Unlikely Christian, boxer-turned-aspiring-actor Stuart Long (producer Mark Wahlberg), turns Catholic for the wrong reason: to cozy up to devout girlfriend Carmen (Teresa Ruiz). Then, despite a debilitating accident, this trainwreck of a man turns priest for the right reason: to cozy up to God.

But God, apparently, has plans. Instead of a fulfilling life of ministry, Stu faces down an incurable, degenerative disease that cripples him, muscle by muscle, limb by limb. His mother, Kathleen (Australian actress Jacki Weaver) and estranged father (Mel Gibson), having lost Stu’s brother when he was but a child, helplessly look on as the strapping Stu crumbles before their eyes.

Other writers dwell on the plot, Wahlberg’s riveting performance and his spectacular transformation for the role. They critique debutant screenwriter-director Rosalind Ross’s pacing, her veering from the real Stu story and fault how her attempt to avoid being preachy, in a largely syrupy faith-based genre, ends up celebrating rather than clarifying Stu’s irreverence.

So, as we approach Stu’s 60th birth anniversary, it may help to aim off a bit and look closer at this unlikeliest of Hollywood parables about priests, priestly vocations and, yes, God. 

Divine calling

To Stu’s non-believer parents, religion is like citizenship; a passport with pluses and minuses, but one that can be swiftly surrendered in a sulk. Their grouse is against God who stole one son from them prematurely and threatens to steal the other. Their religion is disciplinarian: their faith rewards God when he’s “good” to them, their faithlessness punishes God when he’s “mean” to them.

Carmen warms to Stu’s ham-handed courtship, is ready to marry and have children by him, but only if he shares her faith. In a break from her otherwise empathetic character — horrified that her suitor is set on clergy life, not just conversion — Carmen chastises Kathleen: “Had you been awake enough to dignify his place in this world, in spite of the loss of your other son, he wouldn’t be so desperate to find himself.”

Everyone thinks Stu is fleeing failed or faltering ambitions (boxing, acting, marriage, family), seeking solace in a seminary. His gloveless verbal sparring with Monsignor Kelly (Malcolm McDowell) says otherwise; he isn’t running away from life, but toward God.

Self-centred Stu is like millions who’re certain that life begins and ends with the body. Conversion upends where he thinks his power lies. It isn’t in his six-pack athleticism, his ride-with-me looks, his fists, his hyperactive mind. Instead, it’s in an elusive something, closer to his heart, his will, his soul. And it sets him above lesser seminarians, separates his new self from his old. 

Spiritual battle

Critics fret that the film centres Stu’s journey to priesthood, not his journey as a priest. That’s missing the point. Ross and Wahlberg humanise Stu, make (and keep) him as fun, funny, and as flesh-and-blood as possible, with or without his cassock. To them, the most “consequential” moments occur during his wisecracking, swagger on his way to church, not amid his vows once inside. Even inside, his combativeness in the aisle matters more than his conviction at the altar, his striving down in the pew is more vital than his sermon up in the pulpit. 

Stu’s staying a priest is less fraught than his battle becoming one, especially when everyone’s competing to keep him collarless. That Stu changed others is a foregone conclusion. It’s how God changed him that fascinates; this film’s about Damascus, not Jerusalem. Stu’s clumsy tripping over the trainer-wheels of Catholicism (baptism, confession, penance) may resonate even with non-Catholics, but it challenges Catholics to interrogate their apathy toward what ought to be powerhouses of grace. 

Stu’s exchanges with fellow seminarians wrestling with their vocation, and his exchanges with God (as he wrestles with his infuriating disease) ought to be mandatory viewing for all young men and women, pious or not. Heartbreakingly, his family tries to tempt him away from God; how easy it is to be unfaithful to oneself, to family, to God. Isn’t that why we must stay true? Nothing great or good, comes easy.