First Reformed (2018)

I was raised in a conservative evangelical Christian household in a suburb-like small city. Currently, I am pursuing a degree at a moderate Christian university for the purpose of pursuing a career in full-time church work and have worked in churches for this summer and the previous two. In the past couple years since going to school, I have experienced several crises of juxtaposition in my faith, pitting beliefs I have had since I was a child against a more “liberal” or “secular” understanding and being surprised when realizing that the two were not contrary but could be complementary. The juxtaposition at the crux of this wrestling has been that between faith and doubt, how the opposite of faith is not doubt but certainty (or, more damningly, self-sufficiency).

I say this to show why a film like First Reformed resonated with every fiber of my being. It is a treatise on the difference between facades of authenticity and the real thing, and it uses the supposed tension between faith and doubt as embodied in one’s vocation in the clergy as one of the many vehicles to get its point across.

This, along with many other struggles, fall upon the shoulders of one Reverend Ernst Toller, the pastor of the titular church which has maybe a dozen weekly attenders. The dying congregation’s only purpose for existence is as a historically significant satellite congregation for a nearby megachurch – appropriately named Abundant Life. Toller even remarks in a meeting with Jeff Jeffers, the charismatic leader of Abundant Life, that his church is commonly referred to as “the gift shop” by some. That is not to say that Toller is an ineffective pastor, as Jeffers does mention how the students at Abundant Life appreciated him being at some of their meetings; looking at things from the numerical perspective to which so many in the church would default, however, makes things much grimmer for Toller. The 250-year-old former Underground Railroad stop has become like one of the tombstones in its graveyard: ready to topple over at the slightest semblance of wind.

Toller’s struggles as a Christian and clergyman come to our attention first through his relationship with Mary and Michael, a young couple who is expecting a child. Michael, recently released from prison, is counseled by Toller at the request of Mary, who is concerned about his emotional distance from her since returning home. The conversation the two men have in their first meeting reveals one of the main conflicts of the film, that of the evangelical faith versus the environmental lobby. Michael wants to abort Mary’s unborn child so that she does not have to endure what the world will become; Toller attempts to reason with him, sympathizing with his cause and even mildly agreeing with him while advocating for the life of Michael’s child. Toller reveals his own story of having his son taken as a casualty of war at a young age and how the pain of bringing a child into a broken, crumbling world is no comparison to suffering through the death of that child. The scene is a masterclass in filmmaking, with director Paul Schrader allowing the two actors to be in frame together more than not, letting us peer into the precision of their reactions to each other.

This idea of letting the audience peer into the minds of the characters is evident throughout every moment of Schrader’s work behind the camera. From the very beginning, First Reformed centers itself on Toller and views the world through his eyes; his journaling habit shows his character arc plainly but effectively while also making him feel vulnerable and open to the audience. Schrader uses static shots for nearly the entire film as well which, when combined with the squarish 4:3 aspect ratio, ensures that we only see one thing at a time and very little else. Everything that happens in the film feels very personal and immediate as a result; no blow goes undealt. This aspect ratio and the opening credits – both very vintage in their construction – make the film appear much older than it actually is, creating a visual juxtaposition between old and new that mirrors the two drastically different approaches to faith in the churches portrayed.

I could go on for ages about everything I found in this film – Ethan Hawke’s career-highlight of a lead performance, the fantastic supporting work from Amanda Seyfried, Cedric the Entertainer, and Victoria Hill – but rather than spoil all the goodness it contains, I instead urge you to do one thing: see this movie. It may not connect as deeply with you as it did with me, but even if you do not usually like this kind of filmmaking, I still think you could appreciate it because of the deep issues it discusses. It is not preachy or hammy; it is serious, ambiguous, and intense. It is the kind of film that needs to be made about religion because it uses faith to plumb the depths of human nature, and it asks us all of the deep questions that we might be afraid to ask ourselves without showing us just one available answer.

My recommendation: See this movie, whatever it takes.

My score: 100/100