The insatiable moon
Review: Paul Sorrell
It is hard to know where to begin a review of a film whose creators are personal friends and whose progress you have followed for a decade or so, reading the blog, sharing the heartbreak of funding denied, and then basking in the triumph of its final appearance in the New Zealand international film festival last month. Based on the novel of the same name by Mike Riddell, who acted as co-producer and also wrote the screenplay, the film is directed by his wife Rosemary Riddell – a family court judge in her other life. To say this is a film with heart – to use a tired Hollywood cliché – would not do it justice.
Rather, it is a film that excites, entertains and challenges us, cutting right to the heart of the Gospel. The production values are first-rate, the casting inspired, the acting flawless and the cinematography wonderfully inventive. But the truly original contribution of The Insatiable Moon is to lay bare the pathologies at the heart of our endlessly aquisitive society and suggest – in the most imaginative ways you are ever likely to see on-screen – a Christian remedy. The film opens with Arthur, a Maori ex-psychiatric patient living in a halfway house in Ponsonby, using his special magic to make the sun rise. As the self-proclaimed Second Son of God, Arthur’s powers enable him to perform all manner of miracles, but his greatest challenge is to save the house he shares with a number of other men from closure.
For this is the early 1990s and Ponsonby is ripe for gentrification, a process that leaves little room for the poor and the marginalised. Arthur, played to perfection by Rawiri Paratene, is the heart of this remarkable film, despite being surrounded by a large cast of eye-catching characters played by the likes of Ian Mune, Sara Wiseman and Greg Johnson. In Arthur’s words and actions we see an extraordinary interplay between the madman and the visionary, the derelict and the prophet. Battling with a mental illness, his heart is full of love and his words sharp with truth. Watching the stream of rush-hour traffic crawling over the harbour bridge, he says: “Look at all those people hurrying to get where they don’t want to be”. Speaking after one of the festival screenings in Dunedin, Mike mentioned that his original novel had made use of magical realism.
This technique uses fantasy, vision and dream to change the harsh reality of the world – the endemic greed, self-interest and materialism that undermine society and corrode the hearts of individuals – and, if only for a moment, to make our dreams of peace and justice real.
If you only get out to one movie this year, don’t miss this richly imaginative and complex film when it goes on general release at Rialto cinemas in October.
The insatiable moon cont.
Mike Riddell
I see my vocation as that of a storyteller. It’s a tradition as old as humanity. Telling tales is a means of engaging the human imagination in such a way as to stir the heart. It really is that simple. For me, to see the story at the heart of The Insatiable Moon played out on screen is a constant delight. I know it well – for many a year it has lived and spoken within me. But to watch it spring to life in such a visual and accessible way is a wonder that continues to enthral me. Writing a book is to pass on a story in a kind of whisper – from the solitude of the writer to the quiet
engagement of the reader.
Making a film is a communal experience. It draws on the gifts and creativity of scores of people, becoming so much more through their talents. And it finds its truth among an audience. So to sit with a group of people who are responding viscerally to the story they are drawn into is a living and deeply satisfying event. Many years ago, a gentle Maori man named Arthur asked me to share his story with the world. The film marks the closing of a circle. There was a time when being true to my vocation led to castigation from others on The Way.
My journey into Catholicism has provided the healing of that rupture – reconnecting body, spirit, and creativity so that they can live together as intended. I’m particularly indebted to Fr Mark Chamberlain and Fr Michael Hill for this unifying grace. A story has a life of its own. It is born, nurtured, and set free to find its way in the world. The Insatiable Moon is a very small story indeed. But for me, and for our wonderful director Rosemary, it has already begun a stirring. We wait in hope to see where it will end up.
The new roman missal
The new Roman Missal is due to come into use on the first Sunday of Advent this year. In the first of two articles a NZ theologian look at some aspects of the new missal and suggests a way forward Neil Darragh st Catholics know by now that the New Zealand Bishops Con-ference hopes to introduce the new English and Maori translations of the Roman Missal in Advent this year. A programme that prepares people for the new texts is already underway in most parishes. This is mainly a change of some of the language used at Mass. It won’t affect the rest of the Mass very much. The English of the current Mass could surely be improved. It is often old fashioned, a kind of stilted ‘churchy’ language. Most of the time the phrasing doesn’t ‘flow’. There is a good deal of sexist language.
There are some beautiful prayers but most of it is dull rather than inspiring or deeply prayerful. Both the English and Maori languages can be creative, captivating and inspiring. These languages are capable of expressing deep beliefs with clarity and nobility as we know from our experience of literature, film, songs, plays and speeches. I don’t think anyone has ever said this of the English of the Roman Missal we have been using since 1973. So, yes, a new translation is well overdue. The new translation is not really meant to be ‘better’ in the sense that most of us would understand it. We would probably say it was ‘better’ if it was more beautifully crafted or easily understood, if it could lead us to understand deep religious beliefs without the obstructions of archaic language, and if the language helped us to participate better in the liturgy. We might also regard it as better if its language was completely gender-inclusive (it does eliminate some of the sexist language) or less clerical, or if it showed appreciation of God’s creation around us. The new translation however has a different, more ecclesiastical agenda.
The primary requirement is that it be a very close, almost literal, translation of the 2002 official Latin text in its words and its forms of expression. Once that requirement is met, the translators can then do their best to make it intelligible and attractive to us, but the possibilities of doing so are quite limited. So, no, on the whole the new translation is not better than the old one unless we put a high value on Latin as the primary language for religious expression. do the written texts have to be translations from the latin? The texts of the Mass are translations from the Latin because this is a requirement of the Roman Congregation for Divine Worship. It is hard to understand the reasons for this requirement. It seems that some people don’t want to lose treasured forms of traditional prayer and prefer that the contemporary Mass be a kind of living archive of ancient Latin prayers. More likely though is that this requirement is about centralized control of liturgy. After the 16th century Council of Trent, the Roman Missal in Latin was made obligatory for all Masses of the Roman Rite.
After the 20th century Second Vatican Council, Masses in the local languages (in New Zealand that means Maori and English) had to be translations of the new Latin text. We don’t seem to have moved beyond that. The translation requirement does not in any case seem to have anything much to do with deepening prayerfulness, increasing understanding, or enhancing active participation in liturgy for most of us in this part of the world. So the answer to this question is that there is a legal requirement for Mass texts to be translations of the official Latin text, but the justification for this is probably more political than it is liturgical. Most people will find that the changes to the Mass are irritating rather than enormous. A few of these are significant even if small (like the response “And with your spirit”; and word changes here and there in common prayers like the ‘I confess’, the ‘Gloria’ and the profession of faith), but most of the changes and additions occur in what the priest says and probably won’t be noticed by most of the congregation. While the effects may be fairly small, the production of a new Missal is an enormous task. It requires a great deal of time and a great number of “experts”. Publishing and printing is another huge task. It is a juggernaut that will be difficult to stop. The people in power who campaigned for this change against a good deal of opposition won’t give up easily.
So, yes, this is a ‘done deal’. It is this aspect of the situationl above all that is seriously upsetting many faithful Catholics. After several decades of talk about participation both in the liturgy and in ministry, this promulgation of the new Missal appears as the act of a centralized and authoritarian church hierarchy, following an agenda that is difficult for us to understand, and hitting at the heart of people’s sense of belonging – in Sunday Mass. It is unfortunate too that this promulgation should take place just at a time when the hierarchy’s moral authority is at its lowest because of cases of sexual abuse. range of reactions Reactions to the new Missal range from the radical (“this is the last straw from a church hierarchy that treats people with disrespect”), through protest (“we should voice our opposition to this new Missal”), to obedience (“church authorities must have their reasons so let’s just get on with it”).
Is there a way forward?
I will offer a way forward in the second article next issue.
n Neil Darragh is a priest of the Auckland Diocese and a well known theologian and teacher