Adultery Ends Badly

In the simply named Match Point on his "Crunchy Con" weblog, Rod Dreher raises a matter I've raised here, and makes a similar point. After describing his reaction some years ago to the Martin Scorsese movie (I try to remember not to call these things "films") Goodfellas, he writes:

The kids were asleep (Baby Nora in my arms) and Julie and I decided to watch Woody Allen's "Match Point," about which we'd heard such good things. It got to the part in which the married protagonist begins his obsessive affair with Scarlett Johansson, and I swear, I could not watch it. It wasn't the somewhat graphic sex; it was the deed being done, this creep cheating so vividly on his kind, sweet wife. I felt defiled just watching it. I said to Julie, "You're not going to believe this, but this is making me really anxious. I hate watching this guy do this." I tried to shake it off, but finally said, "I can't do this anymore."

Rod may be nicer than I am. I saw the movie (fast forwarding through the intimate scenes) and felt an intense dislike for the adulterous young man, and the wish that his wife's father or brother would discover it and beat him with a cricket bat. (I am not saying that one should wish this, only that I did.)

I'm not particularly a fan of Woody Allen's movies, as skilled as he is, but I think that in this case he should be given some credit for making an adulterer so plausible and yet so odious. The average movie, tv show, popular novel, and women's magazine article rarely shows such revulsion and often portrays him — and even more often, her — sympathetically.

Adultery is a tragedy, not a sin: Adulterers X and Y have found their true loves, the one with whom they can be all they can be, the one some cosmic force must have intended them to marry, only they met each other after marrying A and B. Should a marriage vow keep them from happiness? (A question easier to ask and answer "no" these days than once it was, now that the vow is almost universally considered to come with an option to terminate.)

The story tellers do usually hedge their bets, making A and B somehow deficient if not actually dangerous, presumably because the average American approves of adultery but only if the adulterer has an excuse. He's still not completely comfortable with pure desire. If this required bet-hedging is the result of the oft-derided Puritan heritage, then hooray for Puritanism.

At the end of the movie, the young man realizes that he is suffering the effect of a godless world, in which what were once thought sins still have consequences but without the possibilty of redemption, and though I don't think the philosophical scenes quite come off, Allen deserves some credit for trying. Seeing the man suffer the wages of sin is not so viscerally satisfying as seeing him beaten by a chivalrous father, but he does not end happily, and we all know why.

Comments

[JS Bangs]

True, all of it. Which is why I found Spanglish and Lost in Translation so remarkable: they both feature people who do not indulge in sin, even though they would appear to have every reason to do so. Spanglish is better in this sense, because the wife is so obviously insane and the would-be mistress is such a paragon of goodness, but the husband stays with his wife anyway. Am I the only one that finds this movie commendable in this sense?

[inexile]

I felt the same way about Spanglish as JS. However, there's got to be something wrong with allowing the emotions and relationship to go as far as it did. "I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart." (Mat.5:28). Or as Luther put it, "you can't keep the birds from flying overhead but you can keep them from nesting in your hair." If the movie gives the impression that it's okay to flirt as long as you don't go all the way, it may be even more dangerous than the everyday fare out there.

[Gene Godbold]

My wife and I enjoyed Spanglish (more than Lost in Translation--remember the Bill Murray character did commit adultery, just not with Scarlett Johansen's character). In Exile has a point about the flirting, but I think the makers of the film had to show that they both loved each other without gaining "release" as the guy put it. Since one isn't priviledged to see the mental universe of either, one can still assume (as one can't in some of the deleted scenes) that their imagination hasn't been corrupted.

[Fr. John]

More than a decade ago, in a seminary moral theology class, we were required to read and then view "Bridges of Madison County." The oral exam consisted of this question: "How do you intend to preach the Gospel to a country where this is a best seller?" It was quite a lesson.

[Stuart Koehl]

Not to throw a wet towel on everybody's terminal existential ennui, but adultery has been a major element of great drama (and a lot of great comedy) since the compiling of the Bible. We can look at many of the classics of Western literature for centuries and see this as a recurrent theme. After all, what is the Arthurian cycle but a long discursis on adultery?

What's missing in today's art, where adultery is concerned, is moral seriousness. Adultery in the great writings is sometimes treated harshly, sometimes sympathetically; the lovers are tragic, or vaguely comical, or simply selfish. But regardless of how they are portrayed, there is almost always some serious consequence to their act. It's recognized as a sin, not merely a "lifestyle choice", and even when that sin is viewed compassionately, usually somebody suffers. Moreover, that suffering is generally not foisted off on a repressive society that comes between two people and their love, but is the responsibility of the people themselves, and is the invariable consequence of their sin.

[Jendi]

The best book I know about debunking the romance of adultery is "Love in the Western World" by Denis de Rougemont. He argues that doomed-love storylines appeal to our desire for transcendence, but in a Gnostic, death-loving way, as opposed to the true self-transcendence of Christian marriage. Read it, everyone.

[bd]

David- Would you give a few examples of what you would call films? Thanks.

[MarcV]

I re-watched "The Apostle" recently. While the main focus of the film is on the Robert Duvall character Sonnie/E.F. and his attempt at redemption, the film does show the consequences of adultery. Particularly poignant is Jessie's (Farrah Fawcett - Sonnie's wife) monologue off-camera as she pleads with God concerning her sin.

Sonnie ends up killing his "rival" and trying to evade his sin by re-inventing himself. He lost his family as well, one of the tragic prices in many cases of adultery.

[GL]

What's missing in today's art, where adultery is concerned, is moral seriousness. Adultery in the great writings is sometimes treated harshly, sometimes sympathetically; the lovers are tragic, or vaguely comical, or simply selfish. But regardless of how they are portrayed, there is almost always some serious consequence to their act. It's recognized as a sin, not merely a "lifestyle choice", and even when that sin is viewed compassionately, usually somebody suffers. Moreover, that suffering is generally not foisted off on a repressive society that comes between two people and their love, but is the responsibility of the people themselves, and is the invariable consequence of their sin.

Agreed. Consider the account of David and Bathsheba. From the point of David's adulterous act forward, we see the tragedy wrought in David's highly disfunctional family. And it does not end with David's death. One of Solomon's first official acts as king is the ordering of the execution of his half-brother, who had the temerity to ask, through the Queen Mother (Bathsheba), for the young maiden who kept King David warm during his last illness. We are left with no doubt that David's twin sins of adultery and murder to cover it up had the most dire of consequences.

The difference betweeen the story of David and the modern tales is that adultery is now often portrayed as the right thing to do and that the victim spouse and the conventions of society against adultery are what are the cause of the tragedy. In real life, it has been my observation that while the consequences are not often as dramatic as those in the Davidic tale, that is far closer to the result than the entry into lifelong bliss suggested in the modern tales.

[Gene Godbold]

Wasn't Adonijah basically positioning himself for revolution against Solomon by wedding the concubine (however unconsummated the relationship) of King David? Remember that one of Absalom's first acts upon entering Jerusalem was to publicly sleep with the concubines that David had left to keep the Palace in shape while he was away, thus giving him some sort of "right" to the throne.

[GL]

Gene,

That question is one for Father Reardon, but that is how I understand what was going on as well.

[The Rev'd Michael Philliber]

David,
Having 'counseled' adulterers & those violated by adultery (the spouse) - all of whom claimed to be Christians, I noticed that the therapeutic model you mention is prevelant. You pointed out that in that model: "Adultery is a tragedy, not a sin:[...]." That is very observant, indeed. But then, those who have the moral fortitude to denounce the "tragic" & call it the sin it is, are snubbed & avoided. It's a mess, a sheer moral mess in here (the Christian world). I believe Fr. John's Seminary Prof. was more relevant than those who are looking for a purpose to drive their lives.

By the way, I too felt that filthiness, though not from watching a movie. Rather it was when I read Updike's "Run, Rabbit, Run". I kept taking the book and slamming it on my desk, shouting in my Church Study, 'Somebody beat some sense into that boy. Quick!' I finally threw the book away, & washed my hands repeatedly for days after, praying God to keep me from ever being such a cold-hearted dolt!

[Kamilla]

Fr. John,

What a lesson!

I occasionally read books because "everyone's reading it", in a vain attept to understand the people around me. I couldn't understand the reaction to this book. Completely aside from the notion that one can know, understand and "truly" love someone after a 3-day fling, how in the world anyone can view that book as "romantic" is beyond me!

It certainly portrayed a tragic story, but not the one most people thought. "Bridges" portrayed the tragedy of someone who exchanged the real for a fantasy. She spent the rest of her life pining away after something that could never have been and forsaking the real man she had sleeping beside her.

Romantic? What rot!

Incidentally, on a recent road trip through Iowa, I found that Madison County/Winterset still have a highway sign for a visitor's center as a result of all the tourists wanting to see those famous bridges.

Kamilla

[Matthias]

"I try not to call these things 'films'"

I'm thinking of creating a Wikipedia article for "Pomposity" and having it redirect here...

[Bill R]

""I try not to call these things 'films'"

They ARE "films" in one literal sense: they are substances which obscure or blur our view of the world.

[Stuart Koehl]

A film is simply a movie that is boring--usually French in origin. Canadians try to make films, but usually end up making bad movies.

[luthien]

>>>A film is simply a movie that is boring--usually French in origin....<<<
Having survived a French cinema class, I have to agree with you. The most enjoyable movie we watched the whole semester was the French blockbuster Indochine. The professor apologised profusely for showing it (she wanted to show a movie about the French colony in Vietnam and couldn't find anything else) because she regarded it as vulgar and commercial. I liked it;) The acting was pretty good, the plot interesting, and the caast, costumes, and scenery all gorgeous. But then I also thoroughly enjoyed Pirates of the Carribean, so take this with a grain or three of salt.

[richie]

along with The Bridges of Madison County goes the novel/movie/film "The English Patient"

[kate]

Stuart Koehl: "Canadians try to make films, but usually end up making bad movies."

Any particular chip-on-the-shoulder reason for singling out Canadians? Maybe I'm missing something.

[Stuart Koehl]

>>>Any particular chip-on-the-shoulder reason for singling out Canadians? Maybe I'm missing something.<<<

Ever watch a Canadian "film"?

[Art Deco]

Ever watch a Canadian "film"?

I can recommend Conquest, which was released in 1998. The Grey Fox, released in 1982, was well reviewed at the time.

[Stuart Koehl]

Grey Fox was quite good, being the exception that proves the rule. The heavy subsidization of the Canadian film industry, as well as the insistence on "Canadian content" in movies and shows broadcast into Canada, ensures that a lot of marginal projects actually get green-lighted despite a total lack of artistic and commercial merit. But it does keep the delightful Sarah Polley employed.

[Art Deco]

See Conquest. You can get it through NetFlix.

I cannot say from my own experience that markets improve on the state in the realm of recognizing and propagating artistic merit (though as a matter of policy, I think patronage of the arts is something properly left to philanthropies).

[David Mills]

Richie: I watched *The English Patient* just a couple of weeks ago, bec. it seemed to be one of those movies you ought to know about, and thought it was amazingly tedious. Its main interest proved to be seeing if it could sustain its triviality all the way through, and it did.

I could only figure that the people who praised it were the sort whose moral standards were of the kind that could transform a simple and uninteresting example of adultery into a tragedy, bec., well, the people didn't get what they wanted. The trappings -- e.g. the semi-mystery of who this burned man is, and some attempt at profound discussions of "ownership" between the lovers -- didn't add anything but the appearance of complexity.

On another matter, I'm not sure why distinguishing movies from films is pompous, but it does seem to me wise not to call popular entertainment by a name that suggests something to be examined with furrowed brow and exegeted as if it were *Hamlet* or *The Divine Comedy*.

[Bobby Winters]

>>>Grey Fox was quite good, being the exception that proves the rule. The heavy subsidization of the Canadian film industry, as well as the insistence on "Canadian content" in movies and shows broadcast into Canada, ensures that a lot of marginal projects actually get green-lighted despite a total lack of artistic and commercial merit. But it does keep the delightful Sarah Polley employed.<<<

I guessing Red Green isn't subsidized. "Keep your stick on the ice..."

[Stuart Koehl]

>>>Richie: I watched *The English Patient* just a couple of weeks ago, bec. it seemed to be one of those movies you ought to know about, and thought it was amazingly tedious. Its main interest proved to be seeing if it could sustain its triviality all the way through, and it did.<<<

Knowing the story of the real Count Almazy, I found it not only tedius, but laughable and morally confused.

[Matthias]

David: distinguishing films from movies is not pompous. Boasting about how careful you are to do this while trying to discuss a movie is.

[David Mills]

Matthias: I wasn't boasting. If anything the opposite: I tend to inflate my entertainments and rationalize my spending time on them by calling them "films". At any rate, an offhand and parenthetical remark didn't call for quite such a mean-spirited comment.

[John Stamps]

Do "Saint Ralph" count as a good Canadian film (or movie)?
My wife and I got it from Netflix.
We liked it quite a bit.

[BGM]

Red Green gives me hope. Hail Canada!