Starring Boris Kodjoe, Clifton Powell. Written and directed by Rob Hardy. (G) 107 min. Opened Dec 2.
It’s a great idea for a script: a successful director of
disreputable erotic thrillers sinks his heart and soul into an
uplifting crowd-pleaser about warmth, piety and family values. Such are
the circumstances surrounding the production of The Gospel, which plays
like an attempt by writer-director Rob Hardy to atone for his previous,
profitable soft-core debacles Trois and Pandora’s Box. How else to
interpret a film in which a salacious, booty-calling R&B star,
David Taylor (Boris Kodjoe), chooses the earthy comforts of a modest
Atlanta church over the earthly delights of the secular world?
Hardy may fancy himself a prodigal son, but he’s no prodigy:
The Gospel is badly written, flatly directed and embarrassingly
mawkish. David’s return to the fold is occasioned by the illness of his
father (Clifton Powell), a respected bishop whose admirably old-school
attitude towards faith-mongering (“we need to spend less time looking
good, and more time being good”) does not extend to his ambitious but
corruptible successor Charles (Idris Elba), David’s childhood pal. He’s
fine with looking good, and the bishop’s death gives him an opening to
overhaul his cash-strapped chapel and congregation in his own vainly
inflated self-image. Luckily, David puts the kibosh on his former
friend’s power grab, assembling an all-star cadre of gospel stars for a
fundraising concert. The church is saved, but sadly, this maladroit
movie is beyond redemption.