Kingdom of Heaven

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Why does a Crusader go to Jerusalem? If Ridley Scott’s somewhat fictionalized Balian of Ibelin supplies any answer, it’s this: a Crusader goes to Jerusalem not due to a clear conscience before God, but just the opposite. The protagonist of Kingdom of Heaven goes because he’s a miserable, disillusioned transgressor. He goes to Jerusalem hoping to find forgiveness and the hand of God. But what does he actually find?

Given the subject matter and the tenor of the times, we should all be a little wary of Crusader movies. Even with the best intentions, both on the part of the filmmaker and the audience, any depiction of the carnage that was the Crusades could easily fan the flames of today’s Middle-East conflicts. That being the case, we almost expected that Scott would fictionalize his tale somewhat; but the question remained: to what extent would fiction mix with “fact”? To Scott’s credit, and to my surprise, Kingdom manages a balanced and credible treatment of the historic tensions which led both to the Crusades themselves and to the end of the short-lived and precarious peace which Jerusalem did in fact enjoy under the reign of King Baldwin. And the very real historic person of Balian of Ibelin provides Scott with the perfect opportunity to generalize one man’s experience into Every Man’s familiar and troubling quest.

Kingdom of Heaven is not merely a period action picture; nor is it just a docudrama, nor a tract on Muslim-Christian relations. It’s all those things, but at its heart it transcends them, too; for what the film really portrays is the universal crisis of faith. Who among us, after all, has not at some point doubted either the existence of God or our right standing before Him? Whose conscience has never been troubled? Balian’s own crisis is both tragic and craven: in the midst of despair over his young wife’s death, he angrily and impulsively murders an insensitive and greedy priest. He flees to preserve his life and to join an expedition to the Holy Land, still believing, at least, the promise that the pilgrimage may lead to his redemption.

This fictional framing device leads to Ridley Scott’s period action-docudrama-tract: all of which is entertaining and illuminating. The battle sequences are neither gratuitous nor dull; they are skilfully handled and engaging. The illicit romance between Balian and the principal villain’s wife is simultaneously predictable and surprising. That noble and ignoble characters can be found in the camps of both Saladin and Baldwin is historically accurate, responsibly portrayed and instructive.

And this is all not merely window dressing, but crucial to—and wholly in the service of—Scott’s fictionalized hero. When all is said and done, Balian finds no profit in the knowledge that neither honor nor deceit are the exclusive property of Christianity; his faith is restored neither by high-cost chastity nor through legitimate love; the noble principles that guide King Baldwin, Balian’s father Godfrey or knights in general don’t save the world; even Balian’s own heroics merely delay inevitable carnage.

Balian finds neither faith nor forgiveness in Jerusalem because the city is no magic talisman. No city is. Fallen man is still fallen man, and no earthly city can fix that. Jerusalem, as the Muslim leader Saladin tells Balian, is nothing. Unless, of course, one has at least learned that very lesson from Jerusalem; then, perhaps, as Saladin also observes, Jerusalem may be everything.

At the end of Scott’s story, Balian is still a just a fugitive blacksmith in search of forgiveness and the hand of God: he has not completed his journey of faith; he has simply eliminated one useless and tragic option for its completion. Like Scott himself, Balian remains unsure of his faith.

Given the story and its setting, this is perhaps as it should be. Jerusalem itself, after all, is not the Way, the Truth and the Life—and Jesus never claimed that it was. He claimed that He was all that, and more. And as pop musicians Switchfoot observe in their song “Dare You To Move,” maybe a pilgrimage to Jerusalem is far too distant and unnecessary a journey:

Maybe redemption has stories to tell
Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell
Where can you run to escape from yourself?
Where you gonna go...
Salvation is here

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