Martin Scorsese on the sense of wonder in filmmaking

By Martin Scorsese

When I think of The Last Temptation of Christ now, of course I think of it as something apart from my other pictures.

And it is apart — but it’s very special. Why? Because whenever anyone deals with Jesus as a character directly, there’s a mystery. It’s mystery territory, and it will always be something uncharted. It will always be a question, I think.

And the question is: what is the life of Jesus? And that, of course, opens up more questions. What are the events in the Gospels? To what extent is his story, as we understand it, narrative? To what extent was Jesus human? Was he human, and to what extent was he divine? Fully human and fully divine. That particular question was at the core of my approach.

That is what really excited me about Kazantzakis’s novel the first time I read it. Fully human, fully divine — and the last temptation was simply to lead a normal life, because a normal life, in most cases, is very, very blessed.

I use the word “approach,” but “attempt” might be the better word, because that is what we are all doing when we depict Jesus, whether it’s in a novel or a poem, a piece of music, a painting, or a film.

When I was finally able to get the picture made, I hoped that some people would open themselves to it and accept it as an attempt made with a really deep love, and with a sense of awe that has been with me since I was very young — an attempt to begin a dialogue about Jesus. A serious dialogue, a good dialogue. To rethink and to bring Jesus into our hearts, our lives, and our souls in the present.

I didn’t want it to be just the image of a picture of Jesus on the wall, something we have no connection with.

Instead, it became a big controversy. You can’t imagine how much it meant to me to be received so warmly by Pope Francis, to be welcomed at the Vatican, and to find a good friend in Fr. Antonio Spadaro.

So, I am heartened to know that this screening is taking place. I really am sorry that I can’t be with you in person, and I would like to thank Pierluigi De Pasquale for the terrific book that he wrote on it, and Father Spadaro for his abiding friendship. And I’d like to thank you all for coming here tonight to see it.