Corpus Christi – Jan Komasa | #film

Corpus Christi – Jan Komasa

Jan Komasa’s long-awaited film will unfortunately leave viewers unfulfilled. The daring story of a young man pretending to be a priest in a provincial church turns into a series of predictable anecdotes and ends up a simple story about the need for acceptance.

Daniel (Bartosz Bielenia) is an adolescent with the face of an angel and a criminal conviction. At the juvenile correctional facility where he spent his previous few years, he found a new purpose – priesthood. Fascinated by the local priest (Łukasz Simlat), Daniel decided to become a clergyman himself. He already has the Blessed Virgin tattooed on his back, recites the Rosary in the evenings, and fervently sings religious songs at the altar. Unfortunately, the criminal episode from his past erases this dream of priesthood.

However, he does not give up. When Daniel leaves for work after leaving juvenile detention, he impersonates a priest in a small town in southern Poland, becoming the spiritual leader of a community shattered by a past tragedy.

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Corpus Christi (Boże Ciało) by Jan Komasa - International Trailer

A World of Accidents

Such a starting point for a story could be great for a Billy Wilder-style comedy – one which tells of a young criminal who is taken for a priest, followed by a series of absurd events and amusing insinuations.

However, Corpus Christi is not a comedy. Jan Komasa and scriptwriter Mateusz Pacewicz tell the story of Daniel in a serious key. It is a story about the nature of faith, vocation, and the need for acceptance.

This approach has several negative consequences. While in comedy even the most improbable coincidences would be acceptable, in drama they turn out to be a liability. And Corpus Christi is full of miraculous coincidences. The film’s creators do not bother to tell the viewer how a boy from a juvenile correctional facility has a shirt with a clerical collar in his luggage, nor why a would-be employer does not ask about the boy who was supposed to work for him. When it is convenient for them, they get rid of the old parish priest from the village to create a place for the young impostor.

All this together gives the impression that Corpus Christi is ruled by the logic of deus ex machina (no pun intended) and the principles of probability become less important. And although Komasa’s lapidary story is told with great eloquence, it is difficult to get over the mounting implausibility.

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A still from 'Corpus Christi' directed by Jan Komasa, photo: Andrzej Wencel/Aurum Film

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Non-believers

Daniel creates himself from elements borrowed from other people. The sermon he preaches to the faithful is stolen, as well as the method of releasing emotions observed in a priest from the reformatory school. Komasa poses interesting questions – to what extent can we free ourselves from the patterns we are pushed into; where does the limit of individual expression lie? But these questions quickly go into the background, giving way to a predictable story about a provincial community.

By telling the story of a self-proclaimed priest, Komasa draws a religious landscape of the Polish province. It exposes the facade of folk religiousness, which masks envy and intellectual laziness. But the image of the province in Komasa’s work resembles more a caricature of Małgorzata Szumowska’s Face than a poignant criminal charge worthy of Vinterberg’s The Hunt.

Abandoned

Komasa looks at the relationships between the members of the small community but loses sight of the main character every step of the way. With time, the story of the traumatised villagers becomes more important than the protagonist’s inner transformation. Corpus Christi and the great concept of its script thus become a film that is predictable, devoid of an aura of mystery and spiritual depth.

Komasa’s work also disappoints with its shortcomings as a drama film. Daniel’s story does not culminate, and the main intrigue (the funeral which conflicts the community) leaves the viewer completely indifferent. When creating film antagonists, the filmmakers focus on quantity (there are at least five of them) rather than quality – the tensions between the characters disappear before they have a chance to resonate.

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A still from 'Corpus Christi' directed by Jan Komasa, photo: Andrzej Wencel/Aurum Film

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Theatre of the great actor

That being said, Corpus Christi is full of excellent acting. Especially the performance of Bartosz Bielenia, who brings youthful energy, thuggish charm, and spiritual beauty to the screen. Bielenia, the owner of one of Polish cinema’s most unusual faces, alternately seduces viewers and rejects them. He can be poignant and dangerous, touching and endearingly helpless. And although Bielenia’s role in Corpus Christs is not written in the best way, his creation deserves great applause.

It is the same with Tomasz Ziętek, Bielania’s partner on-screen. Playing the role of a young blackmailer and thug, Ziętek once again proved himself to be a film animal. When he appears on the screen, he captures the attention of the camera and viewers. The acting talents and sensitivities of Bielenia and Ziętek save Komasa’s film. Thanks to them, psychological truth continuously prevails over the conceptualism which permeates Corpus Christi.

Jan Komasa’s film turns out to be an unfulfilled promise. Instead of a dramatic story about the search for faith, about maturing and forming one’s identity, Komasa offers viewers a collection of spectacular anecdotes from the life of a small community. A bold starting point turns into a painfully obvious film with every minute of its runtime.

In 2019, Jan Komasa’s film became the Polish candidate for an Oscar for the best non-English-language film.

Corpus Christi, Director: Jan Komasa. Screenplay: Mateusz Pacewicz. Photos: Piotr Sobociński, Jr. Starring: Bartosz Bielenia, Tomasz Ziętek, Eliza Rycembel, Łukasz Simlat, Aleksandra Konieczna.

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