Bill Maher's not-so-heavenly bust.

'Religulous': Jesus vs. The Atheist

By: Jesus Butler and Derek Simons

Posted: 10/13/08

"But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise…" (1 Corinthians 1:27). That is perhaps the only passage of the Bible that Bill Maher might agree with. Well, except the whole "God" part.

In the docu-comedy "Religulous," director Larry Charles (of "Borat" fame) and Maher travel across the world interviewing people of faith in an attempt to point out how unbelievable their beliefs are.

The film covers the three major Abrahamic religions (Christianity, Islam and Judaism) and even touches on Mormonism and Scientology, but leaves out almost any mention of Eastern belief systems.

Maher seems to pick on Christians the most, but this bias is understandable given the film is made for an American audience, where Christianity is supposedly the prevailing religion.

Overall, the effect is what one would expect: atheists will probably find the film funny and at times poignant, while most people of faith will likely be offended by Maher's constant irreverence.

Maher, a political satirist by trade, casts himself as an agnostic on a journey to discover why people believe what they do. However, during this "journey of spiritual discovery," tact is quickly abandoned for the more entertaining approach of poking fun at people Maher perceives to be religious nut jobs.

Maher foregoes interviews with seminary-trained theologians or foreign missionaries, preferring instead to talk to an actor who portrays Jesus at a Holy Land amusement park in Florida, and a man who claims to actually be the second coming of Christ.

Yes, some of these people are ridiculous, but does that mean believing in God is ridiculous? "Religulous" is unable to take itself seriously enough to construct a convincing answer to that question.

One thing taught in most film theory classes is almost no documentary is actually a documentary; even if the footage is all real, it is assembled in post-production to create a narrative that simply did not exist before. "Religulous" is a clear example of this. It is really more a comedy than anything else.

The interviews have been cut in such a way as to maximize laughs rather than ensure that the views (and intelligence) of the interviewees are accurately represented. The director has even inserted comedic sound effects and low-quality religious cartoons at opportune times to reinforce the laughs.

Once the world's major religions have been played for enough laughs, Maher ends the film with his own altar call of sorts, urging audiences to abandon religion in the name of human progress, thereby leaving behind all the destruction and bloodshed it has caused.

This earnest, somber monologue doesn't fit with the comedic tone of the rest of the film, and may actually take away more than it adds.

What's more, it's completely one-sided - what of Mother Teresa, or any of the millions throughout history who devoted their lives to healing the sick and feeding the hungry in the name of God?

In the end, Maher's work here seems reminiscent of a political campaign: he spends more time entertaining than informing and, knowing he won't convert hardcore believers and is only preaching to the choir with established atheists, he aims for the unsure, the swing-voters of the spiritual realm.

If you are looking to be entertained or offended (depending on your pre-existing beliefs), this may do the trick; if you're looking for an intelligent discourse on religion, take a class.

jbutler@unews.com

It's easy to understand why comedian Bill Maher's highly irreverent "Religulous" is shown at the Tivoli Cinema.

In a country where mainstream faith is a prerequisite for higher public office (notwithstanding a supposed separation of church and state), this is definitely not a film for the masses.

But for those of us who, like Maher, have difficulty believing in talking snakes or people living inside of whales (sorry, large fish,) this is a film with many exceptionally funny sequences. It's a delight for the 16 percent in this country who identify themselves as "unaffiliated."

Maher's weekly HBO program, "Real Time with Bill Maher," often blessed with high-caliber guests in no-holds-barred discussions of politics, can suffer from his somewhat heavy-handed anti-religious diatribes.

Maher backs off here, relying on his interviewing skills to let others unintentionally provide the humor.

When U.S. Senator Mark Pryor (D-Ark.) is asked if he believes in evolution, the politician vacillates. Maher states those who don't believe in evolution might not be the smartest people around.

"A high I.Q. has never been a requirement for getting elected to the senate," Pryor responds, smiling.

The camera lingers on his face as he slowly computes his own comment before his expression proceeds to droop.

Maher keeps his personal sermons to a minimum, preferring an up-tempo editing of sequences. With trips to Jerusalem, Rome, Amsterdam and London, he manages to avoid targeting simply the American faith-based fervor depicted in other films of recent years, such as "Jesus Camp" or "Friends of God: A Road Trip with Alexandra Pelosi."

He has a good moment at Speaker's Corner in London's Hyde Park, extolling the virtues of Scientology to the gathered crowd, and a wonderful interview in St. Peter's Square in Rome with Father Reginald Foster, a senior Vatican official.

Foster explains how he and his colleagues haven't believed for years in any of what he calls just "nice stories" in the Bible.

Another scene shot in an Amsterdam church dedicated to the worship of marijuana had most of the Tivoli audience still laughing hard three or four minutes later.

But the segments filmed in the United States remain the strongest. Perhaps because Maher is more confident on his home territory, he pushes his subjects harder, challenging them to defend their positions in any way that might convince or convert him. Maher doesn't claim to be an atheist, but he's devilishly close.

"Religion is like the lotto - you can't get saved if you don't play," he said. "I'm selling doubt."

dsimons@unews.com