I finally watched The Passion of the Christ last night. I found it stunningly amateurish. I don’t get the hoopla. It felt more self-indulgent than pornographic, as I’d heard. Jesus dealt with tremendous suffering, but Mel Gibson presented him as more superhero than messiah. And a drop of rain starting an earthquake? Fascinating. But the best part was the end, dealing with the resurrection. The square hole in the naked, perfectly-coifed Jesus’s hand? I laughed. Out loud. I imagine that’s not what Mel Gibson wanted.