Hollywood Under Siege: Martin Scorsese, The Religious Right, and the Culture Wars

by Pamela Grace

For those of us who thought we were relatively familiar with the brouhaha over the production and 1988 release of The Last Temptation of Christ, Thomas R. Lindlof’s Hollywood Under Siege: Martin Scorsese, the Religious Right, and the Culture Wars is a revelation. Lindlof’s meticulously researched page-turner, which draws from interviews with nearly eighty significant figures involved in the controversy, provides a wealth of detail about Universal’s massive effort to bring the film to the screen without bloodshed and the Christian right’s highly organized attempts to suppress, or even burn, the picture.

Lindlof takes us all the way from the conception of Nikos Kazantzakis’s 1951 eponymous novel written as a devotional exploration of Christ’s possible hesitation on his way to the cross and then placed on the Vatican’s Index of Forbidden Books to the film’s domestic and international release. Although Sidney Lumet (The Pawnbroker, 12 Angry Men) attempted to adapt the novel for the screen in 1971, this accomplished director could not pull together a screenplay or find a studio willing to take on the project. Later the same year, actress Barbara Hershey gave the novel to Martin Scorsese, who had once planned to become a priest and still had a strong interest in religious themes. The young director was interested in pursuing more straightforwardly the religious ideas that pervaded his other films sin, forgiveness, and redemption and was eager to make Jesus accessible to modern film viewers. Scorsese’s collaboration with Paramount in the early 1980s was famously disastrous. The project quickly ran into budgetary problems, but it was the protests of the recently organized religious right that ultimately killed the film before it was even made.

Willem Dafoe crucified in Martin Scorsese's The Last Temptation of Christ

Donald Wildmon, founder of the National Federation of Decency (NFD), which had formed alliances with several large conservative religious groups, launched his campaign against Last Temptation in 1983 with an article in his journal the NFD Informer: “Film to Have Jesus Fighting against Being Accepted as the Messiah.” The article ended with a list of the products made by Paramount’s parent company, Gulf & Western, and provided the address of the company’s president, for those who “care to write.” At about the same time, independent of Wildmon, several evangelical nuns with large mailing lists also began organizing protests. Soon churches were circulating petitions, and the mail reached over five thousand pieces a day. The highly publicized protests led United Artists, which owned 3,200 screens, to reject the film and raised the possibility that the studio could be left with an expensive picture that virtually no one would screen. Concerned and conflicted, Paramount’s Barry Diller, Michael Eisner, and Jeffrey Katzenberg soldiered on until Gulf & Western chairman Martin Davis abruptly cancelled the project just as principal photography was about to begin. Scorsese was devastated; Diller, Eisner and Katzenberg left Paramount a few months later; and Wildmon boasted that the NFD had brought down the film. The Paramount-Last Temptation ordeal ended with a newly confident, highly activist Christian right, a more cautious Hollywood, and a culture war that had become more structured, focused, and intense.

Scorsese never gave up on the idea of making Last Temptation, even when his future as a filmmaker was in question. Finally, in 1987, in his words, “everything changed.” This time a confluence of events worked in Scorsese’s favor. The innovative agent Michael Ovitz, founder of Creative Artists Agency (CAA) and a specialist in “packaging” deals for leading authors and actors, had become one of the most powerful people in Hollywood. In October 1986, Ovitz’s long-time colleague, Tom Pollock, a leading Hollywood lawyer, who had developed new financing strategies for the film industry, became the chair of MCA Motion Picture Group, whose flagship label was Universal. (The parent company was MCA, chaired by Lew Wasserman.) Ovitz won Scorsese as a client and then went to Pollock and worked out a contract for Last Temptation. A fortunate coincidence made it possible for Universal to take on a project that exhibitors had once shunned. The previous year, taking advantage of the Reagan Justice Department’s loosening of the laws against vertical integration of movie producers and exhibitors, MCA had bought close to fifty percent of Cineplex Odeon Corporation, a theater chain that owned forty to sixty percent of the exhibition space in several major cities. Pollock pushed this advantage even further. He convinced Cineplex Odeon to become a fifty percent equity partner in Last Temptation.

Scorsese went through a grueling shoot in Morocco, and then came back to face an even greater challenge. By the late 1980s, the Christian right had developed a huge constituency and over a thousand radio stations. It had also been burned by recent sex scandals and was eager to take on a unifying cause. Last Temptation seemed to invite opposition from evangelicals; and their massive campaign required an unprecedented studio response. Lindlof’s description of Universal’s “dual-track public relations strategy” is one of the most interesting elements of the book.

Rev. Donald Wildmon, whose group spearheaded the protests against Last Temptation

The first half of the double approach involved hiring a well-connected born-again Christian to allay the fears of evangelicals by assuring them that the film would not defame Jesus. Tim Penland had found a niche in Hollywood expanding the industry’s base with the country’s eighty million self-identified evangelicals and was known for only taking on films that met his moral code. When principal photography was finished, Universal called Penland about Last Temptation, assuring him that it was a “faith-affirming” film. Penland apparently flattered by the idea of working with Universal and Scorsese and very excited about building bridges between Hollywood and evangelicals signed on without reading the script. As footage became available, Universal promised Penland a chance to see parts of the film, but repeatedly delayed. Meanwhile, Penland convinced Billy Graham, Jerry Falwell, James Dobson, Donald Wildmon and other major leaders of the Christian right to hold back attacks until they saw the picture. He promised his colleagues that he would leave Universal if the film proved to be offensive to Christians. Finally, Universal gave Penland the completed script. Taken aback by scenes such as Jesus making crosses for the Romans and visiting Mary Magdalene’s brothel, Penland felt betrayed, eventually left his consultancy, and joined the opposition.

The person hired for the other half of Universal’s dual-track campaign was Josh Baran, who ran a public relations firm that counseled progressive clients such as People for the American Way and the ACLU. Earlier in his life, Baran had spent ten years in a Zen Buddhist monastery and, upon leaving, had set up an organization that counseled thousands of people who had broken away from various religious sects and cults. Unlike Penland, Baran immediately realized that Last Temptation would be “the most controversial film ever released by any studio in the history of the movie business.” Baran made the rounds of news organizations and visited people such as Paul Moore, the outspoken left-wing Episcopal bishop of New York; and Daniel Berrigan, the well-known leftist Jesuit. Most importantly, Baran insisted that the studio must position the film as a First Amendment issue. He hired a writer to review the historical sweep of humanity’s march toward freedom of expression and to situate Last Temptation as part of that history. The studio, at first, thought Baran’s concerns were exaggerated.

Even though the general outline of the rest of the story is widely known, Lindlof’s account is gripping because of the number of unpublished details he describes. After being stalled for months by Penland, the Christian right was ready to burst into action. Donald Wildmon sent out 2,500,000 “action packets” exhorting Christians to stand up for Christ and against the movie. Several influential organizations such as Campus Crusade for Christ and Focus on the Family joined forces for a series of “preemptive strikes” against Universal and MCA. The ensuing battle involved demonstrations, letters, phone calls, and death threats. Protesters seemed to have inside knowledge of where secret screenings would occur, and it was discovered that the source was the son of a Universal executive. The most surprising event occurred after Bill Bright, the head of Campus Crusade for Christ, prayed for guidance and felt he received an answer from God: Buy the film. He planned a fundraising campaign, offered Universal ten million dollars, and hoped to have a celebration where he and his colleagues would burn the picture. Universal was taken aback by the offer, but then realized it was an opportunity to reclaim the “moral high ground.” The studio sent a letter to Bright and published copies in Variety, The Hollywood Reporter, The New York Times, and several other papers. The letter referred to American freedom of religion and speech, and ended with the words: “These freedoms protect all of us. They are precious. They are not for sale.” Universal’s defense of artistic freedom gave the studio a new image: that of a staunch civil libertarian.

            The battle grew uglier and more dangerous as the day of the film’s release drew closer. The Reverend R. J. Hymers, Jr. interjected anti-Semitism into the debate by producing picket-line banners reading, “Wasserman Fans Hatred toward the Jews with ‘Temptation’ Movie.’” Hymers explained his thinking: “These Jewish producers with a lot of money are taking a swipe at our religion. Of course, it’s going to cause a backlash.” The Reverend’s next move was a mock passion play in front of Wasserman’s house: a long-haired, white-robed young man spattered with fake blood carried a large cross as a “Wasserman” figure planted his foot on the back of the “savior,” posing for the cameras. Many fundamentalists were disturbed by Hymers’ anti-Semitism, but others, such as Jerry Falwell, picked up the theme. As matters worsened and death threats increased, Universal installed guards on every floor of the studio and put in bulletproof glass near the reception desk. Some Universal executives received bloody pigs and voodoo dolls at their homes, and the FBI warned that the white supremacist group Aryan Nations had targeted Wasserman and others for assassination. Expressions of outrage about the film also came from as far away as Calcutta from Mother Teresa and from within the U.S. government, when three Republicans cosponsored a “sense of congress” resolution calling for Universal to withdraw the picture and for citizens not to patronize businesses associated with the studio. Theatrical screenings in the United States were accompanied by bomb threats, demonstrations, a slashed screen and stolen print, weapon-carrying moviegoers, and at one venue an appearance of the Lookout Mountain Knights of the Ku Klux Klan. Universal spent over a million dollars on security, reducing the film’s already minuscule domestic profit.

The right wing faithful mistook Scorsese's film for Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ (Jim Caviziel in the title role)

            International screenings were also filled with drama. In France, screens were torn, theaters were ransacked, stink bombs were released, and one movie house was consumed by a fire that sent several people to hospitals. Mexico was the last country to allow Last Temptation into theaters. The film opened in March 2004, a week before Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ, a film championed by many Christian conservatives. Lindlof dryly cites Variety’s report that screenings were packed on opening night: many viewers seemed to have confused Last Temptation with Gibson’s film.

            Lindlof reports that as leaders of the Christian right looked back, most admitted that the boycott was a failure and that the anti-Semitic outbursts, the offer to buy the film, and the threats of violence were mistakes that reflected badly on Christians. On the other hand, they were pleased with the level of participation and the widespread public dialog about the divinity of Christ. Universal regretted the strain on its relationships with exhibitors and the religious community, but took pride in its strong defense of Scorsese and the film. Lindlof’s epilogue places the Last Temptation episode in the context of the culture wars. The film was a major factor in launching and defining the battle lines in a national, and eventually international, conflict between people advocating traditional religious values and those who favor a society based on modern, scientific thinking. Lindlof comments that “the Last Temptation crisis ike most controversies occurred at a seam in the transition from one ideological regime to another. The late 1980s was one of those historical moments of gathered tension. And this made the struggle over the film as much a political battle as a religious one.” The culture wars expanded, focusing on works such as Salman Rushdie’s The Satanic Verses, Andres Serrano’s sculpture “Piss Christ,” and Robert Mapplethorpe’s homoerotic photographs, and eventually merging with conflicts over issues such as abortion, stem cell research, and creationism. Even with this enormous expansion of the battle front, many religious conservatives continue to see Hollywood as leading the vendetta against people of faith.

            Last Temptation had a temporary chilling effect on the film industry, but ironically the tempest over the film had a different long-term result. Fundamentalist leaders concluded that some “offensive” movies could best be dealt with as teaching and conversion opportunities. After the release of Ron Howard’s 2006 The Da Vinci Code (a fictional film about a Vatican conspiracy to cover up Jesus’ marriage to Mary Magdalene) churches across the country began organizing discussion groups rather than demonstrations. And, for better or worse, the industry also began a rapprochement, writing Christian characters into movies and incorporating religious themes.

            Lindlof’s account of the Last Temptation uproar is fascinating and insightful. It also provides an alternative to a story already told from the perspective of the religious right in Larry Poland’s book The Last Temptation of Hollywood.

Pamela Grace teaches Film Studies at Brooklyn College, CUNY, and is the author of The Religious Film, due this spring from Wiley-Blackwell.

To buy Hollywood Under Siege, click here

Cineaste,Vol.XXXIV No.2 2009

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