs only to be human, to be free of his burden.

“Silence” reverses that dynamic, focusing on a man who tries repeatedly to see in himself something of the divine.

There is a tension in “Silence” that which I remember finding compelling; the ambiguity of that pride, the question of how much Sebastião and Cristóvão were doing for the Glory of God, and how much for pride.

This is deliberately complicated by the obvious colonial subtext.

This is a recurring motif in Scorsese’s tackling of faith.

In that in “The Last Temptation of Christ” and “Silence”, it’s not certainty that defines true faith - but doubt.

Which is, admittedly, something I’ve always found with my own religious belief.

“And he said to them: Go ye into the whole world, and preach the gospel to every creature. Even to one such as this.”

The film juxtaposes Sebastião’s pride (and arrogance) with the failings of Kichijirō.

Kichijirō doubts and betrays, repents and fails again.

Again, in terms of parallels, the empathy that “Silence” retains for Kichijirō amid all his failures and betrayals reminds me of how Scorsese was so drawn to Judas in “The Last Temptation of Christ.”

Because the doubt and redemption is key to the whole process.

“I was overwhelmed right away by the love I felt from these people, even though their faces couldn't show it.”

The use of voiceover in “Silence” is interesting, because it uses it as heavily as films like “Taxi Driver”, “Goodfellas”, “Casino” and “The Wolf of Wall Street.”

However, it’s interesting to see Scorsese slow that sort of storytelling down slower than he ever has.

Coming right after “The Wolf of Wall Street”, where he arguably pushed it to the other extreme.

I am not entirely sure it works, but I admire the attempt.

The gentle, steady, assured pace of “Silence” is certainly striking when watched in quick succession with the coke-fueled intensity of “The Wolf of Wall Street.”

It’s very purposeful and very deliberate, and it fits the material.

“But Christ did not die for the good
and beautiful. That is easy enough. The hard thing is to die for the miserable and corrupt.”

The film realises it and is built around it, but Sebastião is such an insufferable asshole.

He’s such an arrogant, condescending dick.

I think, similar to Henry Hill in “Goodfellas”, Sebastião may be my biggest issue with “Silence.” (I still love “Goodfellas”, just as not much as most.)

In that I get (and appreciate) what the film is doing, but it’s a lot to spend a full movie inside his head.

“We wouldn’t be in such trouble if the Padres had never come.”

From the outset, “Silence” is quite explicit about the... ambiguity of what Sebastião and Francisco are doing, and who exactly is going to pay for their glory.

Even before the second half really hammers it home.

Incidentally, the production on “Silence” is stunning.

Special shout out to Rodrigo Prieto’s cinematography, Kim Allen Kluge and Kathryn Kluge’s minimalist score and Dante Ferretti’s production design.

“The blood of martyrs is the seed of the church.”

The central tension of “Silence” is compelling - that the true strength of one’s faith might be measured by the willingness to let others suffer, to spare one’s self martyrdom.

After all, martyrdom only furthers the romance.

It wouldn’t be “easy” for Sebastião to be martyred, but it would at least be his own suffering. It would also validate his own faith, and further his own belief in himself as a representative of the church.

It is implied that he might even long for the clarity of martyrdom.

“We wanted to be fair. And we do have a better grasp of your language than you do of ours.”

“Silence” understands the inherent arrogance and cultural imperialism of a bunch of Portuguese and Spaniards showing up and telling the Japanese what they should believe.

“Silence” repeatedly emphasises how little Sebastião knows about the land to which he would bring “the Truth.”

He cannot recognise the Inquisitor sitting right in front of him, he can barely speak Japanese, he constantly has to have history and tradition explained to him.

“The business of his faith was long ended.”

I think there’s something very interesting in “Silence” as a “late” film, a film towards the end of something.

The film’s closing act is a beautiful meditation on what it’s like to live “after” belief, if that distinction is possible.

Is it ever possible to truly *stop* believing, and if so is that quantified by any substantive measure?

After all, true belief must be something more intrinsic than actions or words or totems.

Can that part of self ever truly be excised or destroyed, even if it’s not exercised?

I know Scorsese first read “Silence” while in Japan to appear in “Dreams”, one of Kurosawa’s last films.

However, “Silence” feels very much like it could only be the work of a much older director, perhaps working through his own similar meditations.