“The monsters in [George] Romero’s [zombie] film [Night of the Living Dead] are the dark side of luminous angels. While angels are eternally alive though disembodied, these zombie cannibals are eternally dead yet fully embodied. The film troubled and entertained many Americans because it tapped into deep-rooted fears and phobias about the cadaver, and it provided an incisive commentary on the disintegration of contemporary social life. “

I find it interesting that Laderman makes this connection between the religious figure of the angel, and the zombie. I wonder if in some sense the zombie may also be considered a religious or sacred figure in some contexts, even if it is only as the angelic “dark side.” This connection also seems to tap into religious critique as the zombie may also be informed by the disintegration of the dominant religious narrative of America. Understood in this sense, zombies reflect post-Christendom, postmodern forms of resurrection through the deconstruction of the Christian meta-narrative and a lack of hope in bodily transformation in an anticipation of a more nihilistic, in some senses posthuman apocalypse.

(Artwork accompanying this post is by Muyakami, titled “Zombie Angel Hero.”)

Related post:

“Angels, Aliens, and the Supernatural Other”

As might be expected in a film that draws upon characters taken from a religious tradition, in this case Judeo-Christianity, there are plenty of religious elements here for reflection beyond the obvious in terms of the angelic figures of Michael and Gabriel. This includes symbolism such as a cross-shaped hole that forms after an explosion in the door of a building from which Michael takes his weapons for battle, as well as one of the victims from the diner who dies while hanging in an inverted cross position, the same way in which Christian tradition says the Apostle Peter was martyred. Other religious elements include the name of the diner, Paradise Falls, and the inclusion of a child who somehow is desired by both of the archangels, one desiring to save the life of the child and the other wanting to kill it. The meaning of the child is never fully developed in this film, which is depicted more as possessing prophetic significance in terms of telling future humanity how to live rather than in messianic terms of deliverance. But this failure to flesh out an important element of the story, and one with religious significance, is a problem throughout this film. Numerous religious elements are included but they presented without much significance, indicating that perhaps they are intended to do little more than tap into the viewers lingering sense of cultural religious memory rather than being part of a new coherent framework for storytelling or a re-envisioning of traditional religious elements for late modernity.

As Scott explores the topic he asks what the prevalence of the angelic might say about our conceptions of the divine:

Do the angry angels of Legion, and their roots in angelmania mean that, for many Americans, God is absent? And do these creatures, heavenly and horrific, fill the vacuum? They have certainly fulfilled some important symbolic hole over the last several decades; served as some kind of mythological placeholder for millions. Notably, most of the angel films of the ’90s had a God either entirely absent or, in the case of Dogma, rather easily put out of action. Even Touched by an Angel seemed to suggest that God was deeply concerned but mostly unable or unwilling to get directly involved, sending along his messengers to patch things up for humanity (or select portions of it) now and again.

I believe Scott is correct in his thoughts about why angels are such an important American cultural and religious phenomenon. I would also add that in my view angels provide people with a sense of transcendence and spiritual experience that avoids the discomfort of  the numinous as the “object of horror and dread,” in the words of Rudolf Otto. Our angelic visitors can be far more malleable and positive than our portraits of God, although this is not always the case, and certainly not with many late modern or postmodern cinematic angels.

Which leads me to my second consideration. The Judeo-Christian concept of apocalyptic still exerts a strong influence in American culture, but with the postmodern situation it has taken a new twist. Elizabeth Rosen, in her helpful volume Apocalyptic Transformation: Apocalypse and the Postmodern Imagination (Lexington Books, 2008), argues that postmoderns “have remained interested in the apocalyptic myth, even as they reject the myth’s absolutism or challenge the received system of morality that underlie it.”  Postmodern apocalyptic tales, of which Legion is a part, draw upon Judeo-Christian apocalyptic myth and yet also offer critique in turning things on their heads. This is evident even in the title of film. In the gospels of the New Testament the reference to “legion”can be found in Jesus’ encounter with a man said to be demonically possessed. When Jesus asks the demon’s name the response is, “My name is legion, for we are many.” A reference to demonic and evil spirits, connected to fallen angels in popular Christian theology, is appropriated by the makers of Legion who apply it to the heavenly angelic host who are turned loose in judgment by a God who has tired of humanity. In this way, angels function as a tool which critiques and subverts not only popular angelology, but also a popular Judeo-Christian apocalyptic myth.

Fears and scenarios concerning the ultimate End of things are far more broad and diverse in the late modern West than the Left Behindnovels of evangelicalism and popular culture. Elizabeth Rosen discusses this topic in Apocalyptic Transformation: Apocalypse and the Postmodern Imagination (Lexington Books, 2008).

Rosen begins her discussion with an introduction into apocalyptic thinking. She notes that just as human beings need origin stories or myths to explain our beginnings, so we also incorporate stories of the End in order to come to grips with the threats of the end in the face of social chaos and the finality of the human story. She also draws the reader’s attention to the fact that stories of the End are sense-making myths that serve as “an organizing principle imposed on an overwhelming, seemingly disordered universe.” Used in this fashion, apocalyptic stories function much like conspiracy and chaos stories.

In the history of the Western world the Judeo-Christian apocalyptic has been the most influential. In that religio-cultural context one of the key apocalyptic texts has been St. John’s Book of Revelation. In that piece of literature the Greek word for apocalypse refers to an “unveiling,” literally meaning a revelation provided to the reader as a means of providing a sense of peace and purpose to the seeming chaos and social disruption surrounding them. In contemporary popular usage the term “apocalyptic” has moved beyond this specific meaning to serve as a general phrase referring to the End. Although the Judeo-Christian apocalyptic continues to be popular in various circles, and to exert influence outside of its specific religious context, other visions of apocalypse are found throughout popular culture. Here the context of late modernity or postmodernity puts an interesting twist on apocalyptic myth as it seeks to, as Rosen states, “reject the myth’s absolutism or [to] challenge the received systems of morality that underlie it.”

Having laid her foundation through the Introduction Rosen then explores differing ways in which apocalyptic myths have been explored in popular culture. Given my personal and academic research interests I appreciated the diversity of cultural sources that she drew upon in consideration of apocalypse, including graphic novels, books, and film. Several case studies in Rosen’s exploration were of great interest to me. These include a look at Alan Moore’s graphic novel Swamp Thing, which Rosen describes as “a veritable collection of apocalyptic stories,” a differing apocalyptic twist in Moore’s Watchman graphic novel, Terry Gilliam’s films Brazil and 12 Monkeys, and the Wachowski Brothers’ Matrix trilogy of films.

Rosen’s work is a reminder of the continuing interest in apocalyptic. As her discussion notes, one of the ways in which it has been expressed is through film. A specific form of apocalyptic cinema often depicts a battle between angelic forces, humanity, and the divine. The forthcoming release of Legion next year is an example of this. Produced by Sony Pictures and directed by Scott Stewart, the film’s official website includes the following synposis:

“When God loses faith in mankind, he sends his legion of angels to bring on the apocalypse. Humanity’s only hope lies in a group of strangers trapped in a desert diner and the archangel Michael.”

In Legion the trailer indicates that God has given up on humanity and now seeks to eradicate it through the use of angelic forces. But in instance Michael the archangel has gone rogue and now stands with humanity in opposition to God as he battles divine forces. In this way Legion demonstrates a postmodern deconstruction of a general Judeo-Christian theology in a number of areas, and in so doing questions traditional conceptions of the divine goodness and a final outworking of his purposes in vanquishing evil.

As the trailer demonstrates, the film appears to be an interesting hybrid between apocalyptic tale, horror film, and action adventure. I have added this to my list of movies to see next year.

Related to the angelic destroyer and savior is the figure of the alien in horror films. One of the films the authors discuss in this connection is one of my favorite horror films, Ridley Scott’s Alien. The authors make a connection between this alien and the angelic when they state that:

“It is, in a sense, the Angel of Death, the Exterminating Angel, the avenging linchpin in Judeo-Christian mythology, from Genesis to Revelation. Which makes it all the more striking that the film’s thematic elements, such as they are, emphasize embryosis, gestation, and release. In short, creation rather than destruction.”

As the authors continue to develop their description of this film, and the connection between the alien and the angelic they comment:

“Alien, then, can be read as a hybrid of the angel and the alien genres, addressing all the issues taken up by either genre on its own. On the most basic level, there is the issue of bodily autonomy, of whether humans can withstand an invasion or resurrection of the body. For that matter, is there life after death or life beyond earth? Another issue is whether humans are in control of their personal and societal destiny. Is the Other a helper or a destroyer, and how can one be sure? The deepest issue might be whether humans are the chosen ones, the loved ones, either by God or by beings from outer space. Are they worth forgiving, or even saving?”

This connection between the angelic and the alien in horror films is even more interesting when we consider the influence of Christian demonology in shaping the thinking and symbolism in these areas. I have been engaged in an ongoing research project that explores how horror and fantasy in film and television shapes popular conceptions and interpretations of “the occult,” Neo-Paganism, and Witchcraft, and one of the research strands I am pursuing is contemporary Christian demonology. In his concluding comments in a chapter on this topic in The Re-Enchantment of the West, vol. 2 (T & T Clark, 2005), Christopher Partridge states:

“Whether we consider Johann Heinrich Fusseli’s disturbing paining The Nightmare (1782), which depicts an incubus squatting on the stomach of a sleeping woman, or satanic panics, or explicit Satanist beliefs, or Satan films, or malevolent screen aliens such as Ridley Scott’s Alien, or the compositions and activities of black metal musicians and their fans or Icke’s conspiracy theories, modern Western artists, writers, and religionists have drunk deeply from the well of Christian demonology.”

I find it interesting that many Christians e would likely be repulsed by the depictions of the angelic and the alien in horror films, and yet it may be that the representations of these figures reflects prevalent views of the supernatural other and the very demonology espoused by a number of evangelicals and which also circulates as the background knowledge or ethos of a popular viewing audience.