BY
JOHN M. WHALEN
When Trappist Monk Ambrose
(Marty Feldman) is told by Brother Thelonious (Alfred Hyde-White), the abbot of
the monastery, that he must go out into the world to raise $5,000 to pay off
the church’s landlord, he begs him not to make him go. Ambrose was left on the
monastery’s doorstep as an infant and has never set foot out in the real world.
Universal’s “In God We Trust” (1980) is the story of what happens when a
totally innocent character confronts a corrupt world, including and especially
those who commercialize and capitalize on religion. In another sense, it’s also
the story of Marty Feldman, the British comedian with the bulging eyeballs who
believed you could tell the truth and make jokes about society’s sacred cows
and not pay a price for it.
Feldman co-wrote (with Chris
Allen), starred in and directed “In God We Trust,” (the full title of which is
actually, “In God We Trust; Give Me That Prime Time Religion.”) It was the
first film of a five-picture deal Feldman made with Universal after having a
hit with “The Last Remake of Beau Geste” (1977), and his breakthrough role as
Igor, the bug-eyed hunchback in Mel Brooks’ “Young Frankenstein.” “In God We
Trust” is a scathing satire on the big business of organized religion as
practiced by TV evangelists. The film is prophetic in terms of how it predated
the TV evangelist scandals of the mid-80s. Jim and Tammy Bakker, Jimmy Swaggart
and others would go down in infamy soon after the film was released. (Although
some infamy lasts longer than others. Jim Bakker is back on TV and Tammy is the
subject of an Oscar-nominated film.) It also warned of the dangers of mixing
church and state, something that has become part of American politics today.
The first person Brother Ambrose
meets after he’s kicked out of the monastery is Reverend Sebastian Melmoth
(Peter Boyle), a traveling minister who drives around in a church built on top
of a truck. The reverend takes him to Los Angeles and sets up his stand selling
Levitating Lazarus Dolls. “Step
right up, sinners!” the reverend says. “Take a miracle home with you! Get your
own Levitating Lazarus Doll! See him rise from the dead in the privacy of your
own home!”
His next encounter is with a
hooker with a heart of gold named Mary (Louise Lasser). She is, in fact, the
first woman Ambrose ever met and he’s surprised when she tries to hide from
cops by climbing up under his robe. When they stop at an outdoor lunch counter
they have a fairly hilarious discussion about sex, in which he tells her he
notices that girls are different from men. “You have legs and those bumpy
bits.” He ends up staying in her apartment, sleeping on the sofa.
Next day he goes out to look
for a job and is hired as a carpenter for P. Pilate Wholesale Religious
Novelties, nailing little plastic Jesus figurines to wooden crucifixes. It’s
not long until he has sex with Mary and goes into a church called The World
Wide Church of Psychic Humiliation, and tries to confess his sins. But the
priest’s hearing aid malfunctions and turns into a microphone blaring out
Ambrose’s detailed confession to anyone in hearing distance. When he comes out
of the church a crowd on the sidewalk gives him a big round of applause.
Ambrose next encounters TV
evangelist Armageddon T. Thunderbird (Andy Kaufman), head of the Church of
Divine Profit (CDP). The legendary Kaufman dressed in a White Elvis suit with a
snow white bouffant hairdo piled on top of his head gives an amazing
performance as a power mad preacher out to take over the world. He’s
headquartered in a high rise office building that has a replica of the Capitol
Dome on the roof. His private office is modeled after the White House Oval
Office. There’s a side door that opens into a private room where Thunderbird
converses with G.O.D., (General Operational Directorevator), a giant computer
containing God himself (Richard Pryor).
The script contains some ruefully
funny lines. When Ambrose tells world- weary hooker Mary that he thought the
meek were supposed to inherit the earth, she tells him: “The meek may inherit
the earth but not until the strong are finished with it. By that time, it won’t
be worth having.”
Rev. Thunderbird gets to
toss off one liners like: “You can
fool some of the people all the time.” When he discovers Rev. Melmoth’s idea of a
traveling church: “Mobile Churches!” he says. “Let’s run that up the crucifix
and see who genuflects!” On the importance of money, he says: “It takes money
to buy things. Who’s going to clothe you? J.C. or J.C. Penney?” He guilts his
audience with: “God is in intensive care and who put him there? You did!”
Thunderbird builds a fleet
of mobile churches, designed with familiar looking Golden Arches and a neon
sign on top that keeps track of how many million souls are being saved every
day. He dupes Ambrose into fronting the mobile church business by offering to
pay off the monastery’s mortgage. Things seem to be going all Thunderbird’s way
until Brother Ambrose has a private talk with G.O.D.
It’s hard to believe how
critics back in 1980 dismissed “In God We Trust” as a total failure. Even Roger
Ebert gave it one and a half stars and accused Feldman, among other things, of
thinking that “characters will seem funny if you give them a funny name.” The
movie deserved a better reception. That’s not to say it’s not without its
flaws. A little more care could have been taken with continuity. Some scenes
don’t seem to flow naturally into the next, and some of the comedy seems
forced. But overall it’s a highly entertaining film that has something
important to say.
Kino Lorber’s Blu-ray comes
with an exceptional audio commentary by Feldman’s close friend, writer Alan
Spencer, creator of the “Sledge Hammer” TV series (1986-1988). Spencer provides his explanation for “In God
We Trust’s” failure at the box office. In one scene Thunderbird cites numerous three-letter
conglomerates, starting with the Holy Trinity, including “ATT, RCA, GMC, ITT,
IBM FBI, MCA, KKK . . . .“ Universal
demanded that MCA, its parent company, be removed from the soundtrack. Feldman
had the right of final cut in his contract and refused. According to Spencer,
the studio cut Feldman’s legs out from under him by refusing to promote the
film and compromised its distribution when it was released. On top of that they
threw his five-movie deal out. Feldman was devastated. His next film,
“Slapstick of Another Kind,” (1984) was a Jerry Lewis flop that Siskel and
Ebert called the worst film of 1984. Feldman at least was spared hearing that.
He died in 1982 of a heart attack in Mexico while on the set of “Yellowbeard”
(1983), a pirate comedy starring Graham Chapman and Eric Idle. Mel Brooks took
the high road and attributed his death to his habit of smoking five packs of
cigarettes a day, drinking gallons of coffee and eating fried eggs every day.
The disc also includes a separate
audio commentary by film historian and author Bryan Reesman. Reesman has a
mile-a-minute style of delivery that sometimes is hard to keep up with but his
commentary contains loads of information. There are a number of trailers included
on the disc including a “Trailers from Hell” for “In God We Trust” with Alan
Spencer.
This is an important Blu-ray
release that hopefully will inspire a reevaluation of “In God We Trust.”
Highly recommended.
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(Check out John M. Whalen's blog)