Des hommes et des dieux

This film appealed to me in several ways. I liked the direct, intimate approach in the way it was filmed. It was very refreshing to see hymns used as a big part of the soundtrack, very different as to what you usually hear :)

In the cinema where i was watching the film, the average age must have been a lot higher than usual, and a few seats away, someone was even quietly singing along with some of the hymns, very bizarre feeling in a cinema!!

I liked the fact that they treated the subject of faith and the possibility of coexistence of Christianity and Islam, as well as the differences, in a very simple, every-day-life-way.

What was new to me was the visualization of fraternity. This aspect was a big thing throughout the whole movie. It is one of the things i least understood about priests and monks until now. It was amazing to see this feeling i have never personally experienced come alive on the screen and sort of being able to feel it myself.

I also liked that they used 'real' people and not pretty Hollywood types, but i suppose that is normal in a production like this.

I liked that a lot was left unspoken, unexplained and open for various interpretations.

The scenes i liked best was the one where: *the abbot was at a lake to find inspiration for his tough decision. *the 'last supper' with the close-ups of the monks' faces and the ballet music *the terrorist and the abbot talk about the birth of Jesus *the ending (usually i don't like abrupt and vague endings like these, but in this film it was bearable and befitting, because in real life it is also still unknown what exactly has happened).

The plot of this film can be summarised as: Christian monks live peacefully in Muslim country, political situation changes, monks have to decide whether to leave or to stay. Boring, you may say, nothing happens, you may say and, in one sense you'd be right. But..... The point about this film is not the plot. What this film acknowledges is that the real drama of human existence is internal, the real action in our lives takes place inside of us and the real journeys that we make are in our minds and our souls. This is a film about relationships, between different communities, between individual members of the same community, between individuals and God and between individuals and themselves. This is a film about identity and place - two things we all have in common, like it or not. Personally, I found the religious aspect of the film intriguing. We live in a world in which religion is, again, being used to justify momentous acts. An analysis of how that works and what it means has to be relevant. But even if you are not interested by this, or are, as I know many people are, turned off by the mention of the words "religion" or "God" what the film does is to allow it's audience to begin to look behind these literal concepts at how the spiritual (whatever that might mean to you) functions in our daily lives. So, 9/10. 10/10 is very tempting but the film is not perfect. It would probably be boring if it was and a very definite recommendation. Oh, and by the way, it has some beautiful scenery, some stunning and innovative cinematography and some crackingly good looking men.

In 1996, in Algeria, eight French monks of The Monastery Notre-Dame de l'Atlas of Tibhirine have a simple life serving the poor community that was raised around the monastery. During the Algerian Civil War, they are threatened by terrorist but they decide to stay in the country and not return to France.

One night, the extremists break in the monastery and abduct seven monks. A couple of months later, they are found dead in controversial circumstances.

"Des hommes et des dieux" is a film based on a true story and supported by top-notch performances. The official and non-official versions of the death of the Tibhirine priests can be found in Internet. My vote is seven.

Title (Brazil): "Homens e Deuses" ("Men and Gods")

As Vivekananda has said, "The intensest love that humanity has ever known has come from religion, and the most diabolical hatred that humanity has known has come from religion." Both of these elements are present in Xavier Beauvois Of Gods and Men, the story of seven Roman Catholic French Trappist monks kidnapped by radical Islamists from their monastery in the village of Tibhirine in Algeria during the 1990s Algerian Civil War. The film depicts the sacrifices people of good will in both religions are willing to make for each other, and that the separation between religions is not an unbridgeable gap.

Winner of the Grand Prix at the 2010 Cannes Film Festival, Of Gods and Men stars Lambert Wilson as Christian, Prior of the monks, and 79-year-old Michael Lonsdale as a world weary medic who treats up to 150 Moslem villagers each day. The film derives its title from the Book of Psalms, Psalm 82:6-7 quoted at the beginning of the film: "I have said, Ye are gods; and all of you are children of the most High. But ye shall die like men, and fall like one of the princes." Filmed in Morocco, the film shows the daily life of the Trappist monks before the terrorist threat becomes real.

Though a large part of their day consists of contemplation and devotion, living in close contact with the Muslim population allows them to interact with them in a positive way, healing the sick, selling honey in the nearby markets, and caring for the aged. In addition, daily chores such as cooking, gardening, loading wood for the fireplace, and cleaning take up a large part of the day. Soon word gets around about the murder of European workers on a construction site by the terrorists and the monks recoil in horror when they learn about the stabbing of a woman riding on a bus by Islamic fundamentalists simply because she was not wearing a veil.

The Algerian government asks the monks to leave for their own safety but Christian tells them that their calling is to serve the people of the community and he insists on remaining, though he is willing to let the other monks decide. The issue becomes suddenly more immediate when a group of fundamentalists show up at the monastery on Christmas Eve demanding medicine for their wounded colleagues. Though the request is refused, Christian quotes the Koran to their spokesman Ali Fayattia (Farid Larbi) and they end up shaking hands, though the Prior senses rightly that they will be back.

When all agree that they will not abandon the monastery even at the risk of death, the dramatic high point of the film is reached when the monks recreate the Last Supper by sitting around a small table drinking wine and listening to a recording of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake ballet. As the camera pans from face to face, we can observe a beatific smile on some faces and tears on others, demonstrating an inner poetry and reverence for life. The monks are not Christian moralists but spiritualists confronting the extremes of the human condition, characters who point the way to overcoming despair.

The monks, like the Curé de Torcy in Bernanos' Diary of a Country Priest, love poverty "with a deep, reasoned, lucid love as equal loves equal", expressing the eternal struggle of the spirit to know Christ and to come to terms with his anguish. The heroes of the film are not saints. They are flesh and blood human beings, full of ambiguity and fear, but never far from compassion and humility, willing to offer us the possibility of a world transformed by grace.

Chris Morris's debut Four Lions (2010) found fame in it's irreverent portrayal of Islamic fundamentalism in Yorkshire: the headlines that accompanied Brass Eye (1997-2001) successfully carried on into a low-key marketing campaign in that debut feature. Beauvois' film isn't so much a farcical account of the spiralling contradictions of religious extremism. But it does share its preoccupation with exactly how far one, or rather a small community, can go to devote themselves to their beliefs.

The film is located in the 1996 Algerian Civil War, and tells the true story of a monastery under threat from the Armed Islamic Group of Algeria (GIA). Dom. Christian (Lambert Wilson) takes it upon himself to express their intentions to ignore the threats, and continue their mission of goodwill. This is disputed by the group throughout, whose dilemma forces some of them to question their allegiance to God, and jeopardise their own health (as with the outstanding Michael Lonsdale's, Luc). Coping with the sacrifices involved in such an all-consuming faith is key to the themes here ("We're not here for martyrdom" reminds Christian), and it's difficult to recall a more delicate, understated study. An excellent example of Beauvois' achievement, both visually and performance-wise, is the kiss Luc places on the mural of Christ. Moments like this underline the dependency they all share on one thing alone: their religion. It looms over them, both haunting and cradling them throughout, like the vast, unspoiled skylines which constantly diminish them beneath - Caroline Champetier's cinematography is key to the affect created.

Tranquil moments like Luc's, where the viewer is allowed in such close, personal space, are almost unsettling in the access that's granted. The beauty achieved in these meditative scenes is all the more striking as we're reminded that these men are nearing the end of their lives. Death is always present – from direct representation (as with the brutal throat-slitting of the Croat workers) to the indirect (the technique of cutting from the most tranquil scene to the loudest, most destructive scene).

The film is an anti-thriller in its treatment of fear and terror - the key moment occurs before the half-way point, and the viewer is left fearing for a reprisal for the duration. Beauvois' alternative narrative, featuring a fairly clear split down the middle, also featured in his previous Don't Forget You're Going to Die (1995) and To Mathieu (2000). Similarly, more recently, Mia Hansen-Love's Father of My Children (2010) involved a number of characters picking up the pieces in the wake of death. French colonialism in Algeria is only once directly attacked, when the police chief demands they leave. However, when viewed in a similar light to, say, Hidden (Cache, Michael Haneke, 2005), the occupation these men choose, the service they provided, the sacrifice they made, could too, easily be forgotten. So while the terrorism fears, today shared globally, are a focal point, a narrative of this kind reminds one not to forget the horrors of the past.

Of Gods and Men is testament to a thriving New French Cinema. Thought-provoking, rich in content both (formally and thematically), it's difficult to find fault with a film that so meticulously justifies its choices: the landscape is artwork, the tone is perfect, and the performances are achingly affective throughout.