20/20 Filmsight - Film Criticism by David O'Connell

Xavier Beauvois has crafted a near masterpiece with Of Gods and Men, an impassioned re-telling of a true story in which the lives of eight French Trappist monks became fatefully entwined with the burgeoning political turmoil in remote Algeria where they had sustained their work in a long-standing monastery.

In the early scenes the rapport between the community and the monks is firmly established; the impoverished locals attend to their humble lives with the monks mingling amongst them like old relations. A communal balance seems in place but when news of a deadly crew of Islamic extremists filters through, fear is stirred in every heart. Direct confrontation ensues when a late-night visit from the terrorists brings the threat of mortality a little too close to home for the monks’ leader Christian (Lambert Wilson) and the medic amongst them, Luc (Michael Lonsdale).

Do they return to France, or stand firm against the possibility of an anonymous death in the wilderness, victims of casual cruelty that serves some sinister, incomprehensible purpose?

This is a story of the persistence of true faith - a faith that survives exposure to moral quandaries that threaten to devour the mind and erupt with horrible imaginings of the potential of evil. Though Christian is caught in a difficult position, all the monks in turn must individually confront a question that contains, in its answer, life or death consequences.

Of Gods and Men (2010) magnificently evokes the enriching comfort of ritual; Beauvois takes the time to regularly punctuate his story with insightful glimpses of the monks engaged in prayer and singing – the very essence of the calling, the infallible process that steels their faith against the perversions of the outside world. This is the calm, formalised epicentre of their belief, a place of retreat and reinforcement.

The authenticity of Beauvois’s rendering both stirs the soul and informs the mind of what is held most sacrosanct in these lives. The performers are truly magnificent, especially Wilson whose apparent placidity masks conflicting instincts, and the incredible Lonsdale whose gravitas is an intangible but powerfully evoked element of the narrative.

This important, unforgettable film, with its deliberate pacing, may be seen as a test of patience for some but for those willing to be absorbed by the breadth and humanity of Beauvois's re-creation will leave the cinema with an overpowering amalgam of haunted memories to be savoured but, in some cases, difficult to shake off.