One of the most thought provoking films of 2010, this austere, meditative story about faith and martyrdom is based on real events in the Algeria in 1996. In a Cistercian monastery in Atlas Mountains eight monks become increasingly aware of their mortal danger as jihadists kill non-Muslim construction workers and rumours gather credence that they are the next target. Despite a relationship of mutual respect with the local villagers where the monks are valued for the advice and health care they provide, the terrorists have the Catholic order firmly in their sights.
The films strength lies not so much in the narrative, the outcome of which is known, but the directors realisation of the process of complex moral decisions they make. With strong performances particularly from Lonsdale (Luc) and Wilson (Christian) and a sensitive screen play co-written by the director, the narrative gathers momentum towards its inevitable conclusion. This is a beautiful serious film that splits audiences. Some love the lingering pace of Beauvois’ (Villa Amalia 2009, The Chameleon 2010) direction, others find it irksome. The Last Supper scene in particular provokes polarised views, critics have variously been moved to tears by the spirituality of it or have watched stony faced appalled by the directors milking of emotions through camera work and the over the top sound track.
Whatever the intention of the film its open to our interpretation. We have the freedom to be uplifted by the monks selfless decision in the face of persecution, or to see an un-Christian-like lack of humility in Christian’s leadership, or to view the film as the story of a collision of two equally uncompromising belief systems, each its own form of fundamentalism.(Marc Mohan, Portland Oregonian).
More than anything, Of Gods and Men is a drama of character, and warm humanity. Joe Morgenstern. Wall Street Journal
Audiences are entitled to wonder if Beauvois is too respectful of the Monks and their lives. I can only say I found it thrillingly audacious, moving and real. Peter Bradshaw, The Guardian
Beauvois’ serene direction and the individual performances raise this moral drama towards something quite numinous. It is a celebration of spiritual humility in the face of earthly contingency, and its expressive humanity can hardly fail to move. Antony Quinn, The Independent


