Nathaniel Nate Tinner

Dr. Rex Butler

HIST5200
Love In the Time of Nero
I am of the persuasion that movies are a far better experience when they are enjoyed
without the preliminary benefit of research, including trailers, background information, plot
summaries, or even Wikipedia browsings (the latter being a favorite of mine). Thus, I entered the
experience that was Quo Vadis without much knowledge on what content it would contain, apart
from the brief description of it in class. Even from that short introduction, I expected a number of
things, including acting quality, dialogue, and narrative density worthy of an Oscar-nominated
film. In brief, I did feel the movie offered those things. But it is what I did not expect that
shocked me, and made me so desperately want to be able to recommend the film, even if just for
cinemas sake (as I do love a good movie). However, while I can easily see why we should watch
the film for the sake of deeper critical thinking about our courses subject matter, I cannot
recommend the film as an accurate portrayal of 1st-century Christianity.
That said, I didnt even realize the subject matter was 1st-century Christianity until a few
minutes in. I had assumed that the film would be set in an era of the Church of which we have
reliable historical records, perhaps during the third or fourth century, because it was mentioned in
class that the storyline involved at least one Christian. As it turned out, the movie was filled to
the brim with Christians (or at least the idea of their preponderance), and covered an era in which
I have a keen personal interest: the events surrounding and immediately following the narrative
of the book of Acts.
It was during the conversation with Paul in the house of the general that I realized I was
seeing for the first time a cinematic work depicting the Apostles after the death of Jesus. As an
average American evangelical, I had seen any number of depictions of Jesus life and the Passion
narrative, but never anything that attempted to describe the complex workings of the Church
proper as it grew and spread across the empire. Seeing Paul sitting on someones couch
discussing his travels and even other Apostles (namely Peter) seemed surreal and yet reminded
me of all that Id read concerning that period of time in the book of Acts. I suppose it was at this
same time I noticed what is perhaps the great discrepancy of all major films depicting early
Christianity: the Jews of the Levant likely did not resemble their Roman neighbors so closely. I
say perhaps because I really dont know what anyone would have looked like then, but it did
seem the characters nationalities reflected America in the late 1940s moreso than 1st-century
Rome.
This manner of discrepancy seemed to spill over into more than just the look of the
characters, but the placement of what other nationalities did appear. Though the Roman royalty
would almost certainly have been all White (in a similar sense to what we would understand as
such today), the fact that all other ethnicitiesincluding the smattering of Africansseemed to
be squarely in the position of slave, and did not seem to have a presence among the Christians.
This stands in stark contrast with the Acts narrative from which much of the story seems to
derive, in which Africans and other ethnic groups not only populate but in many cases help lead
the fledgling group. Perhaps this was not the case in Rome, but nevertheless the film did not
seem to have ethnic accuracy in mind.
On the subject of Africans, it also seemed odd where the narrative focused its moral
critiques of Roman civilization. This may have been heavily influenced by the issues facing

1940s America as well, which can only be expected with any film of any era. One scene in which
this was glaring was that in which Marcus is appalled at Lygias staunch monotheism, and
wonders aloud why how he might convince her he is not hostile to Christ; Peter, in Acts 2:37
fashion, is asked How do I prove Im not an enemy of her God? (now, perhaps this is not
exactly What must I do to be saved?, but its close enough). Inexplicably, Peter responds by
questioning Marcus about slaves, asserting that Jesus wishes no man to be in bongage. and
You cant buy human beings. Frankly, while these words sound fitting for the average
American evangelical today when speaking about chattel slavery, they are utterly anachronistic
coming from the mouth of Peter, who himself wrote to Christian churches referring to himself (2
Peter 1:1) and the whole Church (1 Peter 2:16) as slave(s)not to mention the direct
command for slaves to obey their masters whether they are good/gentle or perverse (1 Peter
2:18).
Alas, it seemed inevitable that such conundrums would arise within the film, once it
became clear that the story revolved around a romance. This is not to say Im against romance or
that romance did not occur in 1st-century Rome, but the economically-driven tendency for any
movie of note to have a romance driving the narrative likely doomed this film from the start. The
aforementioned scene with Peter confronting Marcus gave me some hope, as the scene ends with
Marcus defacing a cross (that, ironically, was almost certainly not the symbol of Christianity at
that time in history) and storming out of the house angrily. For a moment, it made me think that
the historical reality that Christianity largely trumped worldly desires would show through in the
film and Peters words about Marcus advances being nothing more than temptation would
characterize the rest of the film. Then I realized the movie was not even halfway over and that I
might be disappointed.
If there was anything historically redeemable about the film (and there was, as I already
noted), it was the intense foil of Lygia that was Nero. Not only was Peter Ustinov remarkable as
the one man of the era so self-interested as to call himself a god, but what I have read about Nero
seemed to come alive as his ego (if not the flames) burned Rome to the ground. The screenwriter
did seem to follow a distinctly unfavorable view of Nero in regards to the fire, but a position had
to be taken one way or the other, and his intense devotion to himself as the destruction of Rome
stood in contrast with the Christians intense devotion to Christ as the destruction of their mortal
bodies. In the end, I could only wish that the filmmakers could have let history stand as it truly
was, that Christians giving up their lives was in many cases the end of the story, a tragedy that
only spurred on the movement and exemplified the greatest love. Instead, by the end of the film,
the viewer is coerced to believe that romantic love is what triumphs, as Lygia is married by Peter
to the apparently-but-not-certainly converted Marcus and they are both saved from death just
before the deposing of Nero. This is pushed as the redemption of the Christian lives lost at the
hands of lions just moments before, and the eventual political triumph of Christianity is heavily
foreshadowed as Marcus regains his noble position.
It was somewhat overwhelming how condensed all these events became, in contrast with
the historical happenings themselves. Nero didnt die until several years after setting fire to
Rome, but the film obscures this fact to make it seem as if Christians were immediately targeted
and punished after the fire, and by a committee of Neros closest advisors, including a
particularly salacious wife who masterminded the frame job. Everyone loves a happy ending, but
surely not at the expense of the history of Gods people. Alas, I am comforted somewhat by the
knowledge that any filmmaker worth his salt must aim to please if they are to remain in

Hollywood, so I cannot expect reverence so much as selling points. Perhaps what offended me
most was the realization that many Christians today actually do think this way.
Ask the average Christian to define love and you will likely hear described a mere
emotion, a trait easily transferrable to the romantic passion experienced by Marcus and Lygia
and not so recognizable in their compatriots willingness to die for the cause of Jesus. Whats
more, Marcus love was clearly that of bare sexual desire or even lust at the time he first met
her (and Lygia more or less admitted she would by lying if she said she didnt reciprocate his
feelings, though her religionand better judgmentrestrained her). Would Peter really have
given his blessing to this union? This, the ultimate resolution in the story arc, was perhaps the
most damning inaccuracy.
Much like Mel Gibsons Passion of the Christ, this film was tasked with providing details
for events about which we have few, especially for use in a film (which requires dialogue,
scenery, and other niceties). Gibson, himself a Catholic, in many ways resorted to (if not happily
relied on) Catholic traditions to fill in the gapsnamely the varied Stations of the Cross that
led up to the Crucifixion. In Quo Vadis, we are supplied the traditional narrative of Peters own
passion, of which there was perhaps only one station, the revelation that he should return to
Rome to be martyred. This scene immediately brought to my mind our class discussion about the
obsession with martyrdom that became a snare in the minds of the earliest Christians; it seemed,
according to the tradition and the scene in the movie, that Peter returned to Rome with the
expressed purpose of being martyred, i.e. martyrdom for martyrdoms sake. I dont mean to
wantonly dismiss a seminal moment of purported Church history with a wave of my hand
(though, as a Protestant, sometimes I can't help myself), but for all the artistic license taken in the
film, it seemed odd that they chose to keep this theologically bizarre moment intact instead of a
more coherent alternative explanation.
In all, the film surprised me. That they filmmakers were bold enough to cover such a
crucial portion of Church history with limited ammunition is quite the harrowing task. I still have
not completely recovered from the scene in which Paul casually converses with Lygias family
about the events which built the Church from the ground up. It was a helpful reminder that these
were real historical people, interacting with a very pagan empire, empowered by a very real God.
Im sure that early Christians indeed faced all the struggle of romantic temptation, the boundary
between denying Christ to live another day and being fed to a lion, and the nagging possibility in
the back of their minds that Paul and Peter really were beggar-faced philosophers blabbering
on about figments of their imagination. Im glad that the film did not hide these elements, but
used them cleverly to drive the story along and represent not only the hope of a religion that
stood boldly in the face of an empire that was all too willing to worship perhaps the most
imperfect man available, but also the reality that power corrupts and can make the blood of the
innocent commonplace and mundane. I only wish that the thrust toward a typical Hollywood
ending had not obscured these realities and made romance the triumphant element amidst almost
comically modern moral themes. Even in the 1940s, it was easily proven on the silver screen that
Jesus was never really meant for Hollywood.