(avg. read time: 25–50 mins.)
Prelude
I was surprised to discover the movie I am reviewing today when I was perusing the shelves of a Vintage Stock store. I had never heard of a movie about Barabbas, much less one that starred the likes of Anthony Quinn, Ernest Borgnine, Harry Andrews, Katy Jurado, and Jack Palance, among others. I had also never heard of the 1950 Swedish novel it was based on (being the second film adaptation). Unlike Ben-Hur, I have yet to get around to reading that book, so I will not be able to comment on continuities and discontinuities with the source like I did intermittently in my Ben-Hur review.
I consider this a “para-biblical” adaptation like Ben-Hur because the story begins with what is narrated in the Bible, but the majority of the story extends beyond the scope of what is covered therein. The NT has little to tell us about Barabbas. Although he appears in all four canonical Gospels, it is only a brief appearance in the choice Pontius Pilate offers the Jewish crowd before he then disappears altogether. In a few manuscripts of Matt 27:15–23, he is referred to as Jesus Barabbas, which further highlights the significance of his name as “son of the father/Father,” as Abba could be a reference to God as Father (cf. Mark 14:36; Rom 8:15; Gal 4:6), and thus of his contrast with Jesus Christ, the Son of God. It should be noted that most manuscripts lack the reference to him as “Jesus,” but the significance of the name remains, though it should hardly be surprising, as names tended to have such significance, and there were many Jewish names that were theophoric in some way (including the common name “Jesus/Yeshua”). Only John 18:40 directly refers to him as a ληστής, which has the sense of an insurrectionist/rebel or bandit (or pirate in some contexts), although Mark says he was imprisoned among insurrectionists using a similar term (15:7), and Luke notes that he was imprisoned for insurrection (using a similar term again) and murder (23:19, 25).
Each Gospel also references as the setting for Barabbas’s appearance in the story a certain custom. This was a custom of releasing a prisoner on the Passover. Some have had issues with the historicity of this custom, even though all four Gospels reference it, but not in the exact same way. While in other cases this would seem to be clear enough evidence that there was a custom, because of the way the Gospels in particular are treated, some think that other attestation is needed to avoid the claim that the custom was made up. Of course, there is no other direct attestation outside of the Gospels, but it is unclear why there would need to be if there was not some other occasion on which it was important to note this. It may be implied by the reference to prisoners due to be released on Passover in m. Pesaḥ 8.6, but this is not clear, and it could just be a more general statement that would include this custom. Pilate had previously backed down out of accommodation to the Jews when he thought to bring ensigns bearing Caesar’s image into Jerusalem (Josephus, Ant. 18.55–59). Similarly, there were multiple cases where we can see accommodations made for Jews by local leaders (or we see them in cases where they are then revoked), with which this custom would fit (cf. Josephus, Ant. 20.182–184; War 2.220; 7.100–111; Ag. Ap. 2.73). There are also cases where prisoners were released by Roman leaders for one purpose or another (Josephus, Ant. 17.204; 20.215; Livy, Hist. 5.13.8; Pliny the Younger, Ep. 10.31; P Flor. I 61). Josephus had appealed for the lives of many who might otherwise have been executed when Titus conquered Jerusalem (Josephus, Life 418–419), and this included three men who were already crucified when he appealed to Titus (Josephus, Life 420–421), but only one of them lived after being removed from their crosses. Even such people were not immune from Roman pardon and release.
In any case, Pilate appears to offer Barabbas because he wants to release Jesus (Luke 23:20), and because he wants to test how far the envy of the Jewish leaders goes if they were to pick this menace to the state over a man for whom he could find no grounds for capital punishment (cf. Matt 27:18 // Mark 15:10). This gambit ultimately fails to bring about Jesus’s release, and Pilate’s hand is forced to release the obvious criminal, lest he should have a rebellion on his hands immediately. In particular, the implied threat against one they would claim is not a friend of Caesar (John 19:12), and thus of going to Caesar about this matter, is no idle threat. The Samaritans had Pilate removed precisely because they appealed to Caesar after his actions in Samaria (Josephus, Ant. 18.85–89).
Overall Film Impressions
It is with this episode in question that the story begins. But before we get into the events, I want to make some overall comments on the movie. For those who have not seen it, I do recommend watching it at least once. It is not on the level of scale or quality of films like Ben-Hur, The Ten Commandments, or others that I will review in this series, but it is worthwhile as a lower-budget representative of these biblical and para-biblical films, and one that is better written than many.
Since this was not a product with major studio backing like the aforementioned films, it is unsurprising that the production values are not particularly high for this movie, with at least one key exception that I will note later. Overall, it is not a particularly impressive movie to look at, and apart from the anachronistic presentation of the Colosseum, the sets for Jerusalem and Rome are largely without remarkable distinction. Even the countryside in one could just as well serve as the countryside of another, though that is not surprising, given that this was all shot in Italy.
Like other Italian films of this time (such as the famous spaghetti westerns), there is quite a lot of ADR. Of course, ADR is a pervasive aspect of live-action movies, but sound mixing can hide some of the seams of it. Yet in this case, the use of ADR and overly loud and clear dialogue in situations where it should not be, which also sometimes does not match the lip movements, gets to be rather distracting, at least for me. As another aspect of the sound, the music is most notable for the thematic use of the Kyrie from Orbis Factor: Missa XI.
But of course, this is a lower-budget movie that cannot be carried along by its production values; it must rely on its cast. And as I mentioned before, this movie does have a strong cast, albeit that cast is perhaps too star-studded for a movie of this length to utilize them all properly. For example, while Katy Jurado gave a great performance in High Noon, her restricted screentime and dialogue does not really use her talents well here. She is just functional here. Silvana Mangano as Rachel is also fine, but her role does not really present her the opportunity to show off the range she is capable of. Even so, she does well with what the script gives her. Ernest Borgnine is his typical reliable self with the role of Lucius, but I just wish he had more time on screen. And so on I could continue with most roles in this movie. With the exception of Vittorio Gassman, who gives a memorable and dignified performance as Sahak, Barabbas’s Christian companion, the cast tends not to have enough time on screen. This is Anthony Quinn’s movie to carry as the titular character, and he is obviously up to the task. If anyone wants an example of Quinn’s talents as an actor to play characters with several layers (not only across the film but in individual scenes), this is certainly a good movie to reference.
I also could not help but notice that this movie has some interesting connections with two of the greatest works in the “biblical epic” genre: Ben-Hur and the miniseries Jesus of Nazareth. The connections with Jesus of Nazareth have to do with casting (as this movie and that series both prominently feature Anthony Quinn and Ernest Borgnine). But it is also notable that a certain Roman soldier (played by Remington Olmsted) who denied water to Ben-Hur in his movie appears here to torment Barabbas and Sahak. Others will be noted as this review goes along.
Now let us get into the details.
Barabbas Released, but Not Free
As I said, the movie opens with the choice Pilate offers, though it is someone else who brings up the option of the custom noted in the Gospels. I imagine that this is just to make the scene a bit more dynamic for the screen. Jesus is described as one charged with sedition and blasphemy. The latter is more pertinent to Jewish law while the former is more pertinent to Roman law, but the description as a whole fits Jesus’s multiple trial scenes.
The same person who brought up the custom also describes Barabbas as a “rebel, a robber, an assassin.” Again, this fits with the Gospel descriptions of him, with the first two terms almost functioning as alternate translations of the term from John (although “robber,” while a popular translation, does not quite do the term justice). And it is plausible that someone like him, even if not being in favor of Jesus, would object to such a prisoner even being given a chance for release.
Obviously, from the Gospels we know how the choice turns out, and Jesus is sent to be scourged, given his “costume,” and then led away to crucifixion. The robe he is given is red, which is closer to how Matthew describes the robe as a scarlet or crimson one (Matt 27:28). The terms used in Mark and John could be translated as “purple” (Mark 15:17, 20; John 19:2, 5), but the terms more generally refer to a valuable kind of dye that could produce a range of colors including purple, crimson, or scarlet (cf. Rev 17:4 and 18:16; Luke’s description in 23:11 does not really provide a color).
We are then introduced to Barabbas in his cell after we have a scene of Jesus being scourged. After the soldiers inform him of his release, he is promptly shoved out of his cell. He catches himself on the post Jesus was bound to while he scourged, which stains his hands with Jesus’s blood. This is the first of many links, subtle and not subtle, made between Barabbas and Jesus. It is also the first intimation of how Barabbas will be haunted by his link with Jesus. Even so, the Romans say they should take a hair from his beard as a token of luck. This, too, is the first appearance of a motif of ironic declarations of Barabbas’s luck over the course of the movie.
Another motif is introduced with the next scene. As Barabbas leaves his prison, he sees the face of Jesus obscured by a bright light. The light slowly fades and his face looks so similar to Barabbas that I thought they were trying to use Anthony Quinn’s face here to further show how Jesus is taking his place, but this was not the case. I think this is the only direct shot of Jesus’s face in the movie, but it is from a distance. In that way, it is somewhat similar to Ben-Hur, except that it has at least one shot where Jesus’s face is not obscured, including by an unnatural shadow. But the light that is used here is part of two motifs in the movie of light and darkness on the one hand, and sight and blindness on the other hand. This time, the light he sees upon exiting prison is blinding to him, but eventually he can see the one who is the Light of the world. However, he is not ready to receive that light.
Barabbas then runs into the cross Jesus is to carry, which makes another tactile connection between Barabbas and Jesus’s sacrifice. Of course, we noted in the previous review in this series that Jesus would not have carried the entire cross, despite the popular iconography. We then cut to Pilate infamously washing his hands of this affair, which then serves as a visual transition to Barabbas washing his hands and drinking water from a fountain elsewhere in Jerusalem.
We learn that Barabbas has been away from his favorite house of ill repute for six weeks, and he remarks how it seems like no one has moved. Everyone inside flocks around him and, consistent with the motif we noted earlier, comment on how remarkably lucky he is. He then asks after Rachel, one who was a prostitute working here, and one especially favored by Barabbas. But he is told that she is now taken with Jesus as his follower. She mourns for him now, having gone to his trial.
She will, of course, appear later, but before that, we have a scene of Barabbas and his fellows joking about how he has become the “idol of the city,” since the people chose him over one described as “King of the Jews.” There is then much revelry that he plays along with as they treat him as a king, giving him a mock scepter and throne to sit upon while they bow before him. And so he is happy to join in the proceedings until he looks out a window and sees Jesus carrying the cross. At this, he suddenly grows angry with how everyone is treating him. This is yet another sign of how he is haunted by the Nazarene, and he will be so for the rest of his days. Quinn admirably handles these wild swings of emotion that could come off as tonal whiplash in the performance of a lesser actor. With his deft work, we see the suppressed sense of guilt that he does not really understand come to the fore, and his confusion leads to anger and him lashing out at anyone near him.
He is clamed when Rachel enters. She is dressed and acting as one who is, in fact, mourning for Jesus. And she is no longer showing any particular affection for Barabbas. Still, he tries to force himself on her while she tries to tell him about Jesus as the one who has come from God. That sounds like an odd description of this sequence, but it is an awkward sequence. Their interests in the interaction are not aligned. Barabbas only wishes to satisfy his immediate urges as a way of celebrating that he is alive, but Rachel is trying to help him to find how he can truly live.
Darkness Falls
The next scene moves back and forth from the crucifixion scene to the house of ill repute. This is to mark the darkness that accompanied the crucifixion. The people inside note how the light has gone out in the middle of the day, and at first this is presented to us through the film having a dark filter over the picture in an approximation of the old “day for night” techniques. But the filmmakers go one step further by adding a unique piece of instant production value. Director Richard Fleischer and his crew managed to capture an actual total eclipse of the sun on February 15, 1961 on film. While dozens of other films have featured fictionalized eclipses, this is the only one I know of that recorded a natural eclipse, and a total one at that. It is simply the most remarkable visual of the movie that helped it secure its place in film history.
Unfortunately, the inclusion of this remarkable event comes at the cost of accuracy. Because Jesus’s crucifixion occurred while the moon was in its full phase, there could not have been an eclipse of the sun, much less a total one, that would explain the darkness. The first-century historian Thallus, whose work is now known only through fragmentary references, is the earliest known source to claim that the darkness during Jesus’s crucifixion was due to a solar eclipse. But this was rightly rejected by Julius Africanus for the reason already cited, as well as others (Chronographiae F93 in Eusebius, Ecl. proph. 3.26; Dem. ev. 8.2.46–54; George Syncellus).1
In any case, after this recording of the total eclipse that others are presented as looking at in subsequent shots without suffering blindness, Barabbas awakens to the darkness thinking that something is wrong with his eyes. This fits the motif noted earlier linking light and darkness with sight and blindness. But when Barabbas learns that there is nothing wrong with his eyes but that this is the result of the Light of the world being executed, he is motivated to go out and see for himself what is happening. Curiously, Golgotha is presented as being visible at the end of a major street in Jerusalem through a gap in the wall. Of course, this was not shot in Jerusalem or anywhere nearby, and issues with representing geography around there have been common in films. Again, I do not necessarily consider such inaccuracies to be marks against the quality of the movie. But I do think that movies that take the time to pay attention to such detail would deserve credit for that extra effort.
Burial and Resurrection
Afterwards, we are shown the scene of Jesus’s burial, but it seems unusually bright for the time of day, and both Barabbas and Rachel see where the body is buried. And here there was a missed opportunity to show more range for Mangano. Instead of her being unperturbable and equanimous in stating with absolute confidence her expectation that Jesus will rise in two more days because he promised to be in the world again, she should have been more representative of the state of the disciples at this time. Although Jesus did predict these things, his disciples did not come to believe what he predicted until after it happened. No one in the Gospel narratives is talking or acting like her as Good Friday comes to a close. We could see her going from dejection to jubilation once she learns that her Lord has risen.
Barabbas returns on the appointed day after remembering Rachel’s words. He finds the tomb empty and the stone rolled away. He also finds Rachel there, and she tells him what happened. The scene she describes of the appearance of the angel is closer to the Gospel according to Peter than anything in the canonical Gospels. She also speaks of the scene in John 20 when Jesus appeared to Mary Magdalene, but for whatever reason, she does not name her. Barabbas thinks she was just seeing things and that the truth of the matter was that Jesus’s disciples came and took the body to hide it somewhere else while they went on proclaiming the message. This fits with the polemic we see in Matthew’s resurrection narrative.
There is an interesting quote in this exchange from Rachel when she poses a question to Barabbas: “Why do you think he should lie about himself when it meant he would be killed?” This approaches something like presenting the resurrection as a vindication of what Christ claimed about himself, which is one level of significance of that event. It is also similar to the “why suffer/die for a known lie” line of reasoning when Christians appeal to the disciples enduring persecution and martyrdom when they could have simply abandoned their claims. The problem I have with this presentation is that there has not really been adequate setup for it. On the one hand, you could say that the movie is like Ben-Hur in assuming that you know how that story goes, but on the other hand, that approach runs up against the last few minutes of this movie that has spelled out the story to a point. In context, the exchange comes off as a bit stilted because it does not naturally flow from what came before.
Speaking of dialogue that is not quite fit for purpose, Barabbas appeals to the priests and their knowledge in pronouncing a verdict of blasphemy against Jesus, to which Rachel responds, “he said: ‘love one another.’” The implication, as Barabbas recognizes (and mocks), is that this was the message that got him crucified, as if the authorities were against the call to love one another, and not anything else in particular. It appears that the filmmakers are taking an approach similar to Ben-Hur in drawing on some of Jesus’s most well-recognized words. But what they should have followed from that movie is to draw on the teachings that were more directly to the point of the context in which they are invoked. Given the motifs of light and darkness with sight and blindness, I would think something from John 8, 9, or even 10 would have been a good fit here, especially since those texts also involve conflict with the Jewish authorities about the claims Jesus makes about himself (or others make about him). Besides, at least in the texts of the Gospels, the command to “love one another” in those words only appears where he is addressing the disciples (John 13:34–35; 15:12, 17), rather than the leaders or the people in general. As such, it does not really work to link this as directly to his crucifixion as something one could have drawn from one of those other texts.
Barabbas and the Disciples
Barabbas then goes to meet the disciples to ask them what they did to Jesus. This appears to be after Jesus’s appearance to the disciples, but before his appearance to the disciples including Thomas, as he says he will only believe that Jesus has risen when he can see and touch him for himself, to which one of the others (we are not told who is who besides Peter) responds that he is always full of doubts without cause. This fits with the all-too-common tendency of defining Thomas’s character by this one moment and not by, say, his resolve in 11:16 to go and die with Jesus. Nor his doubt without cause, as the other disciples had doubted the women’s report as well. I am inclined to agree more with John Wenham that it could be that Thomas had a deeper understanding of what Jesus’s resurrection would mean than his fellows, and so he thought he needed the extra assurance. This portrayal is not really a mark against the movie because of how pervasive such a description of Thomas has been, but it does mean it misses an opportunity to stand out.
Where it does not miss the opportunity is in Barabbas and Peter’s interaction. During this conversation, Peter is making a fishing net, on the one hand foreshadowing John 21 and, on the other hand, invoking his background as a fisherman. He speaks of how his hands go to the habit, but he acknowledges that the streets of the city are now where he must fish. He remembers what he calls “a joke” from Jesus, albeit a serious one, that he and his fellow disciples would be fishers of men. This metaphor has naturally drawn a lot of attention over the years, as people have argued what elements of correspondence there are between the source domain and the target domain. But this scene adds another dimension to that conversation, as Barabbas scoffs at it, since surely Peter and his fellows know what happens to the fish: they struggle, gasp, and die. Peter acknowledges the truth of what he says, as he responds that he too must struggle, gasp, and die. But on this side of Jesus’s resurrection, he can say that he is to die in order to live. This is where he says that men have the advantage over fish. Unlike fish, men can die to this world and live.
These lines give the audience interesting points to think about, and they reflect some realities of first-century Christians. Unfortunately, like with what I noted about Rachel prior to the resurrection, this all seems out of place given where we are in the NT timeline. When one reads Acts 1:1–8, it does not appear that the disciples have come to terms with this expectation Jesus had given them just yet. The contrary is not impossible, but that is not the first impression one gets from the text. At the least, it does not appear that Peter would have come to terms with this expectation on the same day as the resurrection or even soon thereafter.
Another interesting part of this sequence is that one of the disciples offers to let Barabbas speak to a man who was who Jesus brought back to life. Naturally, he means Lazarus, who is in a different part of the house. For some reason, he still looks deathly pale with hair whiter than Steve Martin’s. I found the dialogue here noteworthy for two reasons, besides the fact that Lazarus gets a speaking part. One, it was here that I noticed Jesus is regularly referred to by his followers as “the Master.” This is not the first time he was so referenced, but since it was the third time, and it happens nine more times afterwards, this is where it first became particularly noticeable. It is an acceptable translation of a common way of referring to Jesus among the early Christians: κύριος, often translated as “Lord.”
Two, not only does Lazarus testify to Jesus raising him from the dead, but he also speaks of what the experience of death was like. He says he has experienced death, but it is nothing. If he wants to know about the realm of the dead, Lazarus can tell him nothing because that, too, is nothing. In his words, “How would you tell an unborn child what life is? It exists. But it isn’t anything. To those who’ve been there, nothing else is anything either.” This is all a wonderfully ambiguous way of speaking of what is between death and resurrection. I doubt the author thinks the same way I do on the subject, but compared to various popular books of what people have claimed to see of heaven or hell, this is refreshingly restrained and thought-provoking. It also ends on an interesting note as Lazarus remarks that others have asked about the experience of coming back to life, but only Barabbas has asked him about death, observing that both of them would have been dead but for Jesus. He says both of them share in his body and the benefit of life that he brought.
Barabbas Unmoved
However, the significance of this observation has not taken root for Barabbas. The next scene shows him back in the brothel drunkenly mocking the message to “love one another.” He then says that he is going to find out what it means to be brought back to life. For him thus far, it simply means to return to the life he knew before he was spared. And so he has lived since then. This very night, he continues his ways of theft and violence, as attempts to steal a camel and attacks some men who try to prevent him. After the fighting, though, he leaves the camel alone and proceeds stumbling through the streets in his drunken stupor.
Here, we see again that he has some suppressed guilt about living. And again, it is shown through him rebuking imagined voices blaming him for Jesus dying. He insists that he has as much right to live as anyone. And while we have not seen others averting their eyes from him specifically because of his association with being the one who lived when Jesus was executed, that is how he sees others acting because of his own projection. When he angrily tries to force a man to look at him that he thinks is averting his eyes, the man turns out to be blind. This spooks Barabbas and continues the motif of sight and blindness as the man serves as something of a mirror of his own condition. But as it is, his condition is worse than that of the blind man, as there is none so blind as one who refuses to see, much as one can read in the story of John 9.
Rachel’s Death
Barabbas then makes his way to where Rachel is teaching a group in the streets while it is still night. They ask her to tell them about the new world. But one member of crowd warns them all that anyone caught teaching about Jesus and telling the story of who he is will be stoned to death as an enemy of the state. The passage of time is unclear here. From all that one could tell from the movie, this could be the night after the resurrection, and so it seems that we have an anachronistic application of a later policy by the powers in Jerusalem related in the early chapters of Acts. By this framing, Rachel would have faced such a penalty not only before Stephen, but before Jesus had even ascended, as if she is feeling free to instruct others before the time Jesus said they are to be given power for the task when the Holy Spirit descends upon them.
In any case, Rachel proceeds to teach the crowd about the new world. Her statement is as follows:
It will be as though the Earth itself had become like a star, burned clean. Everything evil swept away. We shall look up, and there will be angels coming down from the sky, and they will put food in front of us. Perhaps new clothes to wear. White, like their own, or some blue, like the color of the sky. Pain and sorrow will sink into the ground, and everything will be made new. Because the Son of God has risen from the dead, and this world will become his kingdom.
The various elements resemble what one can read in the OT and NT. The destruction of evil, the disappearance of pain and sorrow, and things being made new are paraphrases of what one can find in texts like Rev 21–22, Rom 8, and others. The expectation of angels coming with Christ—whose coming is not directly referenced here—is a subject of his own teaching. The notion of them putting food in front of us is vaguely reminiscent of promises of the eschatological banquet (such as one can see in Isa 24–27 and 35, for example). The promise of new clothes resembles a motif in Revelation. And, of course, the linkage of Jesus’s resurrection with the kingdom fits what we have seen in many places, such as those listed here. What is most pertinent for this movie is the opening. The closest text to this teaching is what we have seen in 2 Pet 3 (see here and here), though there may be something like it in the notion of “renewal” in Acts 3:21. Its pertinence for the movie is that it is the first setup of what will come at the resolution of the plot. The explanation of how that is so will have to wait until later.
For now, Barabbas heckles the teaching and Rachel ultimately resolves to go to “the valley where the lepers are, to tell them to be read for the freedom that is coming.” This is another area where there is influence from Ben-Hur. I noted in that review that there was no historical reference to “the Valley of the Lepers.” But that was obviously a memorable reference from the movie that made its way into this one. In this case, the crowd ultimately pursues and surrounds her to prevent her from going to the lepers.
In the end, this issue proves to be all for naught because the temple guards come to arrest her for proclaiming blasphemy. She is taken away to court while Barabbas impotently calls for her. As this film has been following Barabbas to this point, except for the introduction, we are not privy to the details of her examination or trial. The next scene simply shows her being led out to be stoned. One of our noted motifs continues here as the accuser brought forth to cast first stone is a blind man; in fact, he is the same blind man Barabbas encountered earlier in his drunken stupor. But according to his own words, he did not accuse her. Nevertheless, he is forced to throw the first stone, and that is the only impetus needed for the rest of the crowd to proceed with stoning Rachel to death with what look to be rather small rocks. As befits the rest of her portrayal, she dies silently with no noticeable disturbance. Barabbas comes on the scene after he has recovered, and the crowd has dispersed. He looks upon her one last time with grief-filled regret, only to once again return to what he knows.
Barabbas Caught Again
This time, what that means is rejoining his group of bandits, who are conveniently arguing about if he is coming back at all. It is again made clear that little time has passed since his release from prison, as the news would be relatively fresh and lead to the discussion, whereas if he had not returned for some weeks after his release, one would expect they would have moved on. Again, the timeline for this part of the story does not really comport with the NT. Two of his fellows speak underminingly of him, and soon after Barabbas comes into their gathering, he quickly kills them off.
He then leads the other bandits to raid a caravan of the priests. They would have been successful in robbing them but for Barabbas becoming overzealous in pursuing the priests themselves. He intends to kill them as they killed Rachel. But in his pursuit, he is ultimately chased down and arrested. And so Barabbas’s story comes full circle in a fashion. When Jesus took his place, he had an opportunity for a new lease on life. But what he did with it is to live the same way that got him in prison in the first place.
When he is brought before Pilate, Barabbas chides Pilate for looking down on him when, despite their being on different sides of the law, they are the same men:
How else have you lived except my way? What we haven’t got, we go out and take…. How else have you lived except my way? Whoever’s against us or gets in our way, we get rid of. My knife may have bitten a few throats, but what about your weapons? They’ve split thousands upon thousands. If I’ve taken a passing woman to myself, your armies have looted and raped across continents, and have been called the glory of the earth for doing it. You were born according to the law and raised according to the law. I was born by a girl thrown out of a brothel who gave birth and cursed me before she died. But I tell you, we belong to the same herd.
This is among the better examples of the “we’re not so different, you and I” trope. And it is historically fitting, both for how people like him would see themselves, and for how many who were subjugated by the Romans might regard both them and the bandits with the same derision.
Of course, for Pilate, and for others among both the conquerors and the conquered, the law makes all the difference. They are, as Barabbas admits, on different sides of the law, but Pilate says the law indispensable as “the pass and permit to life in this world.” It is also that law that will save Barabbas’s life. According to Pilate, the law says that he cannot condemn to death someone that was previously released by the will of the people during a holy festival. Thus, he sentences him to lifelong labor at the sulfur mines in Sicily.
Barabbas is beside himself at this news that he cannot be killed. He thinks of Jesus as having taken his death, and now he will live forever. This is only a superficial resemblance of the gospel, as Barabbas merely thinks that he can live on his own terms for all the rest of his days now that he supposedly cannot die. He knows nothing yet of that everlasting life that is the life of the age to come, the life of the kingdom. In fact, the life that he will know is the mere continued survival of a slave.
Life in the Mines
The next part of the story shows us Barabbas’s existence in the sulfur mines. He and the other prisoners are given a necklace bearing the image of “divine” Tiberius to remind them whose property they are. As he makes his way down to his station, he learns that he is displacing others, one of whom tells him that you can tell how long you have been here by how far down in the mines you go; they break one in gradually to get used to the dark. What we see afterwards is a montage of exhausting misery with plenty of beatings and death all around with some dying in pairs and others being unchained from dying partners. At one point, we see a motif reappear as Barabbas is eventually bound to a blind man. He says he became blind from sulfur burns, which leads Barabbas to temporarily blind himself by covering his eyes with a cloth while he works.
Eventually, the blind partner also dies, and we find that the image Barabbas carries around functions as a way to track how long someone has been in the mines. After all, a new image is given to prisoners with each new emperor. It will later be said that Barabbas has been in the mines for twenty years, so Tiberius has died, the entire reign of Caligula has passed him by, and we will also see that the same is true for Claudius, as Nero is emperor. This is initially conveyed through a remark from his new partner named Sahak. He had been sentenced to the mines because he had allowed slaves to escape from a ship he was serving on.
We also learn that Sahak is a Christian, for he knows the name of Barabbas, despite not being from the same region. He knows him because of the gospel story. He even initially hates Barabbas because the Master died in his place. Then Barabbas mockingly reminds him that Jesus said to love one another. Sahak struggles with this, but he ultimately must recognize that Barabbas is right.
Later, the pair are made to load water at the bottom of a pit as punishment for a fight they had earlier. Barabbas wonders how the story of his acquittal has not been forgotten after all of these years. Sahak remarks, “What could kill it?” Those who proclaimed the story believe this was how God revealed himself and his will to the world, so why would it not persist? Barabbas could not really conceive at the time how significant this story was that he had become enwrapped with. Sahak says he had heard it in many places and finally came to join the movement. He signifies it now by the sign of the cross he has scratched onto the back of the image of the emperor, which shows his ultimate allegiance.
Now that he has gotten past his initial hostility to Barabbas, he wants to know more from him. He thinks that Barabbas can tell him more of what he wants to know about Jesus from someone who was part of the events of the gospel story. Moreover, he could provide a unique perspective. Unfortunately, Barabbas cannot tell him much that he wants to hear. And he has no interest in encouraging what he does not believe in.
After this dialogue, we see the first indication that Sahak is exhausted. But here, it is more dangerous to show exhaustion than to simply be exhausted while continuing to work. Beyond a night’s sleep, the only rest the Romans allow for such a condition is the permanent variety. And so when Sahak cannot keep himself standing the next morning, the guards think to unchain him and dispose of his body. But before they can do that, a most convenient convenience occurs as there is an earthquake leading to the collapse of the cave (which is apparently completely different from the book). Between the falling rocks, the fire, and the flood, only Barabbas and Sahak survive. As contrived as this whole scenario is, it contributes to the motif of Barabbas’s luck, which even the guards had recognized earlier, that seemingly nothing can kill him. And Sahak has benefited from it as well.
Released from the Mines, but Still Not Free
When Barabbas is pulled from the ruins, he is above ground for the first time in many years. As he looks at the sun, he finds that it overwhelms his sight so that it practically blinds him. This has a rather obvious parallel with the state of his spirit at the moment. He has been brought in proximity to one who bears the gospel for the second time, but he is not ready to receive it. As with the first time he looked upon the Light of the world, he is not ready to look upon it as one who has dwelt in darkness.
This is further illustrated by their subsequent conversation. After a time of recovery, Barabbas and Sahak are now working in a field pulling a plow. Sahak remarks how refreshing he finds the sea-tanged air and how happy he is to live above ground. Barabbas scoffs that they have traded life in the mines for the life of an ox. Sahak insists that he praises God even for this, to which Barabbas responds by questioning just how foolish he is, thinking he must have been swindled in every port:
“One smile and you trust the world that half kills you.”
“Yes, I trust it. It has to be hard going, or else how will the strength come that God has wanted?”
“God should make himself plain or leave me alone.”
“Am I the one who lets himself be swindled, or you? Every time he came near, you refused to believe it. But it’s never been out of your mind. What other man’s death could have troubled you so long?”
Barabbas has not appreciated what chances he has been given, even in a hard life. And so he lacks perspective to be thankful in the midst of his hardship. But this conversation does have some effect on him, even if the impact is not as deep as it needs to be. Namely, he gives Sahak his necklace with the image of the emperor and allows him to scratch the sign of the cross on the back of the image. It is a gesture he means only for Sahak to leave him in peace, but it is more of a positive response than he has given him to this point.
We then learn that Barabbas and Sahak are shown favor. Rufio, their prefect and master, has a wife named Julia who considers them lucky. She believes in this power so sincerely that she insists on touching them, thinking that their luck could be contagious. She then has what she sees as confirmation of this belief because immediately thereafter a messenger arrives with news of Rufio’s promotion and call to Rome. Thus, she insists that Barabbas and Sahak accompany them on their voyage to continue bringing them luck.
When in Rome
Upon their arrival, we are introduced to the gladiatorial scene. Gladiators and the spectacles or games they participated in were a Roman institution for centuries, though they reached the height of their popularity around this time. If this is supposed to be the Colosseum, that is an anachronism, since it was not initially completed until the reign of Titus. But I am not sure that was the intention, as there were other amphitheaters, and such spectacles and games were held in Rome well before Nero was born. The complex scene involving an elevated platform with three sets of stairs, live fires, as well as lions and elephants was the sort of thing that was possible in this setting. And it is nowhere near the most spectacular scene one could find in a gladiatorial context. Successful gladiators, like Torvald (who is introduced here), could become quite prosperous. Indeed, Barabbas likes the idea of this life. It could be his way to freedom as it was for Torvald (who had received the rod of his freedom three times but continued as a gladiator).
Barabbas and Sahak are then trained as gladiators. Only two points are particularly notable about this sequence. First, Barabbas is tested and ultimately insulted when Torvald engages him one on one. Barabbas is quite old for a gladiator, and he is not in the best fighting shape, so it is no surprise that Torvald defeats him easily. This sets up a recurring conflict with Torvald the top dog. And he is ultimately the one Barabbas will need to confront if he really wants this life.
Second, during a meal for the gladiator trainees, Lucius (played by Ernest Borgnine) shows up, being a servant on these grounds. He refills Sahak’s wine, spilling some in the process and using the spilled wine to draw the sign of the cross for him. He talks with Sahak later when it is safer. In that conversation, he informs him about the state of Christians in Rome. We are again dealing with either anachronism or just general timeline confusion. Unless some more years have gone by since Barabbas and Sahak have come to Rome, we are supposed to be in the early years of Nero’s reign, but the days of intense persecution did not begin until after the fire in Rome in 64. That does not mean there was no conflict for the Christians in Rome, of course, as they were, for example, caught up in Claudius’s expulsion order in 49, and there were always plenty of informal pressures for the Christians to conform, and Tacitus indicates that they were already hated by some in Rome (Annals 15.44). But Lucius says that the days are getting darker for them in Rome with increasing persecution. He also says that Peter is in Rome and that they meet in the catacombs. Sahak finds that odd that they meet where the dead lie. Lucius tells him, “It may seem to you that the faith is buried. But so is the seed before the harvest.” This fits with texts like John 12:24, and other uses of seed imagery in relation to faith and the gospel.
After this conversation ends, we then have a scene of fighting in the arena. Sahak is fighting for his life and eventually subdues his opponent. The crowd then excitedly throws their thumbs down to cheer on what they want to be an execution. This is a common error in gladiatorial scenes, including Gladiator itself, as they mix up what thumbs up and thumbs down signified when it came to letting an opponent live (thumbs down) and executing an opponent (thumbs up). But Sahak refuses to kill his enemy, prompting boos from the crowd. Sahak does not really fit in here, and it is no surprise that early Christian wrote against the games and the spectacles like this (of course, they also included idolatrous rituals that we do not see on screen).
Sahak is chided for refusing to kill in the arena, being warned that he could not get away with that if the emperor was around. Sahak then invokes his God who is above the emperor and is soon embroiled in saying that all the traditional gods of Rome do not exist. He speaks of the one God who has one law: the law that is love. And so he says, in a paraphrase of multiple parts of the Gospel according to John while also adding something, “so that we should see what his love is, he sent his son to live the life of a man. To show that God understands the life he has made.” While this statement declares part of the gospel, it also informs his call for his fellows to defy the emperor by showing the value they have for the life God has made. He calls them—and, by extension, Barabbas—to think of life beyond eating, making money, spawning children, killing, and dying. He even says, “God said, ‘burn away the old world and let the new one rise from the ashes.’ As the Son of God rose from the dead, he died for us.” While the latter statement summarizes key events of the gospel narrative, the former is not something you will find explicitly in Scripture. As with the previous reference to the burning of the world, the closest analog is 2 Pet 3. But such words are invoked here specifically to foreshadow this movie’s denouement.
Sahak then mentions that Barabbas saw Jesus. He mentions that he saw him die and he was there to see the tomb empty. Barabbas reluctantly says what he saw, but he does not frame it the same way as Sahak. For example, he does not call Jesus the Son of God; he merely says others called him that. But that is enough for him to be in trouble with Sahak. They are charged with sedition and stirring up mutiny, leading to their arrest and trial.
Sahak’s Death
In explaining the seriousness of the charges against them, Rufio says that they hold views proscribed by the State and of recommending those views to people sworn to serve the State. Rufio discovers that Sahak had scratched the cross symbol into the pendant on his necklace. They both acknowledge that this signifies who he really belongs to. Rufio describes his faith as “A religion which sets itself up to menace government and order. Which denies the divine authority of the emperor. Which preaches that the slave is equal to the free man … and would reduce society to anarchy.” It is interesting that these are the things he would highlight. But it certainly makes sense that a man in a position of power like him would be focused on such matters and less on, say, christological claims, even if they are connected, because his concern is maintaining the established order in Rome and not allowing anyone to upset it. For the Romans, there was no eschatological expectation of a better world; they were already in their eschaton, as far as they were concerned. One who taught contrary to them could be considered—but, except when the emperor or other authorities decided otherwise, usually was not considered—one who defied the divinely ordained order. As such, when people tried to turn the authorities against Christians, they would make such claims as they did in Acts 17:6–7 (I will address another time how claims to this effect by modern readers have been overblown).
By contrast, Barabbas denies that he believes anything that Sahak has been saying. He claims that he has no god. Rufio is baffled by this because he bears the same symbol on his pendant as Sahak does. Barabbas can only sheepishly say that he tried to believe. Rufio thus scratches out the cross on Barabbas’s pendant, telling him that it is unwise for him to carry around what he does not believe in. Although he also gives Sahak a chance to recant his words that he spoke to his fellow gladiators, he insists that to do such would be to lose his life, not to save it (evoking Jesus’s teaching, particularly in connection with his first passion prediction). With his sentence of death sealed, he tries to comfort Barabbas that it may be God’s will for him to live, that he has some greater need for him, some other purpose.
To emphasize how unacceptable the Christian message is, the gladiators are made to watch as Sahak dies. Some are even forced to take part in his execution as they are to pin him with spears. However, they deliberately miss. Torvald, ever the loyal Roman subject, then takes it upon himself to kill Sahak with a spear. Sahak’s body is then dumped outside of the city and given a hasty half-burial.
Which Way, O Barabbas?
The next day, Torvald gets to have his exhibition to play to the crowd and the emperor. In this exhibition, he gets to charge with his chariot and a net while his opponents are given one spear to throw. He kills the first two opponents easily, leaving the deathmatch with Barabbas for last. Barabbas knows he cannot overpower or outrun Torvald, but he can outsmart him. At first, he does this with some simple positioning that Torvald cannot overcome because he refuses to get out of his chariot. Eventually, Barabbas causes Torvald’s net to get tied up in his chariot wheel, which leads to him being dragged around while his arm is caught. Once he is released from this trap, Barabbas stands over him and does the will of the emperor to kill Torvald. This earns him his rod of freedom.
But it is notable that the first thing Barabbas does after his victory is to go out and attend to Sahak. He dedicates himself to making sure Sahak gets a proper burial in the catacombs. There, he hears in the distance the Christian assembly that has gathered in the catacombs, wherein a ceremony is being performed in Latin. He tells them that he would have wanted to be buried here, so he brought him to them. The Christians respond by making a kind of sign of the cross on their heads, which makes sense as something of a predecessor to how it is done now. They then take his body for burial.
Lucius stays behind to chastise Barabbas. He mocks the idea that he had to carry his dead conscience here, that he only cared for Sahak after he died, not while he lived. Barabbas attempts to justify his refusal to die with Sahak by saying it would not have done him any good, and Sahak himself said he had to go on living. But Lucius asks him why he should believe such a thing, after all:
When the light shone, you wouldn’t accept it. When the dark came, you denied it. When the Spirit of God beckoned, you refused it. When Sahak says your life is kept for some purpose … why should you believe it? To make a gag for your conscience, is that it? You believe it because it suits you. Or maybe if Sahak stood before you now, then you would say you believed. You would repent and love God. It would be easy. But what strength would your belief have then? What would it matter?
Lucius leaves the scene after this, but I had to quote this part in full because it so deftly summarizes the problems of Barabbas’s squandered opportunities. And while the specifics of Barabbas’s are unique, others have experiences analogous to his in asking for easy paths to faith despite the opportunities they are given. And it is an all-too-human tendency to talk ourselves into believing what suits us. This is some of the best-written dialogue in this whole movie and Ernest Borgnine is his ever-reliable self in delivering it.
Barabbas is then left to pose the question that has haunted him all these years: why me? Jesus died in his place, but why did it have to be him? Why could he have not died then for all the apparent good it would have done him to die then? He has yet to grasp that Jesus died for us all; he took all of our places, if we are willing to accept it. The chance given to Barabbas to stay the sentence and repent with the time that he has is the same chance given to us all.
Barabbas Makes His Choice
Barabbas does not get a direct answer to the question that haunts him, as Lucius and the other Christians are no longer around. He searches for them, but he ultimately emerges from the catacombs to see Rome burning. He asks the people running past him what has happened and why, and the report is already going around that the Christians are burning Rome. In this telling, this is not the invention of Nero (as in Tacitus, Annals 15.44). Rather, Nero would be taking over a rumor and making it the official claim of how the fire of 64 started.
We now see why the declarations of Rachel and Sahak took on the specific forms that they did. They were setting up this moment in which Barabbas thought this was a call to action. Understandably, he thought Christians themselves would be tasked with burning away the world to make way for a new one, and now he decides that this is something he can do to join them. Only now does Barabbas claim to be a Christian when he is caught, and thus he is thrown in with other Christians in Rome who have been arrested.
While this was not really a prominent component of early Christian proclamation, at least as far as one can tell from the NT, the setup and payoff does work in the context of the story. Barabbas only decides to identify with the Christians when he thinks they are doing something he can get behind, something that does not demand a major change from how he has behaved throughout his life. But when he joins the Christians in prison, he learns that the rumor was false. He was the only one claiming to be a Christian who had actually helped the fire to spread.
Peter is in prison with these other Christians, and he is the one who sets about correcting Barabbas. It is unfortunate that he could not have clarified what was meant by the specific declarations of the cleansing fire, but at the least he has a well-written interaction with Barabbas when he questions what has happened to all the great hopes of what the great day would be like, and why it seems that these Christians keep dying for nothing. Peter responds, “Do you think they persecute us to destroy nothing? Or do you think that what has battered on your soul for twenty years has been nothing? It wasn’t for nothing that Christ died. Mankind isn’t nothing. In his eyes, each individual man is the whole world.” This gets Barabbas closer to that question that has haunted him all these years: why me? To this, Peter says, “Because being furthest from him, you were the nearest.” He gives him a new perspective on his whole life, telling him that God has never left his side, “There has been a wrestling in your spirit, back and forth in your life, which in itself is knowledge of God. By the conflict you have known him. I can tell you as well, that so it will be with the coming of the kingdom.” This is reminiscent of what one can read in Gen 32 and in many texts thereafter (especially the Psalms) in how the faithful have known God in the wrestling. But while the time when the earth is full of the kingdom is not yet, Peter assures the others with him that their testimony will be a foundation for years to come. Their deaths will certainly not be for nothing.
The last scene of the movie is a mass crucifixion, in which Barabbas is included. His wrists are tied, but there are no nails anywhere to be seen. As with Jesus’s crucifixion, it is dark. Barabbas can now die in the fashion he would have if not for Jesus’s intervention, and now it can be after the fashion of Jesus. The last lines as he stares into the distance prove to be suitably ambivalent for this story: “Darkness … I give myself into your keeping. It is … Barabbas.”
Julius Africanus, Chronographiae: The Extant Fragments, ed. Martin Wallraff, Umberto Roberto, and Karl Pinggéra, trans. William Adler, GCS 15 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007), 276–79.