Centuries ago, communities had a very different relationship with their local churches. Think about it. Any given church may have taken over a century to build at a point when that represented maybe three generations of people in the same family. Imagine that: your grandfather started work on a building that your father spent all his life constructing, and which you got to finish off. In our world of constant change, such continuity is unthinkable. Not only that, but this would have been at a time when you’d have been lucky to see what passes for a local town: the world was a smaller place.

And what happened in that church? It was a special building, and the only place you’d get to see something amazing: the effect of light coming through coloured glass, through windows depicting stories that a preacher said were integral to society, even though you couldn’t understand the language he told those stories in. But you knew those stories were about someone called Jesus, and that he died for the sins of humanity. And because he’d done that, he could offer mortals redemption for what they’d done too.

All of this would happen in a place where people were quiet except when it came to signing hymns and saying prayers. And that, and the stained glass, gave it an atmosphere unlike anywhere else you’d have known. It really was a special place.

At this point, some of you will be worrying that I’ve gone and got religion and will be changing the name of this blog to something less occult, but have no fear. This is all by way of articulating something about the experience of cinema that interests me.

The church is pretty much defunct as an influence on society. But we still want or need stories to live by, and the experience of redemption. And we can get it, again by going to a building that’s set apart from others, where people are quiet and stories are told by light playing through glass…

People go to the cinema for all kinds of reason. But if you think about the commonality of the stories they experience there, one connecting factor is that many of them are about redemption. One of the most popular films with the public is The Shawshank Redemption, and how many films feature redemptive character arcs for their protagonists? As viewers we can’t get enough of that stuff, and experience redemption vicariously by watching others go through it in their own fictional journeys. Only, the nervous system can’t detect the difference between fact and fiction, and - to a greater or lesser extent, depending on the artistry of the film in question, and the way it resonates with our own lives - we respond to what’s happening as if it was happening to us. Doesn’t even have to be a recognisable human for us to feel that empathy, as the success of Finding Nemo and Bambi indicates.

All of which puts the experience of making and watching films in a different light. Films offer the prospect of redemption in a secular society. Somewhere along the line, we all feel bad about stuff we’ve done, or stuff that’s been done to us, and want to be absolved for it. Churches frankly don’t cut the mustard with their limited repertoire of devices, which only appeal to believers. Leaving it to filmmakers to perform a function that was once seen in spiritual terms, and with our growth into a more complex society is viewed more as a function of psychology…even though to most of the people involved, as makers or audiences, what really matters is entertainment. Which kind of begs the question, what is it we want from our entertainment, and why is it that redemption features so heavily as an aspect of it?