Rosary Murders Revisit

 Donald Sutherland plays this aching priest burdened by the confession of a serial killer of clergy, tormented by the sanctity and protection of the confessional, hoping to somehow investigate the death of a 16 year old suicide due to incest by her father, holding priests and nuns responsible, and stop the madness without breaking that church law.

I'm not Catholic, so protecting murderers and psychos makes zero sense to me. The same for therapists who might stop their client from killing people. But I think this film really gets into the complexities of that, and the film's mood, it's dreary Detroit late 80s, automotive blue collar, somber and depressing feel just sets upon me. Donald's the least person I could imagine being a priest so for him to pull it off, I applaud the work. He and Durning, who adheres to the discipline and strict principles of Church Law, often go at it. Such as when an unwed mother wants her baby baptized. And this confessional just eats away at him. Also there is a subplot I really like featuring Belinda Bauer as a chain-smoking exreporter who works initially on the rosary murders story before superiors (men) replace her. She has such a sadness about her, a loneliness, really mirroring Sutherland. There is an attraction, a connection, between them that can't be fulfilled.

The presence of what Scorsese popularized as Catholic guilt, and how the film's setting, story, and Sutherland's performance is conveyed as droopy-soul, weathered, worn-out, I really seem to be one if it's few champions. Most find it plodding, dull, with a lack of energy or vitality. I see this film as an examination on questioning if the confessional should be sacrosanct. Those of us who aren't Catholic remain puzzled by the protection of awful people who use the confessional as a tool, or even a plaything, knowing they won't be reported.

There are scenes where Sutherland just drops keys, wallet, change, and rosaries on a desk in a shabby, cluttered office that speak to the enveloping weariness of the job. Spiritual joy is nowhere to be found. Durning seems to operate the duties as a job, rarely summoning up any oomph for the ministry.

Getting to the truth of the killer just further develops Sutherland's malaise. Josef Sommer as the cop trying to catch the killer, dying for Sutherland to tell him the identity, also wears the job on his face, how he talks and walks. The billboard with all the victims really hits with a punch because it is so matter of fact.