The image of pastors in most popular entertainment isn't a good one. Aside from the tiny roles as ministers who marry or bury, men of the cloth - either Protestant or Catholic - tend to fall into stereotypes. They're usually fundamentalist Bible bangers or blue-nosed legalists, hypocritical or even deranged, or mild-mannered and ineffectual milquetoasts. And how many are ongoing television characters? I can think of only tw 7th Heaven's Rev. Eric Camden, played by Stephen Collins, the generic mainline Protestant pastor and father, seemed to have majored in Bland Theology in seminary. He typified the non-specific style of pastoral characterization necessary in television shows seeking to appeal to the broadest possible audience while offending the fewest. And of course there's The Simpsons' Rev. Lovejoy, the pastor of the First Church of Springfield. Lovejoy is a burnt-out case, judgmental and testy, straining under the burden of being the vehicle for all kinds of jokes aimed at all kinds of Christian churches.  Pastors are even rarer as major characters in the movies. That's why a film like Into Temptation is worth noting, and watching.  

Filmed in Minneapolis by Minnesota native Patrick Coyle, who also wrote the screenplay, the film's main character is Catholic priest. While hearing confession one day, Father John Buerlein, played by Jeremy Sisto (Law & Order), meets a woman, (played by Broadway star Kristen Chenoweth) who states that she wants absolution for the suicide she is planning to commit on her birthday. She unfolds her horrendous life story of how she was raped by a family member as a child and ended up as a call girl. Father John is devastated by her story and afterwards it continues to haunt him. 

Father John finally decides he must try to seek her out and try to stop her self-destruction. However, he doesn't know her name and has only seen through the confessional screen the lower half of her face and the crucifix she was wearing. Thus he must become something of a detective, going to the seamy side of town and inquiring of its sordid inhabitants. Though he is dressed in "civilian" clothes and not his clerical collar, he exudes an unworldly and naïve attitude to the jaded denizens who are slow to respond to him. When one of John's parishioners sees him on these mean streets, it appears he is leading a double life and, ironically, his reputation is at risk. At times, his safety is also in jeopardy, as he is a lamb among wolves.

This is the also the story of the price the shepherd pays when he leaves the 99 sheep to seek out the single lost one. Early in the film, Fr. John visits the church of a fellow priest, a silver-tongued preacher who pastors an affluent church in a much nicer neighborhood than John's inner-city one. His friend preaches on how Jesus wasn't afraid of being seen with tax collectors and other reviled sinners. Following in Christ's footsteps, Fr. John descends into places and meets people few of us will ever encounter as he seeks clues as to who the suicidal woman is—and why she seemed strangely familiar to him.

Along the way, we see that John, though strong in his faith, reveals the imperfections of any human servant of God. In a counseling session with a male parishoner, he mentions that his father left his mother before he was born. "Angry about that?" asks the man. "No," John answers, a little too quickly, "Why would I be?  I never knew the guy." Though he models his Master, Fr. John is a relatable human hero. Sisto makes him a down-to-earth, slightly cracked vessel whom we admire and care about. 

Chenoweth, herself a professing Christian, is cast against her sunnier image. She believably plays the intriguing call girl, Linda, who is meticulous in her methodical preparations for her death. The movie cuts back and forth between the sheep and shepherd naturally raising the suspense level even if we assume we know how the story must end. Yet, Doyle's narrative contains an unexpected turn that demonstrates the surprising ways that God's grace is like a bit of leaven that, though dropped into one part of life soon spreads in ways that touch lives in ways known only to God.  It reminds us that the good we do in this life may reap blessings for others but which we may never see in this life.

Into Temptation reminded me a little of the Robert Bresson's classic French film, Diary of a Country Priest, in its rendering of a solitary minister's lonesome mission. Make note, though, Bresson's austere style is more challenging for most moviegoers. Doyle's is a more accessible American indie version of the same idea.

This is a film about seeking redemption, and it doesn't shirk from showing the world from which redemption is needed. Therefore there are a few instances of vulgar and profane language and one brief scene of near total female nudity, which as presented, allows you to see through the eyes of the protagonist. The film's small release kept it from getting more than a handful of web reviews and no major critical responses. I only heard of it from my favorite blogger, James Lileks, whose daughter has a small role as an extra, as does Lileks himself, whose comments about the film are here. But it's available at Netflix, among other places, and subscribers can watch it in streaming video there. It's a rewarding and artistic depiction of a pastor who breaks the Hollywood mold.