Welcome to "The X-Files," Vatican style.
In "Stigmata," dignitaries in the Catholic Church connive and conspire like the shady feds on the hit TV show. And in place of Mulder and Scully comes Father Andrew Kiernan (Gabriel Byrne), investigating supernatural occurrences and questioning his superiors. An ordained priest, Father Andrew is skilled in organic chemistry but never prays. Go figure.
Like the stars of the Fox show, Father Andrew travels around the globe examining paranormal phenomena. Only his focus is narrower: While Scully debunks aliens, Andrew disproves miracles. When "Stigmata" begins, he's investigating a case in Sao Paolo when he learns of a more interesting case in a neighboring village. In the local church, a statue of the Virgin Mary cries blood, apparently due to the recent death of its priest. Despite the clamor among village folk, Father Andrew manages to test the blood -- and it's real.
Cut to Frankie Paige (Patricia Arquette), a hairdresser living in Pittsburgh, who wakes after a night of partying to receive a package from her vacationing mother. And guess what -- Mom has sent a rosary belonging to the priest at the church with the bleeding statue, which she bought from a theiving kid. The crucifix immediately gives Frankie what she thinks might be morning sickness.
But potential pregnancy becomes the least of Frankie's worries when she has an attack of wild convulsions and bleeding while taking a bath. A doctor discovers identical puncture wounds going entirely through each of her wrists. Later, Frankie's friend accompanies her back to the apartment, which has flooded due to the running faucet of the bathtub; however, they ignore this and go straight to bed.
Frankie soon has another attack, this time in a subway car, where an invisible force flogs her in the back. To remove Father Andrew from the sensitive case of the statue, his boss, the diabolical Cardinal Houseman (Jonathan Pryce in "Why-am-I-here?" mode), sends him to investigate.
"Stigmata" has so many similarities to "The Exorcist" that director Rupert Wainwright is forced to construct a convoluted mess to avoid copying the 1973 classic outright. When Father Andrew discovers that Frankie is an atheist, he contends that she cannot be a true stigmatic, as those who experience Jesus' wounds are always deeply religious.
But he becomes convinced as Frankie's attacks continue, perhaps because she manages to stay in perfect health despite tremendous blood loss. Also, she starts scribbling Aramaic, the language of Jesus, and occasionally speaks with a deep, masculine voice. This has a remarkably convincing effect on the skeptical priest as well.
Eventually it becomes clear that Frankie's Aramaic is part of the gospel of Jesus's own words to his disciples at the Last Supper -- which, we are led to believe, the Catholic Church has in its possession but will not release. (No wonder the Vatican has protested this film.) Conspiracy theories aside, this plot complication is absurd. Are we to conclude that a benevolent spirit possesses Frankie to deliver the gospel of Jesus to the world but it likes to make her suffer for fun? The nonsensical script provides no rational reason for the affliction of wounds and hallucinations upon Frankie.
Even more baggage comes from the film's overwrought religious symbolism, which creates a highly artificial milieu -- like Madonna's "Like A Prayer" video blown up to feature length. The glossiness of the visuals coupled with some inexplicable actions on Frankie's part -- she repeatedly goes out partying after suffering the wounds of Jesus -- prevents true sympathy for her character.
"The Exorcist" delivered on this point by presenting a young girl who was practically ripped apart by a demon. The performances in "Stigmata" fail to engage the viewer: Arquette's acting only moves the story along, and Byrne does the best he can with a one-dimensional role.
"Stigmata" exemplifies a hastily thrown together project attempting to leech on the successes of recent works that have delved into the supernatural dark side. The entire premise of the story contradicts itself, ruining its chance for even superficial entertainment. Somebody grab the gauze, please.
Grade: D
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