Post-Viewing: The many perspectives and interpretations of Silence

January is usually a wild month for film here in the UK; while across the pond for US audiences the month is treated as a dumping ground for all sorts of rubbish, over here the big hitters come at us thick and fast. Silence from Martin Scorsese is the first of these and its complex themes resonate far beyond its narrative and characters. It asks difficult questions about human nature, its attachment to religion and how it affects us. The film pulled me in and got me thinking; for those of us who don’t believe in any specific religion, that’s a huge achievement. Here are my own thoughts and interpretations on the film, mostly concerning its final act.

“Silence” as a word connotes many meanings; in the film, its central theme is that God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit do not respond to prayers or communes therefore how can they exist? It also applies to the Japanese villagers who are persecuted and must therefore practice covertly. Finally, it refers to the pivotal scene in which Jesus speaks to Sebastian, the sound completely draining out of the scene; it’s a remarkably poignant moment as he finally gives in.

Towards the end of the film Sebastian finally finds his missing teacher and right from the offset there’s a look of intense resignation on Liam Neeson’s face. He tells his pupil that he has dedicated himself to a study of astronomy and science and attempts to compel him to do the same. When Father Ferrero says the words: “Mountains and rivers can be moved, human nature cannot” it can apply to any point of history. Is there an inevitability to us as a species, the notion that differences and incompatibilities will forever divide us? You can argue that both sides of the narrative are stubborn and intolerant. The Judaist priests believe with such conviction that Christianity should be spread everywhere that they are unable to understand the other side, whereas the Japanese will not tolerate even a hint of Christianity in their country because it may serve a reminder of the defeated Roman Catholics, thus galvanising support for an enemy that was already put down. In the end though it is Sebastian who must learn that his religion simply “cannot take root in a swamp”; there can be no common ground or understanding between the two perspectives.

After Sebastian renounces the Christian faith, a new life begins for him as he works with the Japanese and at this point the film’s perspective is split between him and a Dutch trader. The trader is fascinated by Sebastian’s seemingly docile state, but later he comes across Kichijiro, the film’s Judas archetype one last time and a beautiful split shot conveys the positions of the two characters. Sebastian is in light and Kichijiro is in shadow, emphasising the way he is consumed by sin and darkness just as Judas was after his betrayal. Silence ends with Sebastian's burial, which shows his crucifix still in his hands; this implies the sheer power of faith and religion to carry on its existence within the mind; even after all his suffering, did Sebastian still carry some parts of his belief all the way to the end? You could ask the same of anyone who has been persecuted for their religion. The character of Kichikiro himself is caught in between the two sides throughout the film, unable to choose between his own desires and following God; he is someone who has lost everything, his entire family executed by the Shogunate and yet he keeps coming back despite his deeds. You can choose to believe in his commitment or label him a coward for his actions and this divides the film’s ultimate message into two opposing perspectives.

A quote hangs over the end credits dedicated to those who were abused for their religion, almost an epitaph for the people who attempted to spread and practice Christianity but were brutally crushed by the Shogunates of the time. It encourages an emotional response towards a group of people who had their religion stripped from them. This lack of intolerance caused unbelievable suffering which speaks to the violent nature of man and our need for control; is full co-existence truly impossible for us? The film has a sad, almost tragic conclusion if you choose to view it in this way.

Or could the film be more anti-religious? Christianity compels people to believe in something logically impossible, an invisible being and his son in the sky who promise paradise to those who believe. Yet religion itself is show to control people, to the point of indoctrination; the villagers bow down as the priests approach, hold their heads low when spoken to and constantly have them on their minds. But it’s Sebastian and Francisco who appear the most swept up in Christianity, something which could have made them more rational people if their seemingly endless devotion was toned down. One moment comes when Sebastian imagines a reflection of Jesus in the water; he laughs hysterically, believing his own struggle to be a parallel of Jesus’s own hardship at the hands of the Romans. Similarly, Francisco finds himself at a horrid position; on a beach, the Japanese are drowning villagers for practicing Christianity while he watches. Like a shepherd to his flock, he charges into the water, vainly trying to save them, only to drown himself in the process. Both times religion is seen to have an almost brainwashing effect on the people who believe it and the film has an immensely grim futility to it as the priests are made to suffer. As I mentioned, the Japanese attempt to sway through words but turn to unspeakable acts to make their point. When looking at it from their perspective, have they exhausted all other options to show people their way? They commit barbaric acts, yet appear civilized when discussing their viewpoint. It’s a breakdown of the good-evil archetypes and holds a greyer area close to its chest while perhaps viewing religion with an almost disdainful gaze.

Whichever way you choose to look at it, Silence is an incredibly difficult, yet engrossing work of art to come to grips with. If my review is any indication, I can’t recommend it enough, particularly for those who are fans of meticulous, challenging cinema. Go and see it and make your own judgements.

(Images used for the purposes of review and criticism under fair use)