Bowing to 'Dogma'

By STEVE PERSALL Times Film Critic

© St. Petersburg Times, published November 12, 1999

The writer/director of this film isn't the Antichrist; he's merely anti-hypocrisy. Look beyond the gutterspeak and exaggerations, and Dogma is a well-researched religious lesson.

Kevin Smith is a blasphemer and darned proud of it. That doesn't mean the filmmaker is a heretic, no matter what anyone says about his new comedy, Dogma, before they see it.

Dogma has inflamed devout Catholics for months, based on the plot outline alone. The idea of Smith's twisting biblical lore into a modern, profane catechism lesson had rosaries tied in knots. Somehow it's easier to accept Charlton Heston shilling pious videotapes than a dude from New Jersey pointedly questioning what has been done to the gospel for our own earthly purposes.

Smith is a relentless inquisitor. Dogma begins with a hilarious cover-your-tail disclaimer for timid moviegoers, then never looks back to see who has given up in disgust. When the first person you see in a movie is George Carlin, playing a cardinal who is introducing a PR campaign dubbed "Catholicism Wow!" with a thumbs-up Jesus statue, you know Smith won't back down. Yet the sharpest satire in his densely outrageous script is reserved for such organized follies, not the faith they exploit.

'Dogma' causes some Catholic consternation Funny, but Kevin Smith doesn't sound like an atheist while discussing his new film, Dogma, and the commotion it has caused among some Christians.

The scene shifts to an airport, where Loki (Matt Damon) is deconstructing Alice in Wonderland for a nun, double-talking Lewis Carroll's fantasy into an atheist manifesto. The good sister is convinced, and dispatched to revel in sin. But Loki is an angel -- more accurately, God's angel of death -- and didn't believe a word he was saying. "I just like to keep the clergy on its toes," he tells his partner, Bartleby (Ben Affleck).

Bartleby is amused but can't wait to tell Loki that their expulsion from heaven to the hell of Wisconsin may be ending. Catholicism Wow! includes a blanket pardon for all sinners, meaning they re-enter heaven by attending the cardinal's church in New Jersey. On the road, Loki can clean up a little business. That angel-of-death role is habit-forming, and there are plenty of transgressors, including a kiddie-show golden calf named Mooby who closely resembles a certain famous mouse.

If Loki and Bartleby succeed, all existence will cease because God is supposed to be infallible, and this cosmic loophole will prove otherwise. The only person who can stop them is Bethany (Linda Fiorentino), an abortion clinic worker and descendant of Christ. She doesn't know her birthright until Metatron, the dry-wit voice of God (Alan Rickman), clues her in.

They head for New Jersey, picking up a couple of pothead prophets (Smith and Jason Mewes), a stripper muse (Salma Hayek) and a 13th apostle (Chris Rock) who was hidden from the limelight because he's black. These supernatural forces, plus a devil's advocate (Jason Lee) and his roller-hockey minions, converge in a metaphysical farce brimming with warped insight, juvenile humor, splatter shocks and a deeply sincere spirituality. Smith isn't the Antichrist; he's merely anti-hypocrisy, which is enough to get him branded as the former in some circles.

Dogma Grade: A- Director: Kevin Smith Cast: Matt Damon, Ben Affleck, Linda Fiorentino, Chris Rock, Salma Hayek, Alan Rickman, George Carlin, Jason Lee, Jason Mewes, Kevin Smith, Janeane Garofalo, Alanis Morissette Screenplay: Kevin Smith Rating: R; profanity, violence, sexual situations Running time: 130 min.

Look beyond the gutterspeak, seedy settings and exaggerations, and Dogma is a well-researched religious lesson. Smith's heart is always in the right place, and a perverse reverence shades each scene, even the ones most likely to offend conservative tastes. If you see Dogma expecting to be angered, you will be. But this movie won't undermine the essence of religious belief, because that is precisely what Smith holds high.

As usual, Smith is a more accomplished wordsmith than director. His style is fairly static, with a peculiar inability to make backgrounds seem authentic. Dogma allows Smith a chance to play with a widescreen format, yet he doesn't always fill it well, even by dabbling in special effects. Smith lets the screenplay dictate his pacing, and he loves to write. Dogma could be trimmed by at least 20 minutes, especially a dull sequence starring an excrement demon.

Smith is more adept at profiling actors who can handle his rascally dialogue without blinking. The buddyship between Damon and Affleck, plus their own screenwriting skills, make them the gamest performers in the cast. The possible exception is Rickman, who makes a great netherworld-weary impression. Mewes is a constant scene-stealer with Jay's stoned patter and easily distracted libido. He and Smith (playing Silent Bob) have become cult icons since Clerks, appearing in all four Smith films. Their neo-Abbott and Costello act never gets old.

Dogma gets as preachy as its targets sometimes, but just as often offers something to consider after the show ends. "You people don't celebrate your faith, you mourn it," Bartleby says in a moment of clarity. And you wonder if, as Carlin's cardinal insists: "Jesus wasn't put on earth to give us the willies." Tough, irreverent questions from a theological misfit. Nobody needs to forgive Kevin Smith. He knows exactly what he's doing.