From Franco Zeffirelli’s Jesus of Nazareth to Mel Gibson’s Passion of the Christ, there are dozens of films about the life, death, and Resurrection of Jesus. Even a multi-season series, The Chosen, enjoys continued success. And this April, The Chosen’s former partner, Angel Studios, will release the animated King of Kings about Jesus featuring an all-star cast of voices.
Into this crowded field steps The Last Supper, a new film directed by Mauro Borrelli landing in theaters this Friday, March 14. But what instantly sets this movie apart is its unique focus on the events of Holy Thursday, seeing Christ’s ministry before that evening—and even his Passion and Resurrection after it—in its mysterious light. It’s an approach that’s had broad ecumenical appeal: Though Borrelli is Catholic, and the film doesn’t shy away from a deeply Eucharistic cadence, the film boasts an executive producer credit from Baptist Christian singer Chris Tomlin, who hailed the project as “biblically right on the money” and “bring[ing] God’s word to life.”
At the heart of the journey are the intertwining but ultimately divergent paths of two of Christ’s Apostles: Peter and Judas, memorably played by James Oliver Wheatley and Robert Knepper. Indeed, while the Last Supper remains the dramatic center, this movie could just as easily have been titled Peter and Judas. The two are in dialogue in the opening scene of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes (a miracle, by the way, that Bishop Barron has compellingly read in light of the Mass). Both men’s reactions are spotlighted during the washing of the feet. Later, Peter discovers Judas—who, like Satan, can quote the Scriptures with ease for his own purpose—“praying” in secret. After Judas’ betrayal, Peter confronts him violently; then, after Peter’s own betrayal, he discovers Judas’ hanging body—and undergoes a similar temptation to suicidal despair.
Moviegoers are invited into this interplay of these two disciples and their respective stances toward Christ. Do we stumble along in grace as a disciple, or stagger away into sin as a betrayer? Are we with Jesus despite our human frailty, or against him despite his divine power (see Matt. 12:30)? Do we allow ourselves to be saved by Christ or—as the devil whispers to Judas amid an onslaught of temptation—attempt to save ourselves?
Jamie Ward, who plays Christ, looks not unlike the stern, frowning Enrique Irazoqui in Pasolini’s Gospel According to Saint Matthew. The uniquely protracted depiction of his cleansing of the temple wonderfully underscores the fierce, unsettling, prophetic quality of Jesus in the Gospels, and connects to a particularly unsettling quality of his preaching: his insistence that he is “the bread of life” (John 6:35, 48). Phrases from the discourse of John 6, which caused many of his disciples to turn away from him, are felt throughout The Last Supper, from the miracle of the loaves and fishes to the film’s final post-Resurrection scenes.
Do we stumble along in grace as a disciple, or stagger away into sin as a betrayer?
But it’s indeed at the Supper where the full resonance of Christ’s teaching is felt. Borrelli does an admirable job displaying the Jewish roots of this meal—the gathering of family and friends, the Passover ritual, the Berakah prayer—as well as the confusion of the Apostles when Christ alters things, opening up a radical new direction. They dive into the roasted lamb with bare hands as Christ silently anticipates the horror of the cross; then, he responds with the words of institution, married with those of John 6:56: “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.”
As the Apostles struggle to make sense of this—“something deeper, a new covenant, a union with him that’s beyond our understanding”—it is, interestingly enough, doubting Thomas who suggests that perhaps Jesus was only speaking metaphorically. And while viewers can certainly interpret the film either way, the simpler (and more mysterious) explanation of what we’ve witnessed is more compelling: the Last Supper is a solemn anticipation of the sacrifice of Calvary and a sacred meal to feed a hungry world—and, somehow, Christ gives his own Body and Blood through it, just as he said. The Apostles are charged with doing this in remembrance of him, and their successors have done precisely that for two thousand years—an extension of incarnational logic in continuity with the earliest centuries of the Church.
Some Christians may object to the overtly Eucharistic overtones of The Last Supper, which sees the sharing of the bread of life on Holy Thursday as central not only to the Paschal Mystery but also to the mystery of the Church. But Catholics—especially those who have entered into full communion from Protestant backgrounds—will of course agree with Tomlin: This is biblically on the money.
Whatever one’s theological vantage, The Last Supper is a solid and unique film that warrants multiple viewings, and is destined to become go-to Holy Thursday viewing for Christians around the world for years to come.