Passach of the Christ?

You have to hand it to him- little Mel Gibson has really put the world in a tizzy with his Passion of the Christ movie. The diminutive antipodean is the consumate showman, Elmer Gantry mit boomerang, having motivated half the planet to flock to the multiplex in reverent awe and half to stomp indignantly to the ticket booth in order to spend two gruesome hours incandesent with rage. Love it or hate it, the Passion of the Christ has people both talking and handing over cash to see it.

I for one have not plunked down seven bucks to watch this Aramaic bondage movie. For one thing, I'm still boycotting the Brit-hating Gibson for the counter-factual The Patriot and Braveheart (turning the other cheek doesn't mean flapping the arse of your kilt, wee Mel.) Besides, I have no desire to sully my reverent awe of the greatest biblical epic ever made, The Life of Brian. Still, it pains me to see Gibbo having to defend his art against charges of anti-semitism and bigotry, if only because I dread seeing what his remake of D.W. Griffith's Intolerance would be like ("G'Day mate; we're the Ku Klux Klan!")

Gibson has sought to point out the sympathetic Jewish characters in the movie and has even cut the line where the Virgin Mary laments that all of Jesus's classmates went on to be doctors or lawyers but he had to be the messiah. Agahst that the "Jews of Mass Destruction" he portrays on the screen couldn't be found in the Bible, Mel has offered to make amends by directing a movie about the brave defenders of Massada, possibly with Billy Bob Thornton as Maccabaeus. To my mind, he doesn't have to commit the time or money to such a project. He could easily restore his image with non-insanely evangelical world by allowing a remake by a different Mel, as in Mel Brooks.

By allowing us to laugh at racism in Blazing Saddles and facism in The Producers, Mel Brooks helped remove the "monster under the bed" aspect and allowed us to see in part how pathetic, ludicrous, and laughable those discredited belief systems are. Imagine then what Brooks could do with anti-semitism if he had a whole film to skewer it with, rather than just a dance number in History of the World, Part One.

The beauty of it is that because so many of The Passion's devotees consider mainstream cinema to be the work of satan, Brook's doesn't even have to write a new script, and can instead just cobble together bits of his previous films into a new whole presented in aramaic, latin, and yiddish.

With Jackie Mason or Brooks himself as Christ you are guaranteed a mensch of a savior. I see either a Max Byalistock or Hedley Lamarr type as Pilate, and maybe a Mungo in the Judas role ("Forty-pieces-of-sliver-gram for Mister Mungo!") Imagine the disciples enjoying a last supper punctuated by uncontrolled farting. Mary Magdelene (played by Madeline Kahn) singing "Sick and Tired of Love." Maybe even a Jesus who holds a hammer to his own head shouting "Nobody move or the Jew gets it!" Ah yes, it's good to be the Christ.

With Brooks on board, there is a chance that the Passion could become the biggest apostolic musical since Jesus Christ, Superstar. Who could resist singing along with "Springtime for Jesus, in Galilee"?

Keep your fingers crossed that the Australian midget with more accent confusion than Madonna sees the light and plumps for this Mel Brooks' version. The only alternative would be to turn to Woody Allen, and if you think the Christian right hate Jewish people now, wait till after they have seen their savior as an aging neurotic nebbish with an implausibly young girlfriend and jokes that weren't fuuny in 1967.

Ahh, here I am; finally saddling up the information age pony and preparing to ride the range of transatlantic cyber self-absorption in the vain belief that anyone will want to read what I have to contribute to the gloopy morass of internet burblings. Still, as an ex- radio hack who has no desire to knuckle under and work for corporations who actively encourage their listeners to destroy the CDs of artists who don't share their politics, and as a writer who has the singular bad luck to keep hooking up with publications that merge or collapse, this interweb thingy seems to be the least ulcer inducing form of mass communication. At the very least, this blog will allow me to scratch the creative itch and spew indignant bile in a manner not dissimilar to the razor wanged demon of the tenth circle of Hindu hell. Besides, both Dave and Richard told me to.

British chums will notice that I opted to go with the red-topped tabloid motif, and like the booze addled hacks of olde London towne I fully expect to publish puce-faced rants packed with hyperbole and then retract them later in small print on a figurative page 23 (next to the classified ad for Caribbean on-line bookies.) However, with this being an election year here in the US and with me being a voteless resident alien, I reckon this will be a good a place as any to recklessly punch the chads based on my political biases.

As disclaimers go, I reckon the above is refreshingly honest.

I must admit that this project is off to a less than auspicious start. The Bush White House (as has been so often the case with so many things over the past four years) has thrown a spanner in the works, sabotaging my first planned diatribe. As I rode home from the day job, NPR reported that National Security Advisor Condeleeza Rice is going to testify publicly (and under oath) before the 9/11 Commission. Gone now is my chance to make sport of her omnicience on the TV talk shows attacking Richard Clark for doing the very thing she refused to do. I guess I'll just have to wait for her to potentially perjure herself before the commission before I wheel out those gags.

This kind of thing always happens to me. The two listeners of the former WMDI in Bar Harbor, Maine, might remember the simple enjoyment I used to get from saying "moley moley mole" in an odd husky voice when "The Mole" premiered on ABC. Then along comes "Goldmember" and Mike Meyers' permanently and inadvertently hijacked that little bit from my repetoire. Still, I shouldn't complain, considering that compared to Dick Emery I suffered lightly at the larcenous hands of Meyers.

My contract with the seekers of weasel wisdom:
1) I shall try to update at least twice a week.
2) I shall try to focus on one topic per post.
3) I shall not devote more than 20% of content to arcane and pointless flaming wars with other spotty herberts on the net.
4) I shall however publish emails from and defenestrate any right wing hack who raises his or her head above the parapet: they do it to us, so why not give them a taste of their own medicine?*

So the (not so) great adventure in ego-massaging has begun. Feel free to contact me via wisdomweasel@hotmail.com with feedback. I think next time I'll tackle the Passion of the Christ; I have a sure fire solution to those accusations of anti-semitism for you, Mr. Gibson...

* Once again, beaten to the punch; who knew Rush Limbaugh would take the Hillbilly Heroin route? I thought opiates made you lose weight.