2 of 2

If there is any misstep in the film, it is the relentless niceness of its Reformer. Throughout we see Luther filling the void left by the old, corrupted symbols of late medieval Catholicism with the simple "Jesus loves me" theology of a mainstream Sunday school class.

The filmmakers have hardly gotten young Martin out of his early years as a psychologically tortured monk, convinced God is out to get him, when they remake him as a mild '90s Luther. His confessor Staupitz (Bruno Ganz) is reduced to blustering: "In all the time I've known you, you've never once confessed anything even remotely interesting!"

As a student at Wittenberg, Luther insists on giving a teen suicide a Christian burial—theological niceties be damned. Interpreting the story of the Prodigal Son to children in the woods, he stresses the father's surpassing love. In the tower at Wartburg, he interprets a Greek term as expressing that same love.

All of this is fair enough, though the theme does become wearing. In one impassioned sermon, Luther takes aim at the villain Tetzel, who emotionally blackmails his audiences by unfurling crude paintings of hell and then offering to help them buy their relatives' way out of eternal agony. Tetzel's problem, Luther insists, is that his God is too mean.

"I, too, saw God as sentencing sinners to death in hell," Luther preaches. "But I was wrong."

Oops. In a major film for a diverse viewing public that sees nothing but an oppressive, hypocritical church, this '90s approach may indeed serve the producers' religious motives. But God's sovereignty seems to have receded a little too much here. And one wonders, if this was really all the Reformation was about, why would anyone have objected? Why didn't all the Catholics just get on board, singing Kumbaya?

Finally, though, the film does tell us as much as it probably can: the Church had been corrupted in many ways. It had strayed from the Bible—its best and truest authority. And the road back was a rough one.

What it loses in theological subtlety it gains back in artistry. This is a dramatically gripping and visually stunning movie. More, it is warmly personal: Sir Peter Ustinov comes near to stealing the show as Luther's wise, wry prince-protector, Frederick; Staupitz is another Catholic "good guy" whose concern for his spiritual son lights up the screen. The film is—as much as can be expected—historically even-handed.

Luther matches grandeur of vision to excellence of execution. The resulting drama packs spiritual as well as entertainment power: it charged the atmosphere even of the small screening room where I first saw the film. I will be seeing it again.

Chris Armstrong is managing editor of Christian History magazine.

Copyright © 2003 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.

More information about the film, including its trailer, is available at its official web site.

Lutheran theologian and journalist Uwe Siemon-Netto has reviewed the film for The Lutheran Witness and for UPI.

Concordia Publishing House has a tie-in book.

Review roundups of Luther are available at Rotten Tomatoes and Metacritic. Christianity Today's weekly Film Forum feature will summarize reviews from the religious press and mainstream critics next Thursday.

Christian Reader, a Christianity Today sister publication, earlier offered a quick summary of Luther's defining moment. Christianity Today's Christian History Corner asked if the reformer really ever said, "Here I stand."

Christian History magazine devoted two issues to Martin Luther, one on his early years (including his posting of the 95 Theses) and another on his later years (including his marriage and writing "A Mighty Fortress.") Sadly, neither issue is available online, and the latter is out of print.

first page |  2 of 2

share this page

September (Web-only) 2003, Vol. 47