Sins of the Flesh

By Jerry Stamatelos

 

The Crime of Father Amaro (El Crimen del Padre Amaro) trailer conjured up 20-year-old images of the wildly successful miniseries "The Thorn Birds." Richard Chamberlain’s romp with a fetching Rachel Ward drew no controversy, perhaps due to the focus on Chamberlain’s failure as one man of the cloth, and not as a scathing indictment on the church or its clergy per se. But with the Catholic Church routinely grabbing headlines worldwide for its rampant sexual abuse nowadays, it’s no wonder The Crime of Father Amaro has caused such a furor. Amaro has parlayed its notoriety into the highest grossing locally made movie in Mexico.

Loosely based on a 19th century novel of the same name by celebrated Portuguese writer José Maria Eça de Queiróz, the movie takes place in modern-day Mexico, where a 24-year-old Father Amaro (Gael García Bernal, Amores Perros, Y Tu Mamá También), arrives at a small parish in Los Reyes to embark on a promising liturgical career. On the Bishop’s orders, he’s to provide a helping hand in Father Benito’s daily operations. Benito (Sancho Gracia), deeply entrenched in the community, welcomes Amaro’s wide-eyed idealism.

The ambitious priest meets Amelia (Ana Claudia Talancón), a wholesome and immaculate 16-year-old who teaches the good word at Sunday school. Her attraction to Amaro is immediate, and the youngish padre is awakened to her potentially explosive sexuality when she lets him in on certain self-gratifying secrets at the confessional. Amelia initially spurns his advances but eventually buckles to carnal pleasure, and the two set off on a torrid sexual journey that has its share of witnesses, despite their cover. In a perverse fate, Amelia’s widowed mother is locked in a long-term relationship with the revered Father Benito.

It doesn’t take long for Amaro to wise up to the fact that corruption and the Church run hand in hand in small-town Mexico. Once again, Benito is at the epicenter, gladly accepting drug money to build a hospital, a practice justified by turning bad money into good. Added to the mix is a motley crew of townsfolk, corrupt politicians and excommunicated priests with leftist guerilla leanings. Despite Amaro’s sobering realization, he continues to plunge further into sacrilege, with sins of the flesh ultimately pitted against a higher calling.

Bernal follows up his other-worldly acting success in Y Tu Mamá También admirably, seemingly perfectly cast for the role of a tormented Roman Catholic priest. In fact, the acting is masterful throughout and supremely shot. Forty year-old director Carlos Carrera makes no qualms about his intentions here; the portrayal of organized religion and ministry is exposed for public consumption, and the picture that’s painted isn’t a pretty one, what with flaming lotharios disguised as priests and a thoroughly shady Church. Furthermore, Amaro’s moral and ethical unraveling is anticipated.

The Crime of Father Amaro is as much a social treatise, straddling a fine line between the black, white and gray of compromise, as it is a character-driven plot, a man who failed himself first and foremost, and then his calling.

Jerry Stamatelos shapes young minds at a private coed school in Montreal, Canada, translates literary text from the Greek and mainly contributes articles on Greek Canadian and Greek American affairs to the English language press worldwide. He is also taking a stab at longer fiction, by working on a novella.

 
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