The Passion of Joan of Arc

 

Watching Dreyer’s 1928 silent movie “The Passion of Joan of Arc” with my kids. It is a harrowing experience, that must be had and cannot be undone. It is unfathomable the spiritual suffering this uneducated girl of nineteen must have gone through.

She was in the hands of her enemies, of course. She was threatened with a painful death, as painful as they could conceive. She was abandoned by Charles VII, who might have ransomed her—although he owed his throne to her. Put not your faith in princes.

But worst of all, those who actually tormented her at her trial were not just fellow Frenchmen, but religious authorities. They put her in the unspeakable position of having to deny either her direct relationship with God, or the authority of the church. She was all alone and could trust no one. And, if she chose wrongly, she risked eternal damnation.

If anyone ever earned heaven, she did. As Leonard Cohen wrote of her case,

“Me, I yearn for love and light;

But must it some so cruel, and oh, so bright?”

Yet her dilemma also expresses the experience of every abused child. The authority of the abusive parent keeps pulling against one’s own conscience; their plausible lies against one’s perception of reality.

It is probably this resonance in so many souls that makes the movie immortal.

The actress, Renee Falconetti, gives an incredibly compelling performance as Joan. One believes she is experiencing everything Joan experienced. One feels she must have been drawing on her own personal experiences.

May all abused children receive their reward in heaven.