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The Da Vinci Code – the knights of the code hunter

Father's dei

Father's dei

The Da Vinci code – Ron Howard – Dan Brown’s mystical mystery tour

Crossword puzzles inspire considerable devotion and commitment. In some. TDVC is pretty much a lock for such cryptic captives. Each clue of a crossword has a certain logic that when cracked, satisfies. But the only connection between the various clues is simply the matrix that they form when complete. A symmetry of structure, not sense. The only sense the puzzle itself has is that it is diverting, engages the little grey cells harmlessly for a couple of hours and that the various clues can be made to fit together. Mechanically. Dan Brown’s book and to a disappointingly lesser extent, Howard’s film – to a ‘t’.

50 million sales can’t be wrong. Unless you think people are stupid. And I don’t. No amount of literary snobbery, authorial jealously, or cultural denigration from the hoity toity classes, can diminish Brown’s achievement. It’s a story folks! Remember them? Things people read for sheer fun to escape the stress and noise of our often monotonous and/or demanding lives. A place where, unlike the real world, things work out. A bit like crosswords. Stories – written, filmed, and soaped-up on TV, offer us satisfying and vicarious closure that our daily lives conspicuously lack.

TDVC therefore is fun. Disbelief firmly locked away, we join Dan Brown’s mystical mystery tour and relish the preposterous but delicious conspiracy that he unravels before us. The explanation for the extraordinary hold Brown’s book has exercised over so many millions, is in part I think that it taps into something deep in us. We are drawn towards conspiracy. This is not the place to discuss this, though you can easily make your own list of conspiracy-based movies. (Oliver Stone has made a career from it). But it seems to me the attraction has to do with finding a rationale, even a dubious one, to relieve our fears of the randomness of our lives against the certainty of death. Conspiracies give us a comforting sense that though they weren’t, events could have been controlled, tragedy averted. They also give us someone to blame. The eternal appeal of the story, narrative, comforts us in much the same way.

At first the most surprising thing about Brown’s conspiracy is its context – the Catholic Church? Wise Catholics will see it as silly and dumb. Silly Catholics will promote the book and film for free by confusing entertaining fiction with historical fact. But it is odd that a largely secular, or lip-service religious Britain, appears to engage with the setting. The British long to be led but hate to be governed. So cocking a snook at real authority figures plays perfectly to us. Politicians no longer have any authority, their blatant ambition and self-interest now being taken for granted. We don’t expect anything from them any more. But priests and the church still have vestiges of authority to lose. So buying into TDVC’s conspiracy enables us to delight in the downfall of their assumed moral authority. Schadenfreude for sinners.

Most people now know the essence of the plot – that Jesus fathered a child with Mary Magdalene and that a male-dominated Catholic Church hid this fact and engaged over the centuries in an epic secret battle with a protective group of Knights to bury the story and the female based hereditary line. Much imaginative tosh from Brown weaves into this implacable conflict a femino-centric revision of the Holy Grail legend. The unconscionable attitudes to women of most organised Christian churches makes this play very well to the secular modern audience and contemporary attitudes. And unlike Scorcese’s Last Temptation of Christ – the intriguing idea that Jesus was exposed to all the sins of Man, including the most problematic of them all – is posed by TDVC but not examined.

This works pretty well in the book through Brown’s steady accumulation of arcane but intriguing detail – a method somewhat reminiscent of The Day of The Jackal. Howard’s problem in filming it also mirrors Zinneman’s with TDOTJ – exposition clunks on film. It is tempting to suggest that any necessarily exposition-heavy movie should use the device created by the movies for it – the narrator. In TDVC alhough they share it out fairly, Hanks and Co all labour under the burden of keeping us up with the plot. Howard was a safe, professional, but too imaginatively challenged a director to do much with TDVC. And it shows. At least the context of The Day of The Jackal had real pace and credible danger. Most critics have mocked the line in TDVC “quick I must find a library”. Well OK but the real problem with this is how old-fashioned it is. A library – with the internet available at the push of a button? Indeed I had the unworthy thought that any halfway decent web-surfer could have knocked off the whole plot in about an hour. Cinematically the point is that many directors have made the internet both visually dramatic and an efficient mechanism for exposition. Brown didn’t need it – but Howard did.

With such a wonderful Gothic setting Howard’s too too visually literal camera and plodding editing culpably wrings little real suspense or menace from the action or setting. There is a certain veneer of visual style, good for the trailer and spin-off adverts, but Howard doesn’t exploit it effectively to create tension in the film itself. But it is the performances that disappoint most. For me Hanks is a very limited actor – immensely likeable – but dull. He has no danger. Like Ron Howard, his regular collaborator. Audrey Tautou oddly is a sort of female Hanks – delightful and charming but so nice it grates. There is no chemistry between her and Tom – no stylish sass or sexual undertow. To be fair to them, this is in part because Akiva Goldsman’s script is too constipated with exposition to give them any space to play. Paul Bettany as mad monk Silas, does way too much acting to scare up a fiver for the offertory let alone dread of divine retribution. Sir Ian McKellen is sadly more Magneto than magnetic. Jean Reno is simply miscast as captain Fache. Michel Lonsdale was the dramatic epicentre of the Jackal pursuit – Reno is Leon gone legit.

It was a big ask – convert an implausible book 50 million people wanted to read, into a movie they, and tens of millions more wanted to see. The brilliant publicity, playing on our fascinating desire to buy into this conspiratorial tosh, will guarantee box office success – despite the hefty promotional bill to hit the bottom line. But given that the unique success of the book made the movie of TDVC a sure winner, there was room for more imagination and adventure in the choice of director and cast. A satisfactory night out – but not as compulsive as the book or as absorbing a movie as it should have been.

(May 2006)

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