The mystery of faith looms large over the proceedings of Rian Johnson’s latest Benoit Blanc mystery film, “Wake Up Dead Man.” The most thematically rich of the three films produced thus far, alongside “Knives Out” and “Glass Onion,” “Dead Man” finds Daniel Craig’s Blanc working to solve the Good Friday murder of a fire and brimstone spewing Father Wicks (Josh Brolin), who lords over a calcifying Catholic Church in New England, stabbed to death while standing alone in a closet. Witnessed by six of Wick’s most radical acolytes, the humanist second in command of the church, Father Judd (Josh O’Connor), is in short order the prime suspect. Desperate and alone, Father Judd falls to his knees in his church, begging God for help. On cue, the church doors swing open, and so enters his southern fried salvation. Benoit Blanc, Daniel Craig’s mellifluous, dandy detective, believes in Father Judd’s innocence and begins his work to understand the spiraling psalm of a hate-spewing priest, now dead, and the thorny band of wolves in his congregation, now suspects. Twists and turns commence, leading the self-appointed heretic Blanc to face down that which his own rational mind cannot fathom, the mystery of faith laid out bare and eternized upon a slab for dissection, while the doubtful, earnest Father Judd is forced to unearth the value of religion in the face of unyielding human pestilence.
The whodunit aspect of the film lays itself out with all the humor and intrigue that we’ve come to expect from a “Johnson Mystery” joint. Yet, along with a murderer’s row of iconic character actors and movie stars to fill out the suspect list, what set these films apart has always been the gooey human center at their core. While Johnson has always loved to pull liberally from references that range from Christie to Columbo, it is his introspection into something meatier, something distinctly human, that makes for a story much more profound than a simple mystery of the week. While “Knives Out” dealt with race in America and “Glass Onion” tackled the impervious nature of the uber-rich, “Dead Man” steeps itself in the corruptive power of blind faith and how religion, at its core, is simply a story and all the more powerful for it. During their first meeting inside the stone walls of the church, Father Judd and Blanc fall into a friendly debate regarding the value of religion. Blanc, a rationalist gay man born of a deeply religious mother, sees the artifice for what it is: a corruption of the divine by the wickedness of the human. Father Judd, smiling patiently, agrees, saying that storytelling is the basis for his own belief in what God’s acceptance can do for a world ripping itself to pieces; a perspective in diametric opposition to that of the deceased Father Wicks, who used his pulpit to punch and spew bile. While faith, and its deceptive power when used for ill means, is central to the actual plot, it is this character debate that powers the story to its sublime conclusion. Human frailty is the greatest power and ultimate undoing of Johnson’s mystery muses in each of these films, a characteristic he wisely transmutes into the metaphysical and political debate at the heart of “Dead Man”, as to the nature of faith abused and the enduring power of grace given freely.
O’Connor’s Father Judd, a disgraced boxer who found hope in the forgiving embrace of Christ, is an idealist, a good-hearted humanitarian who takes it upon himself to cure the world of malice and those who selfishly bastardize the Bible’s message for their own personal or political gain, i.e., Father Wicks and his flock. But what power can a good man have in the face of fanaticism? What value does religion hold beyond the manipulation of dogma? The best scene in “Dead Man” speaks to this precise conundrum. While on the hunt for a clue that could rip the case wide open, Father Judd becomes entangled in a phone call with the owner of a local construction company who doesn’t seem to understand the severity of his request for information. After getting frustrated with her obtuseness, he is about to hang up and return to Blanc when the woman asks if he has a moment to help her with something. Annoyed but conceding, Father Judd asks how he can help. The woman, haltingly and with great difficulty, asks if he would pray for her. You see, her mother is in hospice, and her condition has made it so that the last time they spoke was contentious. She fears that she will never speak to her mother again and asks nothing from Father Judd but to be remembered in his prayers. Father Judd, in a thunderous close-up that holds on Josh O’Connor’s face as the thrill of the hunt becomes the solemnity of his station, calms and listens and asks the woman her mother’s name as if she were the center of his entire universe; all while Blanc anxiously waits for the call to end and the game to be afoot once again. But Father Judd does not end the call; instead, he quietly shuts the door, cutting himself off from Blanc, and continues his conversation with the woman, offering her the comfort she seeks by listening and caring for her as long as she needs. This scene, so simple and quiet, might be my favorite scene from a movie this year; an earnest act of kindness in the midst of schemes and bloody murder, a representation of what religion can represent when hatred and judgment are shoved aside.
I’ve seen the film twice and cried through the phone scene both times. That’s not something I’m used to experiencing during a murder mystery movie, but it is surely something I expect when Rian Johnson is operating at his best. Johnson accurately pinpoints that at the center of the Venn diagram of humanism and Christianity is love for those we do not know or even for those who would not offer it in return. For many of us who have grown in and away from the church over the years, Catholic and Protestant alike, this concept perhaps gets at the core truth we have always known about religion, which institutions have co-opted for their own gain. What “Dead Man” posits, a sentiment that spoke quite deeply to me, is that perhaps religion is at its core purpose a delivery method for the deepest of human truths, of community and grace and understanding. The mystery of faith may not be a mystery at all. Maybe it is as simple as being asked by a stranger to “pray for me” and taking the time to listen.
“Dead Man” might not be Johnson’s best movie; that’s a question worthy of spirited debate, but I think it is the finest of the already exemplary “Blanc” films so far, a deft mystery with a smoldering heart at its center that has left me pondering what the value of religion in a world on fire might actually be. I have no answers, just many questions, and perhaps that’s the point.
Embrace the mystery.
You’ll be glad you did.
“Wake Up Dead Man” is playing at The Broad Theater and Prytania Theatres at Canal Place.
