Kevin Smith muses on faith, Catholics and his intent to pop up at the Three Rivers Film Festival.

By Stephen H. Segal

(IN PITTSBURGH)

HE KNEW IT WOULD BE BAD. EVEN SO, Kevin Smith wasn't fully prepared for the vitriol that's been hurled his way in the months since the religious-rights organization the Catholic League became aware of his upcoming movie Dogma.

"All that's vile comes from you," reads one piece of hate mail posted on Smith's Website. "You teach hatred and prejudice. You insult Christians, especially Catholics. How Satanic!... Hitler didn't die, you're still doing his hatreds and works. Are you aware you're un-American?... May God judge your terrible acts."

Whoa. Do the people writing these venomous words know -- or even care -- that the 29-year­old New Jersey-based filmmaker is a practicing, churchgoing Catholic? That he hoped his new comedic fantasy flick -- which features Ben Affleck and Matt Damon as fallen angels on a killing spree, Alanis Morrisette as God and Linda Fiorentino as a mortal descendent of Mary and Joseph -- would spark dialogue and debate about issues of religious faith that usually go unexamined? That he seeks to be subversive in a constructive -- not destructive -- way?

It would seem not. For that matter, the Catholic League's supporters haven't even had the chance to see the soon-to-be-released Dogma, which was filmed in and around Pittsburgh and will be sneak-previewed at the Three Rivers Film Festival on Fri., Nov. 5.

The Catholic League's president, William Donohue, hasn't seen the movie either. That hasn't stopped him from leading a crusade to condemn it as a blasphemous attack on the beliefs of Catholics everywhere.

After six months of being Donohue's target, Smith isn't feeling particularly intimidated -- just tired of the lack of thought he perceives behind all the loud words.

"I saw Bill Donohue on TV when we were showing Dogma at the New York Film Festival," Smith says. "He said, 'I've got a message for Hollywood: Just think of the Catholics as a big bunch of Indians. Would you portray Indians like this?'"

Disbelief creeps into Smith's voice. "That's what blows my mind," he says, "their insistence on Catholics as a minority. Catholics have pretty much run the world for the last 2,000 years. I don't think a Catholic has been really persecuted since the last apostle died. If I were a real minority, I'd be shocked and appalled by [Donohue's] comments. You're a minority? You're a man! You're white!"

He huffs in annoyance. "There's nothing minor about being a white male Catholic."

THREE WEEKS BEFORE DOGMA'S nationwide release, Smith is just glad the press is finally starting to talk about the movie itself, not just the Catholic League's reaction to it.

"We thought we'd get a lot of, 'It's Ben and Matt together again!'" he says wryly. "But that's been eclipsed by, 'Catholics in an uproar -- film at 11.'"

Given what he's encountered simply for making a movie that mixes serious religious discussion with "dick and fart jokes," says Smith, he's not surprised that few commercial filmmakers risk pushing the envelope when it comes to issues of spirituality. It's simply a reflection of society's general mindset.

"I just don't think that many people are interested in talking about religion openly," he says, "because they fear it will make them seem fanatical. I mean, what's the common view of religion in this country? Turn on the TV and you're bombarded with images of war in the Holy Land, war in Ireland, the murder of abortion doctors. This is what people think about religion after they've been confronted by the media: fanaticism rather than faith."

Smith sighs. "Most [religious] people aren't nuts like that. But it seems like it's more appealing to hear about someone who's gone wrong in their faith than someone who's gone right."

Those who condemn Dogma based on what they've heard of it would no doubt argue that Smith himself has gone wrong in his faith -- that no "real" Catholic would ever suggest, even in a cinematic joke, that the Virgin Mary might have enjoyed a normal marital relationship with her husband in the years after the immaculate conception. Or that Jesus might have been black. Or that someday the Church might try to utilize feel-good marketing techniques like replacing the icon of the crucifix with a smiling, thumbs-up "buddy Jesus."

But the whole point of making the movie, says Smith, was to show that a Catholic could ponder these things. "I've come to the conclusion that it's not my politics that makes me a Catholic," he says. "Agreeing or disagreeing with the Pope's stance on abortion doesn't determine whether I'm a Catholic. Neither does my opinion about gays. I'm not what you'd call a dogmatic Catholic -- but I was born Catholic and I'll die Catholic. I like it, and I'm proud of it.

"I mean," he says, warming to the topic, "let's say Catholicism was a car. Well, I bought that car ages ago. I think I'm allowed to kick the tires occasionally."

EVEN WHEN HE'S NOT DWELLING ON Dogma, issues of faith seem to creep into Kevin Smith's life.

Last summer while he was filming in Pittsburgh, the writer/director was also moonlighting as a comic-book scribe, penning eight issues of the Marvel Comics title Daredevil. It's not coincidence that the character of Daredevil -- a blind, socially conscious crimefighter who uses his ultra-enhanced other four senses to protect the underprivileged -- is just about the most overtly Catholic superhero out there. And Smith's storyline revolved around an infant who just might be the second coming of Christ -- or maybe the anti-Christ.

"Working with that character gave me an opportunity to explore some of those themes," he admits, though he says there was no deliberate intent behind his simultaneous involvement with Dogma and Daredevil: "I pretty much worked out my own religious issues a while ago."

Now that he's through with Daredevil -- and Dogma is in the home stretch -- the often over-extended Smith and his View Askew Productions team are enjoying a bit of breathing room. "It's kind of nice," he says, "for the first time in five years we don't have the next project lined up."

Of course, that doesn't include the trip he's planning to make to Pittsburgh for the Dogma screening at the Three Rivers Film Festival. "We made a lot of friends out there," he says. "If we ever do a shoot that's not Jersey-centric, I'd definitely go back to Pittsburgh."

It also doesn't include the one creative project he's already been working on for some months: an animated sitcom version of his first movie, the cult favorite Clerks. Smith has reassembled the main cast from the film -- Brian O'Halloran as Dante, Jeff Anderson as Randal, Jason Mewes as Jay and himself as Silent Bob -- to provide the voices for the cartoon. (Guest-star vocals already lined up include appearances by Gwyneth Paltrow, James Woods and Mario Joyner.)

ABC has picked up an initial batch of six episodes, currently expected to run as a mid-season replacement starting in February. "Hopefully," says Smith, "people will find it as funny as we do."

And if by some chance the show isn't successful, Smith isn't sweating it too much. Because these days he's far more concerned with another, more personal project: his marriage to USA Today journalist Jennifer Schwalbach and their new daughter Harley.

"Suddenly, there are different priorities," he says. "Yes, Dogma's still a priority, but even the film takes back seat to the family. It's nice to have something to go home to at the end of the day that means a lot more than this [Catholic League] nonsense. I get home and see they're oblivious to all that's going on -- and I realize, 'Oh yeah, this is why I'm here in the first place.'"

And despite all the heat he's drawn from the Catholic community over Dogma, Smith hopes his family will be able to keep an open mind toward religion.

"When you're married to someone who's not necessarily as churchgoing as yourself," he says, "you have to think about their feeling on the subject. In light of everything that's gone on in the last few months, my wife is kind of leery of church people. So I'll be trying to explain to her, and get across to my kid when she's old enough, that there's a large difference between church and God, and between going to church and believing in God."

He pauses. "I think," he says, "I want to raise my daughter to believe in the idea that church is good -- but God is better."

ANOTHER APOCALYPTIC APPROACH

In exactly the sort of cosmic coincidence that tends to spring unsuspected upon Kevin Smith's fictional characters, Dogma is not the only movie at the Three Rivers Film Festival this year to present a hip, glib spin on God, the Devil and the apocalypse.

Hal Hartley's 1998 film The Book of Life documents the second coming of Christ, on Dec. 31, 1999. This time around, Jesus (Martin Donovan) is clean-cut, wears a suit and calls Satan (Thomas Jay Ryan) on his cell phone when he wants to cut a deal. And the Book of Life -- the tome that lists the few heaven-bound souls, the tome that's bound with the infamous seven seals whose unlockings mark the stages of humanity's doom -- is a Macintosh PowerBook.

(Actually, the similarity in the basic themes of the two films isn't such a coincidence when you stop and think. The turning of the millennium is an obvious prompt for apocalyptic thoughts, and the breezy, chatty, modern-day take on the eternal battle between good and evil is positively old hat in the realm of fiction. Smith is an admitted fan of the fantasy writer Neil Gaiman, whose novel Good Omens reads like the spiritual parent of both movies.)

The Book of Life is certainly interesting to look at: Hartley shot in video, then transferred to 35mm film, utilizing a distinctive process that often leaves images streak-jerking across the screen. It's sometimes attractive, usually distracting. That's not necessarily bad, though, as the acting is even more stilted and mannered than in the typical Hartley film. The most natural of the actors is the one who represents the other strange coincidence: rock musician PJ Harvey, playing Jesus' "assistant" Magdalena (just as rock musician Alanis Morrisette plays God Herself in Dogma).

Hartley's movie doesn't try to be the laugh riot Smith's does -- but nor does it aim for Dogma's most poignant moments. It's both quieter and simpler -- and as such, an interesting complement that's worth watching when it screens, three days after Dogma does. // S.H.S.

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