Bill C-10: when art offends

Sometimes, art needs to bother us

It's pretty amazing that one small sentence could create a hullaballoo within the art world, but when art and politics collide, it tends to be messy business.

The teeny, tiny clause in question, slipped into a 600-page document otherwise known as Bill C-10, states the government has the right to deny funding (or rather, tax credits) to film productions deemed contrary to public interest. "Contrary to public interest" has since been translated and defined as "containing grossly offensive subject matter."

The infamous bill has caused a stir-especially among artists and filmmakers-and a flurry of articles and blogs. Recently Parliament itself was privy to a visit from veteran Canadian actor and director Sarah Polley, protesting the perceived idea of censorship with her colleagues.

So what's the big deal?

The big deal, according to a young teen with whom I work, is that "offensive films are what we Canadians do." She's not that far off the mark. Productions such as Anne of Green Gables are few and far between. The Canadian film industry is better known for its David Cronenbergs, Atom Egoyans, its Boys of St. Vincent (a story of sexual abuse by priests toward orphans).

These are the films and directors that have merited international acclaim and who are now under the magnifying glass as the media frenzy tries to decipher who could potentially lose their funding and who could squeeze by.

To add some spice to the debate--as if it really needed it--Charles McVety, president of the Canada Family Action Coalition, has been hailed as one of the brains behind the "censorship" project, having a privileged "in" with Stephen Harper. This has inevitably pushed the evangelical Christian community right into the limelight on this whole issue, to the delight of some and the despair of others.

The moral content in art is a huge issue for Christians. The Church has a long history of demanding censorship, starting with the prohibition of the tri-tone in medieval sacred music, because its dissonance was considered to be of the devil.

Many, although certainly not all, members of the Christian community want art to be safe. Comprehensible. Agreeable. Safe art is not bad-films with clear-cut messages, music with clean lyrics, paintings void of nudity or violence-these are all valid artistic endeavours. But a more reconciling attitude toward provocative art can be found.

We live in a raw world, a world where atrocities happen. Many artists feel it is their role to dialogue with the realities around us, and to portray things realistically in order to send a message. Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ followed these very principles.

I don't know of anyone who enjoys being offended-but most would agree that once they are shaken to the core by a piece of art, they really begin to think about the issue.

It is these issues-issues of injustice, sexual immorality, individual brokenness and gratuitous violence-that surround us every day and that so many brilliant filmmakers are addressing. It does make for difficult and provocative productions. Some would deem them grossly offensive. But isn't it the Christian community's job to reflect upon these same problems?

So here's an idea: watch a Canadian film. One to try might be The Sweet Hereafter, if you haven't already seen it. Enjoy its excellence and give its tough subject matter the benefit of the doubt. If you didn't like it, instead of discarding it as offensive, think about what offended you. Because sometimes, art needs to bother us. And if you are bothered, the work is a success.

Dear Readers:

ChristianWeek relies on your generous support. please take a minute and donate to help give voice to stories that inform, encourage and inspire.

Donations of $20 or more will receive a charitable receipt.
Thank you, from Christianweek.

About the author

and

About the author

and