Generally, when a camera breaks on a film set, the first move is to call the technicians. Not so on Letters to God. When equipment went wrong on that film — a based-on-a-true-story weepie about a cancer-stricken child whose missives to the almighty redeem an alcoholic postman — the drill was: pray first, check the fuses later. But it wasn’t just techies falling to their knees. It was religious professionals.
“We had prayer warriors on set every day,” says director David Nixon, “people who knew nothing of filmmaking, but who knew how to pray. When I’d yell ‘Action’, they’d go into action and start praying. They’d pray for the actors. They’d pray for the family of the little boy, who were there every day. And when I’d turn to them and see they were grinning from ear-to-ear, or they were bawling their eyes out, I knew we had something special.”
Indeed. On release in the United States in April Letters to God was a shock entry in the box office Top 10. It became the most widely distributed faith film since The Passion of the Christ in 2004. Foreign distribution rights have been sold in territories as far-flung as South Africa, Slovenia and the Middle East, where it’s to be retitled Letters to Allah.
It’s the most instantly accessible release in the current slate of Mission Pictures, a distribution company which aims to become the worldwide brand for faith films. Created by Cindy Bond and Chevonne O’Shaughnessy, veterans of secular distribution, it’s both a reaction to what many see as the baseness of Hollywood’s address to audiences and an appeal to the wallets of the about 100-million Americans — and more overseas — who define themselves as Christian.
In fact, Letters to God‘s domestic box office has already been trumped by another film on Mission’s slate, the teen salvation tale, To Save a Life.
The Way Home, a coming thriller starring Dean Cain as a dad who finds God when he mislays his toddler, looks set to better them both. The figures aren’t enormous, yet. But when you consider the possibilities for home entertainment sales and broadcast rights and the minuscule budgets (rarely more than a million dollars), the profit margins become boggling.
“Align the content with the target market,” says Bond and you have a “great business model”. A dedicated fanbase absorbs the virtues of a movie from the pulpit — Mission Pictures has close ties with ministries worldwide and provides worship packs to accompany releases — and the members won’t be shy about spreading the word.
Not only is it a captive audience, but a forgiving one, too. “The audience wants quality filmmaking,” says Bond, “but they’ll even forgive quality if the story resonates and that emotional connection happens.”
You’d be forgiven for a feeling of déjà vu on hearing Mission’s good news. The huge success of Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ means others have had this idea. And their confidence has meant some have come a cropper.
Steven Gaydos of the Hollywood trade paper, Variety, says: “It’s a vibrant market, but that doesn’t mean you automatically reap riches by releasing a faith-based film.”
FoxFaith, News Corp’s faith movies outfit, was launched in 2006 and kicked things off with four ambitiously wide releases. But the critics jeered, audiences failed to flock and FoxFaith’s projects have tapered off in recent years. So why do Mission’s stand a better chance?
For a start, the climate is different. Viral marketing, in which would-be punters are encouraged to “demand a screening”, makes it easy to mobilise an audience. The economic downturn means people are hungrier for tales of everyday folk overcoming adversity.
Recession has also left a hole in filmmaking: studios still fund blockbusters, but low-budget dramas are harder to get off the ground. And filmmakers will go where they can get paid. Faith films may not be critically credible, yet, but some of the same people work on them, pseudonymously, as do on hipper indie movies.
But the key to Mission’s success lies, perhaps, in FoxFaith’s one bona fide success, The Ultimate Gift (2006), an intergenerational wealth-transfer fable, no less, about a filthy rich but morally stainless old oil baron who wants to bequeath his billions to his grandson but fears cash may corrupt him (solution: he shoots a series of beyond-the-grave advice videos). It beat both Letters and To Save a Life at the box office.
“There is something emerging,” says Gaydos, “of which faith films are only a part. Inspirational stories are the real market. The definition of faith movies will morph a bit — they’ll become edgier and darker and more complex. They’ll succeed because the market of people who consider themselves to be ‘spiritual’ makes the Christian market even bigger.” A message based on self-help is woolly enough not to scare away the unconvinced and it also introduces surprising notes of genuine inquiry: “I wish everyone would stop telling me to pray,” says the mother in Letters. “It’s not saving my son.”
Movies are made to make money. Mission’s films aren’t evangelical tools, part of a grand crusade — they’re designed to plug a gap in the market. And recognition of this financial imperative also explains why Mission is keen for them to dovetail with the kids’ market.
“Year in, year out family films outperform every other genre,” Bond says. “I love it, because it’s under-served but it’s the most profitable part of the industry.”
And so The Passion, the benchmark for all faith filmmakers, looks more and more like an anomaly. It’s not a family flick and it’s a strikingly bloody one to boot. These elements — as well as an overt concern with the supernatural — make it superficially more similar to mainstream films. — Guardian News & Media 2010
Letters to God opens at South African cinemas on July 30