“The Green Knight” is probably the best movie adaptation that we Christians could dare hope for from the modern world: well-researched, thoughtful, and meditative. Go see the film. Revel in its beauty. But use your Christian understanding to claim what you want from it so you may better serve Christ.

The Green Knight is a spectacular and gorgeously beautiful film. It is probably the best live-action Arthurian film to date. It may very well join the ranks of Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings and Disney’s The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, as a genuinely good live-action fantasy movie that shall be turned to time and again over the years as an example of how to do a movie about knights and magic and monsters right. But it is not a Christian movie.

Perhaps this should not be a surprise in light of the world’s journey to paganistic atheism, but it is a saddening thing, especially when I think of how powerful and truly wonderful this movie could have been if the filmmakers had just retained the Christian element that is so profoundly a part of the original work.

The movie is a work of art, even without the Christian element. Every frame is a Pre-Raphaelite painting, every sound effect crushingly real. I am no cinematographer, but I can say with every confidence that the film was an aural and visual masterpiece from start to finish. I was in love with the world, the costumes, the sets, the vibrancy of the colors, everything. The filmmakers made excellent use of long, lingering shots to make each of the many adventures and scenes in the film feel as if it was given more than enough time to claim its proper place in the movie.

The film follows the original story fairly closely in terms of plot, matching it at many moments beat for beat and only occasionally filling in and embellishing, but never subtracting anything that would detract from the original. This is what puzzles and saddens me the most. The filmmakers clearly did their research, portraying with a shockingly precise acuity the wacky, bizarre, and terrifyingly deadly tone of the world’s magic and its fantastical creatures; relating the primal pagan force of the Green Knight and nature, and the cycle of the seasons and life and death which lies near the center of the story; even having a semi-historically accurate Christian presence in the court of Arthur, with mentions of Mass, the appearance of a bishop blessing a knight with holy water and praying in Latin, and the icon of the Theotokos gilded on the inside of Gawain’s shield, and the five sorrows of Mary and the five wounds of Christ.

As a student of the text, I understood almost every reference to the original, every decision by the filmmakers that related directly to the original text. Which is why I can confidently say that they missed the forest for the trees.

At the center of the story of Gawain and the Green Knight are the themes of time’s cyclical nature through the four seasons of life and death, the power and terror of nature, and the question of paganism in relation to Christianity. The movie addresses these themes with great care, taking extra time in one scene to describe the earthy nature of the Green Knight and asserting that ultimately the Green of nature is not a sign of life, but of decay, fungus, mold and decomposition, ever at war with the Red of the blood and lust of men. This is where the film shows its atheistic, pagan tendencies most. It shuns the Christian answers of the original story in favor of its own. While the poem joyfully concludes with the Christmas miracle of penance and compassion, implying that Christianity is the force that breaks the pagan cycle of life and death by promising everlasting life, the film gleefully concludes that since there is nothing after death, one ought to die sooner rather than later, facing his death with his head held high. “Is that it? Is this all there is?” Gawain asks at the end of the film. “What else would there be?” the Green Knight replies. This is the best the pagan, atheistic world can offer: nothing.

The irony should not be lost on an educated Christian audience: this film shows perfectly the cyclical turn, the regression, of the modern world back into paganism and atheism. The filmmakers can study and pretend to understand Christian works of art, they can even mention Masses and show icons and have priests say lines in Latin to be accurate to the original book, but it is all hollow, meaningless. I was supposed to feel the same watching an icon of the Theotokos be broken in two on screen as a Neo-pagan watching someone wear the Hammer of Thor in a Vikings show. Christianity has become just another prop piece for the modern world.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is at its heart a story about the dichotomy between Christianity and paganism, about how Christianity–through Christ’s compassionate and sacrificial love–has claim to and power over the preexisting pagan forces, primal and powerful though they be, full of life and death in equal measure. The film The Green Knight utterly fails to capture this idea, because its makers fail to comprehend this. But given the modern world, it would be almost unfair to expect them to be able to.

This film presents a wonderful and harrowing journey, as any true knight’s quest or pilgrimage ought to be, full of dark horror and mystic beauty and daring courage in the face of death, and sure to keep audiences on the edge of their seats the whole time. Christians should be warned that it is, however, more than a little raunchy and earthy, and one scene in particular is quite steamy, but it makes sense for the story, and boy what a beautiful story it is, muddled by the moderns though it be.

Indeed, The Green Knight is probably the best movie adaptation that we Christians could dare hope for from the modern world: well-researched, thoughtful, meditative, deliberate, and lingering. Go see the film. Revel in its beauty. But use your Christian understanding to claim what you want from it so you may better serve Christ.

The Green Knight has fallen short of true greatness, but it is a tragically short fall indeed.

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The featured image is courtesy of IMDb.

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