JESUS CAMP
Directed by: Heidi Ewing & Rachel
Grady
Internet
Movie
Database Entry for full details
GRADE: B+ (3.0/4)
2006.
Onward, Christian soldiers,
marching as to war! Of course the secular liberal
establishment won’t allow children to actually take up
arms, so while their daddies are off attending to America’s
Holy Wars, they’re home with mommy training for the equally
important culture wars. As Ashley, a young girl who is the
co-focus of the film, puts it, “we’re being trained
to be warriors, but in a much funner way,” which asks the
question, are there no grammar books for home schoolers?
Ewing and Grady document several months in the lives of Ashley and an
older boy named Levi, both the children of dyed in the wool Evangelical
Christians, from their
homes to a Christian-themed sleepaway camp, and then on a cross-country
excursion with stops in Colorado Springs—Evangelical capital
of the USA—and Washington D.C., for a quaint Right to Life
mini-rally. Though the filmmakers treat their subjects
respectfully, even lovingly at times, when it comes to this brand of Evangelists
and their practice of conditioning children they’re clearly,
tendentiously opposed. While the Christians do get the better part of the screen
time, by offering the audience the absurdity they spew simply serves to
disparage their arguments, which teaches the audience a valuable lesson: one needn't argue with a
fundamentalist to get them to lose face. Just let them speak.
Pastor Becky, the central clergy figure in the film, intones that her
models for getting the kids to Christ are the radical Islamic schools
in Palestine, almost as good a role model for kids as Hollywood
celebrities. When a Holy Joe gets a wildly raucous response to
his question of
whether or not the children are ready to give their lives not to Jesus but for him,
it’s clear these fundamentalists’ model for indoctrination is not merely radical
Islam but radical Islamism. The children usually sound as
though they are merely parroting their parents and preachers when they
espouse reverent polemics on Christ, America, and their relation to one
another to the point that it’s made perfectly clear what all of this is, especially when a preacher
asks, “who thinks God can do anything?” and a
mother physically raises her two children’s hands for them. This is brainwashing.
But you can't blame the kids, regardless of their youth and impressionability. For example, Levi professes
that he was “saved” at the age of five, at a time at which
he felt that nothing was fun. Well, if I were from Mullettown,
Missouri, I’d want to go to Jesus Camp, too—they
have rock music, dancing, and clapping. (When megapastor Ted
Haggard, the discredited and disgraced male prostitute solicitor and
illegal substance procurer, shows up in the film for an extended cameo,
you get a good idea of just how fun Evangelical Christianity can
be.) The only other choice seems to be the film's sole
countervoice to the radical Christians, radio host Mike Papantonio.
Well whoop de
doo. If I could only choose between Air America and
Fundamentalism, I’d take the latter, too. At least
they go bowling.
Using interesting shot composition, ironic counterpoint, and pointed
sincerity, Ewing and Grady produce an alluring glimpse into an American
subculture quickly, and frighteningly, losing its prefix. As
a deeper look into Borat’s America, there are some real
hilarious moments, such as when Pastor Becky, a lardaceous old bag who
has the nerve to call mainstream Christians “fat", prays for the PowerPoint presentations to have the
strength to project, or when she bitterly howls, “if it were
the Old Testament, Harry Potter would be put to
death!” Mostly, however, the movie’s just
creepy, and it’s hard not to let it rile you up.
(Just when I thought, “at least they’re not
speaking in tongues,” they actually started to!)
Boys goofing around before bed are chastised because their horseplay
isn’t holy, and at one point the kids are brought to
devastating tears from the shame of having sinned. Oh, Mr.
Bunker, not only is girls not girls and men not men no more, kids
ain’t even kids!
--
Henry Stewart
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