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When a film focuses on touchy topics like war and religion, it’s easy to resort to finger-pointing and side-taking—not to mention a little bit of liberty-taking—especially if it adds some tension and drama. So you might expect that, in the hands of a filmmaker like Oscar-nominated writer/director Roland Joffé (who took a few liberties with The Scarlett Letter), a film about a future saint who lived during the Spanish Civil War (especially when it has a tag line like “Even saints have a past”) might push some boundaries and turn some heads. But the most shocking thing about Joffé’s latest historical drama, There Be Dragons, is just how tame it is.
While researching a book on Josemaría Escrivá (Charlie Cox), the controversial Spanish priest who founded Opus Dei, journalist Robert Torres (Dougray Scott) is surprised to find a connection between the priest and his own estranged father, Manolo (Wes Bentley). Not only did they grow up in the same town, but the two even attended the same seminary.
Robert travels to Madrid to speak to his father, who refuses to talk about his childhood friend or his experiences during the Spanish Civil War. But, through a series of recordings and letters, the dying man eventually reveals the truth about his past and that of the boy who was destined for sainthood.
While it explores the history of a controversial character, though, There Be Dragons isn’t really a controversial movie. It doesn’t reveal anything dark or disturbing about Escrivá or his secretive Opus Dei organization. Instead, Josemaría is portrayed as, well, saintly. Though somewhat mischievous as a child and scrappy as a young man, the grown-up Josemaría is a peaceful man who’s fun-loving and sincere and passionate about his faith. In fact, it’s refreshing to see a Christian character portrayed in such a positive light for a change. He isn’t uptight and judgmental, nor is he aggravatingly naïve. He’s just a kind and gentle man who truly cares about people.
Similarly, the members of Opus Dei aren’t scheming elitists; they’re simply devout but imperfect believers who work together to keep Escrivá safe from those who made it their mission to kill Spanish religious leaders.
Escrivá and his Opus Dei make fascinating topics, but There Be Dragons isn’t a documentary—or an exposé. As fascinating as he may be, Josemaría is just a part of the story—an interesting counterbalance to Manolo’s own experiences. While Josemaría’s story is one of peace and dedication, Manolo’s is one of bitterness and jealousy and violence.
Both halves of the film are certainly intriguing, but neither feels fully developed. On one hand, There Be Dragons is a story of faith and religious devotion (and a man who would later be canonized as a saint). On the other, it’s a story of anger and hatred and war. The characters frame the story well, but both feel incomplete, lacking much of the emotion and drama that they could have had.
Joffé seems to have had the best of intentions in making this historical drama, but he simply misses his opportunity to give real insight into the life of a saint and/or the horrors of war. Instead, he just skims the surface—and There Be Dragons ends up feeling like two fascinating bookends with very little substance in between.
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