Our Faith in Evil: Melodrama and the Effects of Entertainment Violence

If, as Freud tells us, aggression and sex are innate drives in all of us, then violence is innate to humans and probably unavoidable. The question Gregory Desilet deals with is to what extent violence is usefully construed as evil and to what extent it is encouraged by films. His massive 26 chapter study of “Our Faith in Evil” begins by establishing the method he will use to investigate his cinematographic theme. The methods section is written in a careful, measured way that makes it accessible to most readers. Desilet then divides the rest of the study into two major parts. In part one he argues his case and defines his terms. In this section of the book, he is at his most philosophical and psychological. Happily, he does not fall into the academic habit of using obscure and arcane language. Instead, he is lucid, fluent, and eminently readable.

What is fascinating about this part of the book is the depth to which Desilet goes to deal with our fascination with evil. He excavates everything from the significance of “defilement” in the Hebraic tradition to the notion of evil in “Cinderella.” He regularly dips into the evil in closer neighborhoods with his investigations of corporations, sports, and comic books. However, he also investigates the origin of evil in the more remote provinces of the metaphysical and draws upon theorists such as Aristotle, Plato, and Kenneth Burke.

In Part Two, Desilet brilliantly and deftly illustrates his case by examining a series of films well known for their horrific and/or effective use of evil. These chapters advance Desilet’s exploration of the relationship between violence and evil in melodrama. The impact of that nexus on society begins in Chapter 8 and runs through Chapter 13 on a theoretical level. The film analysis section shows this theory brought down to earth in your local theater or home entertainment center. His incisive analysis of such classics as “Psycho,” “The Silence of the Lambs,” and “Pulp Fiction” provide original readings full of insights. His treatment of more difficult to categorize films, such as “Bonnie and Clyde” and “The Passion of the Christ” are innovative and rewarding. Having written on “Bonnie and Clyde” myself, I found Desilet’s revisionist assessment to be accurate about the context and the ideological agenda of the film. Unlike the consensus that has emerged over the years, he condemns the film because of the bad name it gives nonconformists. By the time you complete Part Two, you feel empowered to take on new films yourself. These exhilarating interpretations should not overshadow the truly informative sections of the first part of the book that examine theories of construction of evil in film.