Kevin Smith and I are at a beach in Cannes. It doesn't feel like the natural environment for either of us, yet here we are. Waves break into the surf. Boats the sizes of apartment blocks pepper the horizon. It's as close to paradise as one could imagine. The perfect place for Dogma, Smith's masterpiece of faith and poop jokes, to make a resurrection on European shores.
For a long time, it seemed like we wouldn't see Dogma again, let alone in theaters. Originally owned by Disney, the film was sold to Miramax, the domain of now-legendary monster Harvey Weinstein, who refused to sell the print back to Smith.
Then came Alessandra Williams, a disciple and fan of Smith's epic road trip, who wouldn't take no for an answer. The following day, at the official premiere, a beaming Williams reflects on what Dogma means to her.
"I grew up watching the movies in the 90s, which was the golden era of creativity for me", Williams says.
"To be able to bring this movie back and work with Kevin has been a dream come true. It shows us what movies can be all about, especially when experienced at the cinema and a festival like Cannes."
It's an incredible feat of manifestation in an industry that easily forgets the smaller films. For years, fans were resigned to discovering increasingly hard-to-find second hand copies of the film, and even that was becoming difficult.
Smith sighs. "I couldn't interact with it before that because of the rights. There was no home video, nothing. I had nothing to do with it."
He gestures around us as if to make sure it's all really happening.
"It's an absolute gift from someone who was a fan of the film. Alessandra grew up with Dogma. Then she saw an interview where I spoke of how I couldn't do anything with it, and she decided to make it real. We all live in her dream now."
Alessandra decided to make all this real. We all live in her dream now.
Purgatory and beyond
The most commonly accepted version of the story is as follows: Disney didn't want to own Dogma, despite financing it through their Touchstone Pictures label initially. It was too controversial. So, Miramax, the once iconic production company that launched the careers of Tarantino, Rodriguez, and Smith, bought the film. Then, by whatever means, Harvey Weinstein purchased the rights to Dogma for himself. Only to bury it for over two decades.
"All the rights had lapsed and the movie sat in Harvey's closet for years. He owned these films personally. Now, with all his legal troubles, he needed money for the court cases", Smith explains.
Smith made an offer on the film, which Weinstein's people rejected. Then another, which was rejected as well. It seemed like no matter what, Dogma would not see the light of day. That is until Alessandra came along.
"Alessandra got the movies from him. She sold the rest and held onto Dogma and reached out to me asking if I wanted to take it out into the world", Smith says.
"I thought we'd just do the road show, which had become my business model. We'd show the film and then I'd do a show. That was already fine, but she also wanted to re-release it. I didn't think anyone would go for that, but now it's going out to 2000 theaters on June 6th. She's the true guardian angel of the movie. She saved it from the devil."
"Now that Dogma has come back to me, it's fucking spellbinding", Smith sighs.
Alessandra Williams is the true guardian angel of Dogma. She saved it from the devil.
Faith and belief
Dogma, like Smith's best films, is immensely sincere. It's the story of Bethany (Linda Fiorentino), a lapsed Catholic working at an abortion clinic, who, without knowing it, happens to be the Last Scion, a direct descendent of Jesus Christ.
Through a loophole in Catholic dogma, two outcast angels, Bartleby (Ben Affleck) and Loki (Matt Damon), discover a way back into heaven. Except religion is never that simple, and proving God, who is meant to be infallible, wrong will result in the undoing of all creation.
With the help of Rufus, the 13th apostle (Chris Rock), Serendipity (Salma Hayek), and two prophets: Jay (Jason Mewes) and Silent Bob (Smith), Bethany must prevent the coming apocalypse before it's too late.
The ideas are big, the jokes are broad, and it's more akin to the works of Neil Gaiman and the Preacher comics by Garth Ennis than it is to Smith's usual material. Yet look past the high concept plot and Dogma reveals itself an intimate road movie that is the work of a maturing storyteller with something earnest to say.
In one of the most moving and unexpected moments of the film, Metatron (Alan Rickman), the voice of God, finds Bethany in a crisis of faith. She cries to the heavens, asking why she was chosen for a task she can't possibly complete. "That's what He said," Metatron intones, sadly. He being Jesus Christ.
"I had to tell this little boy that He was God's only Son, and that it meant a life of persecution and eventual crucifixion at the hands of the very people He came to enlighten and redeem. He begged me to take it back, as if I could. He begged me to make it all not true. And I'll let you in on something, Bethany, this is something I've never told anyone before... If I had the power, I would have."
25 years later, Smith has survived a heart attack with an almost impossibly high fatality rate. He's returned to the material that began his career and killed off characters that once helped define him. When he last visited the spiritual, it was with Red State, a bleak and uncompromising vision of religious perversion at the hands of fanatics. A far cry from the empathetic and optimistic worldview of Dogma.
I have to ask: Does Smith recognize himself in the film after all these years?
"I recognize myself 100% from that film" he says without hesitation.
"Every night when I'm on tour, I get to sit in the back and watch the film with 600-800 people. When I look up, I see the kid who made the movie, who wrote it before he directed Clerks, and I see that he genuinely believed everything he put on screen. That was his faith. It's a child's prayer."
For a moment, he considers where to go next.
"I remember the kid and how he felt. How he wanted to make a movie that expresses his faith. In Dogma, they talk about how Catholics don't celebrate their faith, they mourn it. I did eight years of Catholic school and spent twelve years as an altar boy, and nobody ever seemed to want to be there except me. I really enjoyed it. I wanted to make my version of church. That's Dogma, that's my version of Sunday service, with anal jokes to make it more palatable."
Dogma is my version of Sunday service with anal jokes to make it more palatable.
"When I watch it, I recognize where it came from, but I couldn't do it again because I don't believe those things anymore. The kid who made it believes everything that's in it. I couldn't do that today. Which is why I'm writing a sequel, and that's my way back to Dogma. I've been writing it for the last six months. The guy who made the last one, he had nothing but faith. The guy making this one, his faith doesn't exist anymore."
What does the world look like for someone in that position?
"I love people who are truly spiritual. I love faithful people. My mom is one. Her faith is meaningful to her. It's real. It's like breathing; it's involuntary. I used to be that person, but I'm not anymore. But I have room in my heart for the people who believe. Now, if you're one of those who use Jesus to tell others who they can and can't fuck, those people are religious, they're not spiritual, they're not faithful. They're dogmatic. That's privilege, that's not faith."
Some years ago, Smith said in an interview that he doesn't believe in religion but he believes in people. After Red State, even that seems uncertain. Smith, lively and mid-sentence, catches my expression and, as if knowing what I'm about to ask, launches into a pre-emptive explanation.
"Dogma 2 is going to be about how to be a Christian when you're not. I've lived a Christian life, but I don't identify as such. Nothing wrong with the tenets of their faith, nothing wrong with looking out for others, living a life of service. All of these things are wonderful. I don't identify as Christian, but I live the life. My attitudes are very Christian. That's inherent, it was burned into me as a child. I learned to walk and I learned to be good to others. It doesn't go away even if you disagree with the church or don't believe in God. You can still love others and treat them with respect. That's what the next movie is about."
And just as you think he's finished, Smith catches himself once more:
"Also, we have to include the devil. We reference him at one point in Dogma, but in two hours of a religious journey we never meet him. This time we will."
My attitudes are very Christian. That was burned into me as a child. I learned to walk and I learned to be good to others. It doesn't go away even if you disagree with the church or don't believe in God.
We're putting the band back together
Dogma is, above all, an ensemble film. Looking back at the cast, it's amazing how many now-famous people it contains. But at the time, that wasn't the case. Despite their Oscar win for Good Will Hunting, both Damon and Affleck were able to pick projects that were more fun than prestigious.
For the sequel, Smith is acutely aware he won't be able to pull off the same feat of casting.
"Anyone who's alive is welcome to come back. Dogma was basically me calling everyone going 'I need you for a month and a half' and my friends chose it as their next thing. I can't do that to Ben or Matt anymore. Those days are over. But they'll be used wisely and judiciously. It's more of a companion piece than a beat for beat sequel. If they're willing to come back, everyone has a place."
The same line of thinking applies to the Dogma 25th Anniversary release, which will get an honest-to-Alanis physical media distribution.
"When we made Reboot, Lionsgate told us we sold so much that they wanted to make Clerks 3", Smith explains. "So I'm a big believer in physical media."
"This will have a kick ass steelbook. It'll have all the stuff from the old DVD will be ported over, along with new documentaries and new commentaries. There will be physical media till I die. I have the kind of audience who loves to have tactile things. So even on the business side it makes sense."
Dogma 2 is more of a companion piece than a beat for beat sequel.
Resurrection
I was 11 when Dogma came out. It's always been around for me. When I was too young to understand what it was about, I could appreciate how funny and vulgar it was. Today, viewed on the big screen as intended, I find myself moved more than once.
As our time is about to come to a close, I ask Smith if there is an idea in Dogma that he's still fond of. Something that seems to resonate even a quarter century later.
"There's a line that everyone goes for, and I hear it every night from someone. It's the part about having a belief vs. having an idea. That really seems to play really well for people, then and now", Smith says.
"Some people will say that Dogma got them back in touch with their faith, but others come and say how it helped them realize they're not as faithful as they thought. An idea is malleable, it can change and grow. Belief can't. That's why that line seem to work a quarter century later."
Smith considers this for a beat before continuing.
"It's sweet to think that something I wrote many many years ago can help others improve. Two years ago I went crazy. I wound up in an institute in Tuscon. I keep thinking that if I had my faith it wouldn't have happened. I could just say "JC, take the wheel!" But when you don't have that, you're left with the realization that you are alone. Because of that, it was easier to go crazy. It took a while, about fifteen years, but if I had my faith I wouldn't have wound up in asylum. I could have leaned on Christ, but I didn't have that. I can see why my faith was valuable to me, not just for the movie, but it kept me sane."
And does Smith think the world has changed enough that the sequel won't spark the same kind of outrage this time around?
"The Catholic church never said a thing about this movie for 26 years. They're smart enough to know that if you don't want people to notice something, you don't fucking point at it and scream", Smith laughs.
"The people who went after us were a self-appointed media watchdog group called The Catholic League. They used to go after movies and TV that depicted Catholics in a way they didn't feel was positive or something. But if you go to The Vatican, they've got Buddy Christ in the gift store. So I guess they've got a sense of humor. I hope God has a sense of humor!"
If you go to The Vatican, they've got a Buddy Christ in the gift store. So I guess they've got a sense of humor.
"I took some shit from The Catholic League back in the day. But there's been nothing this time. I only saw two protests this time around! The first was a kid in Texas, around 18 or 19, who was standing on the median with a Buddy Christ protest sign. I was in my car, and I rolled down the window, and he saw it was me and looked away, shunning me! The other was in Los Angeles. I was heading into the theater and they said someone was protesting. It was a couple who had a banner with Mary Magdalene crying. They were giving out pamphlets, so I went and took a selfie with them. They didn't like it, but I did."
"I don't think there's anything in it that you could point to and say: 'Oh we couldn't get away with it today!' Back in the day, we couldn't put Buddy Christ on the ads anywhere, and now he's the main image on the marketing material. He's massive on the poster, and the cast is really small. The marketing folks were asking me: 'What about all these famous actors?' and I asked them: 'Who's more famous that Jesus?"
Back in the day, we couldn't put Buddy Christ on the ads anywhere, and now he's the main image on the marketing material.
A second coming
Our time is up, and Smith has to head out for more interviews. The following night, he's up on stage with Alessandra, beaming proudly at the packed theater full of long-time fans and curious newcomers.
"I haven't been back to Cannes in 19 years, I honestly thought they'd forgotten about me", Smith grins. "I was elated to hear they felt we were a classic."
As the applause dies down, he picks up the mic once more.
"I've been here a couple of days, and I've felt the bug again. The old feeling. I've got to see the places I saw when I was a kid. I never thought I'd get to come here three times. Cannes was a validation I couldn't find anywhere else in the world. I thought this was a victory lap, but now I don't think I'm done. Fingers crossed, we'll come back for the 80th festival with the Dogma sequel."
"Don't be like me. I spent most my career talking myself down. But you can't get rid of hope. This business is built on hope. It's crazy what can happen. It's great that we're in the Buñuel theater, because this is fucking surreal."
It's great that we're in the Buñuel theater, because this is fucking surreal.
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