Rev. Danny Fisher

Over a year ago, my friend Craig sent me the (below) trailer for Philip Gröning’s film Into Great Silence. A documentary about the lives of Catholic monks living in silence, it is the first film ever to record anything of life inside the Grande Chartreuse, the mother house of the Carthusian Order. Watching the trailer, I was immediately taken by the power of the film’s images and silence. It wasn’t until just the other night, though, that I actually got around to watching the documentary in its entirety.

The first thing to say is that Into Great Silence is absolutely essential viewing for anyone with an interest in mindfulness, contemplation, silence, meditation, prayer, monasticism, and/or retreat practice. In a lot of ways, this film is completely unprecedented; I can’t think of another documentary that communicates so much about spiritual practice. (And this one works without the benefit of much dialogue or text!) It makes the viewer feel as much like a fly-on-the-wall as a film possibly can. As Noel Murray says in his review of the film:

Some movies are designed to create an experience rather than convey information, and how viewers react to those movies depends greatly on how much they appreciate being where they’re taken. Cinematic “experiences” don’t get much more uncompromising than [this]… The idea of Into Great Silence is to plunge viewers into the contemplative, solitary state that the monks enjoy—or perhaps endure.

That said, this approach doesn’t always make for great cinema. Into Great Silence suffers from being much too long. (I think any doubt that the film would have been just as effective at half its running time are dispelled by the fact that the trailer has an undeniably profound effect at a mere two minutes and thirty seconds.) On the one hand, it’s interesting to get the unedited experience of monks cutting fabric or eating their lunch or giving each other haircuts. On the other hand, though, the experience of watching a film about monasticism isn’t the same as actually participating–it just can’t be. Though his assessment is perhaps a tad harsh, I do think Owen Gleiberman is on to something when he says:

For two hours and 42 minutes, Into Great Silence offers painterly images of an existence that is, almost literally, too reverent for words. (At one point, you can hear the snow fall.) The director, Philip Gröning, orchestrates the monks’ rituals into a gorgeous meandering trance, implying that if the movie bores you, you lack spirituality. The movie has a hushed sensual resonance, but it turns faith into an endurance test.

And while I think that Murray might be in search of a different film than the one Gröning set out to make and ultimately produced, he’s also right to point out that:

…Anyone who comes to it looking for some insights into why a man would choose a life of hard labor and prayer will likely leave disappointed. Even if the monks were interested in discussing themselves—and they probably aren’t—Gröning is there at the monastery as a non-obtrusive observer, not as a journalist. Any sense of history or explanation has been treated like a worldly possession and left outside the confines.

Still, critiques of the film’s formalism (or deliberate lack thereof) aside, Into Great Silence is well worth your time. It’s a totally unique, vivid and beautiful film experience. I’m really glad Craig clued me in to it. And I’ll give Desson Thomson the last word on it:

By luring us into their hushed world, [Gröning] subtly provokes us into an active state of observation. We experience the rituals of these men’s lives, our heads craned forward, and our breath held so we don’t disturb their devotions. And as we vicariously participate in their daily rituals, we find ourselves at the ground level of spiritual worship. It’s hard to recall a similar documentary that brings viewers so palpably close to that sacred experience.