What would Jesus do if his early years were told as an unremarkable horror film?
It would probably be another opportunity to forgive, along with the very easy act of forgetting “The Carpenter’s Son,” a dingy alt-biblical slog that doesn’t even have the kitschy sense to use Nicolas Cage properly as a paranoid Joseph who isn’t sure if his kid comes from the good place or the bad one.
Writer-director Lotfy Nathan’s inspiration is an apocryphal 2nd century text called the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, which purports to describe the incident-filled childhood of a temperamental Jesus. It’s never been widely accepted Christian canon, but there’s no reason why what isn’t holy scripture couldn’t be a holy-moly script. In the Egyptian-American filmmaker’s retelling, a mixed-up boy (Noah Jupe) running from persecution with his devout dad, the Carpenter (Cage), and ethereal mother (a blank-faced FKA Twigs) is a superhero in waiting, with a bloody gauntlet of nightmares to get through first.
One of those is surviving his own birth, presented here in a sequence of torchlit, squishy labor that’s far from the twinkly manger of Christmas-diorama harmony. Onscreen, the text reads “Anno Domini,” in case it’s not clear whose umbilical cord is getting cut. “They’re coming for him,” his papa intones. Mom’s anguished childbirth moaning segues to those of young women nearby having their babies ripped from their arms and thrown into a bonfire. Barely escaping the scrutiny of the king’s killers, this new family escapes.
A time shift takes us to when the boy is 15 (not to mention sullen, bored-looking and wracked by violent visions of crucifixion). Our trio lands in a remote settlement that affords them the chance at a simple life, albeit under the Carpenter’s strict precautions against evil spirits: boarded windows, lots of praying, staying clean and making sure the boy sticks to his schooling. Attractive mute girl Lilith (Souheila Yacoub) draws the lad’s peeping gaze. But then there’s the young androgynous figure with mysterious scars (Isla Johnston), who seems intent on giving the new kid lessons in rule-breaking, not to mention cynical guidance about his destiny.
“You know who I am, but who are you?” this coaxing stranger offers, which is like a playground retort twisted to sound pseudo-philosophical. Nathan, via his thoroughly pedestrian directorial style, never exactly masks who it is anyway. But it sure makes for monotonous viewing. Meanwhile, the petulant Jesus starts feeling his powers and is suddenly called a savior by some, a malevolent sorcerer by others. Mostly, he’s one more uninteresting movie juvenile.
With its flat location visuals, B-movie gore (snakes pulled from mouths) and colorless score, “The Carpenter’s Son” is the uninspired origin story you never prayed for. But it really feels like a wasted opportunity when Cage is onscreen, sporting what appears to be a middle-aged man’s attempt at a Rachel haircut, saddled with boring dialogue about faith and fear and generally behaving like a reformed maniac under sedation.
“The Carpenter’s Son” wants to mix it up with an invented (and what some might call blasphemous) narrative about that time Satan almost seduced brooding teenage Jesus. But not letting Cage go biblical? That’s some kind of sin against cinema.
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