The King of Kings

by Mike McGranaghan

The King of Kings uses animation to tell the story of Jesus so that children can identify with and understand it. A stellar cast has been assembled to accomplish this task. Oscar Isaac gives voice to Jesus, Pierce Brosnan is Pontius Pilate, Ben Kingsley is Caiaphas, Forrest Whitaker is Peter, and Mark Hamill is King Herod. Bright, appealing visuals pop off the screen while still preserving the meaning of the gospel stories being depicted. Kids who are perhaps prone to daydreaming in Sunday school will sit upright in their seats as Christ’s life is stirringly portrayed.

Unfortunately, that’s only about half the movie.

The first ten minutes are a harbinger of what’s to come, as they feature the slapstick antics of a cat and a little boy, both belonging to author Charles Dickens (Kenneth Branagh). His performance before a packed theater is ruined by their mischief. Afterward, a dejected Dickens is convinced by wife Catherine (Uma Thurman) to make nice with son Walter (Roman Griffin Davis) by telling him a bedtime story. Since Walter is obsessed with King Arthur, the noted writer decides to tell a story about “the king of kings,” i.e. Jesus.

Intercut with Christ’s tale are long, pointless scenes in which Walter first resists hearing his father’s story, then gradually begins asking questions and showing interest. The boy imagines himself and his feline friend in famous Biblical moments as they come up, so we see them watching as Jesus is born, crucified, etc.

The choice to structure The King of Kings this way is baffling. When you have the story of Jesus, which is literally the Greatest Story Ever Told, why do you need a precocious kid and a mischievous cat? They aren’t interesting. Charles Dickens was an interesting man, but his career doesn’t factor in. He’s used as a framing device, so there’s no insight into his works or creative process. And yet, an excess amount of time is spent showing him bantering back and forth with his son, a subplot with zero dramatic tension. Or relevance to Christ’s life, for that matter.

Whenever the movie sticks to the Bible, it’s obviously compelling. Every time you really get into the portrait of Jesus, though, the Dickens family barges in, halting the momentum and wasting precious minutes that could be devoted to what the audience truly cares about. The need to include them on a regular basis has the added effect of forcing The King of Kings to condense or rush through important aspects of its source material.

It seems obvious to me that the New Testament needs no embellishments. Why not scrap the Dickenses and elaborate more on Christ’s message, how it rankled the Romans, and how others were profoundly inspired by it? Give it the full running time. Nobody coming to see The King of Kings is there for Charles Dickens. Fifty percent of the film is inspiring, whereas the other fifty percent is just maddening.

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