Religious-based films tend to have quite a bad reputation, especially in the last few decades, where they have come to be associated with not only cheap production value and poor filmmaking, but also overly conservative values that go against the more progressive nature of the mainstream film industry (or rather, the kind of armchair liberalism that tends to be associated with the industry, with much of the really progressive work being done in the independent sphere). Not only does the growing disdain towards faith-related films distract from the fact that there are some solid messages underpinning these films, it invalidates some of the incredible work done in previous decades by directors who used religion as a narrative tool to put together some truly stunning pieces of literature. It’s not surprising that the majority of these films were produced in Europe, mostly in Italy or Spain, as these nations are often driven by the principles of Roman Catholicism, which factors quite heavily into their art and culture. Roberto Rossellini, while not someone who was very dedicated to the Catholic faith, was a director who understood what it was precisely that made these Biblical stories so compelling, and allowed them to stand the test of time – and one of his finest films is The Flowers of St. Francis (Italian: Francesco, giullare di Dio), a film he made in collaboration with another iconic Italian filmmaker, Federico Fellini, who adapted two notable novels that centre on the life and times of St. Francis of Assisi, one of the most prominent icons in the Catholic faith. Together, they worked to construct a profoundly meaningful, deeply captivating glimpse into the life of the saint, following his journey over the course of a few years, and using his teachings as the foundation for a fascinating account of the power of faith, and how it functions both socially and psychologically.

The Flowers of St. Francis is certainly not a film that is bound to its faith-based origins – Rossellini, as mentioned above, was quite distant from any practising denomination, but was certainly interested in the concept of religious belief as a whole, and the ethical values that underpinned different religions. Essentially, The Flowers of St. Francis is not a Catholic film so much as it is a film that uses the teachings of the church to show the values on which society has been built. Along with Fellini, the director uses nine different parables from the two novels (Fioretti Di San Francesco and La Vita di Frate Ginepro, two definitive texts on St. Francis and his legacy as the pioneer of the Franciscan movement) to showcase the general teachings and how it relates to the world beyond the faithful, not restricting itself to just exploring his trials and tribulations – often being quite agnostic to the concept of tangible miracles – and focusing instead on leading a life of virtue and admiration for our world. It’s an approach that could be easily misunderstood as several loosely-connected vignettes that don’t have much to say, other than presenting fragments in the life of the titular saint. Yet, looking deeper we can find that there is so much more to be said about this than what we initially are led to believe. The intricate understanding of a particular time and place, while simultaneously looking above and beyond specific social or cultural confines (one of the main messages of this film, and many other similarly-themed works of art, is that these are stories that are universally applicable, regardless of our background), only serves to create a beautifully profound picture of faith, and how it can be integrated into our lives, beyond simply believing in a deity and following the teachings of those who advocated for such beliefs.

The principle of faith, rather than the belief, is what propels this film and makes it so compelling. Rossellini had a clear fascination with the material, and he manages to quite successfully weave together a beautifully profound story of how faith can impact our lives insofar as it guides it and sets a foundation. There isn’t any demonstration of implausible miracles, or clear evidence towards what these characters believe is real, and the director ensures that he keeps everything quite simple, which is analogous with the approach he took with most of his films, showing life in its most raw, unfiltered form. Italian neo-realism is a term applied more often to films like Bicycle Thieves and Rossellini’s own Rome, Open City, films that take place in urban centres, normally in the direct aftermath of the Second World War, demonstrating the damage to both the country and the national psyche. Yet, even though it might not meet most of the traditional criteria to be categorized as such, The Flowers of St. Francis employs a similar principle – it is a deep, thoughtful look into the lives of people who dedicated their time to spreading the word of God, which had less to do with relitigating old Biblical stories, and more spreading a message of empathy and kindness. There are some sequences that may work better than others (the centrepiece is a vignette in which one of the friars goes in search of people to preach the gospel to, and runs into a population of barbarians, who are presented as animalistic and callous, perhaps not the best approach to looking at non-believers, but still an effective one), but as a whole, the image Rossellini is portraying is one that holds a lot of relevance, especially if we’re able to look beyond the specific narrative confines and understand the message being conveyed.

Rossellini’s fascination with representing reality on screen extended to The Flowers of St. Francis, insofar as while he may not have been able to capture real-life depictions of St. Francis and his followers, he did employ certain methods to make sure that what we saw on screen with as authentic as possible. This mainly manifested in the use of non-professional actors in the main roles (one of the cornerstone components of neo-realism, and something the director and many of his contemporaries were known to do regularly). In this case, the roles of the Franciscan monks are played by real friars from that order, men of the cloth that had never previously acted before, but lent their insights and understanding of the faith to tell the story of their founder of their movement. It’s a joyful experience to see these men preaching the beliefs they have dedicated their entire lives to exploring – there is a genuine honesty to their performances that makes us question how much of this was written by Fellini and Rossellini, and how much came directly from the friars as well (it’s well-recorded that, upon setting out to make this film, the screenwriters had a script with only about 71 lines of dialogue). The content of The Flowers of St. Francis may not be revolutionary, and anyone who has seen this kind of faith-driven drama will be aware of how these stories tend to transpire. It’s the execution that makes the most profound difference, with Rossellini making use of his unconventional stars and their wealth of knowledge to extract the most meaning from these parables. One doesn’t even need to know that these aren’t professional actors, but rather men who have dedicated their lives to their faith, to realize what they are saying, and the teachings they are spreading, come from a genuine place of knowledge and insight, which only makes this a more engrossing, compelling work of character-driven storytelling.

The Flowers of St. Francis is a truly gripping film, and one that may appear to be targetted as a specific kind of viewer (those who are either of the faith, or at least interested enough to see a series of vignettes all centring around Catholic teachings), but actually is far more accessible than it would appear. It doesn’t necessarily advocate for blind faith in a specific deity, but rather suggests living a life based on some strong moral and ethical values that are often attributed to religion, but are ultimately related to the concept of compassion, generosity and empathy. This is what Rossellini was in search of when he made The Flowers of St. Francis, and he certainly managed to achieve it quite beautifully. If there was someone who could seamlessly weave together artistic expression with the virtuous teachings of Christianity, then it would certainly be Rossellini, a director whose style reflects a keen curiosity of the world around him, and the frequent motivation to represent it as accurately as he could, even going so far as to forego elaborate cinematic tricks or collaborations with wildly popular movie stars, all for the sake of reflecting reality in a way that felt genuine. The Flowers of St. Francis is not his most famous film, nor is it his best – but as a powerful ode to the human spirit and our innate ability to work through any crisis, it is absolutely stunning, and a truly poetic piece of cinema that may look like a simple, faith-based drama, but actually hides a lot of revolutionary commentary that goes above and beyond the Bible-based foundation, and instead is in search of something far more compelling and relatable to every viewer, regardless of our own individual background or relationship with the concepts that serve as the basis for this stunning film.