A Review of Cabrini -- A saintly biopic marred by boring Hollywood tropes

Mother Cabrini (played by Cristiana Dell'Anna) receives the reply of
Pope Leo XIII (played by Giancarlo Giannini)

My wife and I went to see Cabrini last night. Given the mixed yet passionate reaction to the film by a variety of folks whose opinions I respect, I was looking forward to it. Having now seen it, I think the mixed reaction is completely appropriate.

My reaction was also mixed, though tending more toward the negative. 

On the positive side, the film had a lot of spoken Italian in it which was fun. It was also well acted and beautifully shot, with a moving soundtrack that reminded me of a cross between The Village and Master and Commander. Though there have been some complaints that Catholic spirituality is not overtly put into the mouth of a Catholic saint (a valid complaint to be sure), Catholic spirituality saturates the background of the film. There are crosses and other Catholic symbols in practically every scene, and several scenes take place in beautiful Catholic churches and buildings. So we end up with some beautiful Catholic settings for a not particularly Catholic film.

The lead role was well played by Cristiana Dell'Anna who provided a convincing likeness of Mother Cabrini. Pope Leo XIII is played sympathetically by Giancarlo Giannini, though I thought he resembled Pope Pius IX more than Leo XIII.

That said, I felt that the film was too dark and brooding for the story of a Catholic saint. The first third of the film is purposely dark, focusing on Mother's illness and all of the "no" answers she receives from the men who are in positions of authority over her. The film does lighten up in spots, but the overall ambience is darkness and obscurity.

What truly drove Mother Cabrini was left largely unexplored. The inferences one must draw from the film are the typical boring Hollywood tropes -- follow your heart; don't let the naysayers get you down; I am woman, hear me roar. The film presents a woman primarily motivated by an altruistic desire to help other Italians. So rather than being driven by the Gospel message of Jesus Christ to take care of the poor, Mother is portrayed, rather, as the celibate CEO of an Italian NGO in America. There is also an insinuation that she is at least partly driven by spite. Every time she faces an obstacle, the Cabrini in the film hears in her head an admonition given early in the film by a patriarchal archbishop: "Stay where you belong." This very worldly urge, rather than any divine inspiration, seems to motivate her to do bold things.

The film also spent considerable time building up the Italian immigrant-as-victim trope. While nativist sentiments were no doubt major obstacles for the first waves of Italian immigrants coming to America, there was another issue at play that the film studiously avoids: the hatred of Catholics by the largely Masonic ruling elite. (This particular angle was effectively brought to the fore in the film For Greater Glory, another imperfect though more inspiring film.) Though forty years after the height of the KnowNothing period when Catholic churches were torched in several cities, there was still a strong antipathy toward Catholics among the upper echelons of American society that persists to this day. While it wasn't long before Italians were accepted as Americans, devout Catholics have never really been. If you need evidence of that, consider the overtly anti-Catholic emails of Hillary Clinton campaign chair, John Podesta in 2016, or how our current "Catholic" president's Department of Justice classifies traditional Catholics among potential terrorist groups. 

As other reviewers have pointed out, the filmmakers also managed to turn Mother Cabrini into something of a Mary Sue. Whatever she accomplishes, she does via the force of her own powerful will. She draws her strength not from God nor from the Gospel, but from within herself. That is not a Catholic mentality at all, and I'm sure the real Mother Cabrini would have been horrified at being portrayed that way. This seems to have been done in service to a narrative that is not in keeping with the actual life of the saint.

Finally, the ending of the film was anti-climactic and strange. 

SPOILER ALERT -- stop here if you don't want to read what happens at the end...

In the movie, Mother Cabrini achieves her final victory via political blackmail -- threatening the mayor of New York that she will unleash a negative publicity campaign against him and work to get him defeated in the next election unless he allows her hospital project to go forward. She also indicates that she is willing to help him if he helps her -- a sort of "pay to play" arrangement. The fictitious Mayor Gould (who is portrayed effectively by John Lithgow as a racist political animal) is impressed by Mother's rather savvy tactics and agrees to her terms. I have no idea how much of this scenario is based on reality, but it didn't strike me as a particularly fitting denouement to a biopic of a Catholic saint. 

So overall, I give Cabrini two stars. It's worth watching once, but having now seen it, I have no desire to see it again. Instead, I'll go and read more about The Intense Catholic Spirituality of Mother Cabrini.

The Intense Catholic Spirituality of Mother Cabrini ~ "How grateful we should be to Christianity, which has raised the dignity of woman."

Photo of St. Frances Xavier Cabrini from the frontispiece
of Travels of Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini.

Yesterday marked the opening of a new film by Angel Studios — Cabrini — and the film has already generated an impressive amount of buzz. Considering the Catholic content of the film, this is somewhat surprising but in a very good way.

I haven't seen the film yet, but I intend to over the next week. I'm told that local theaters are basically sold-out this weekend.

Of course, nothing produced with religious content is without controversy. Cabrini is being promoted as a sort-of feminist anti-Barbie, which is an interesting tactic. This indicates that the filmmakers are attempting to broaden the audience beyond the Christian core, out to the larger market of pop-culture agnostics and nones. Of course, that tactic will not please everyone, and one of the criticisms of the film that has already emerged is that the feminist angle is played up to the detriment of the spiritual angle. Indeed, it is claimed that the film makes almost no reference to Mother Cabrini's intense spiritual life.

Again, I haven't seen the film yet, so I can't comment on that. If Mother Cabrini's spiritual life is cast into shadow by the film, that is a shame. However, it nevertheless presents a golden opportunity to set the record straight. Anyone who has their curiosity piqued by the film should certainly delve deeper into the life and works of this holy apostle to the Italian immigrants.

Interested viewers might take a look at her letters which may be found in a book from the 1940s entitled Travels of Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini: Foundress of the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Following is an example which demonstrates how much Mother Cabrini's thoughts were permeated through-and-through by the power of Almighty God and how, for her, every event was an inspiration to advance in the spiritual life.

This charming letter was written from aboard a steamer en route from Paris to New York in 1890, and addressed to "her dear daughters" — the Missionary Sisters of The Sacred Heart, The Alumnae and Students of the Teachers' College in Rome. By this point, Mother and her sisters had been on the water for three days and were encountering rough seas:

Monday, April 21st. 

Here we are; the see-saw has started, moved by the almighty hand of God: willy nilly we have to play the game. Yesterday about five o’clock in the afternoon the sea began to be a real sea. It was not possible to stand on your feet without leaning on something for support. Already five hours have elapsed since Sister Eletta began to pray God to calm the sea. But now, seeing such a frightful spectacle, she is lost for words, and thinks the best thing to do is to go to bed as the other Sisters have done.

I remain firm and always keep on deck. I made them laugh so much that Sister Eletta said she felt almost better. After supper, about six o’clock, I wanted to see the other good Sisters, and, following their example, I began to feel sea-sick. Patience! Twice I was obliged to resign myself to their company.

Sister Assunta looks like a soul full of thoughts and weariness. Sister Giovannina is always laughing, even when she is very sick. Sister Agostina also smiles. Sister Bernardina is just like one dead, so is Sister Battistina! Sister Ignatius tries to endeavour to follow my example, but after a time she has to run for her life, or else stay in the cabin so as not to fall. Of all the passengers on board, both men and women, only six or seven come to the table.

It is dreadful if we do not try to resist this sickness; the best plan is to stay on deck; even if it rains, it is better to remain in the open. Last night, I stayed until after midnight, partly dressed (because I believed a storm was threatening), so as to be ready to save myself and all; but the good God is continually watching over His Spouses. The great swing subsided though the gale beat all round us.

I rose early this morning to go on deck to view the wonderful spectacle. Oh! how beautiful is the sea in its great motion! How the waves swell and foam! Enchanting! The wind is, however, favourable, and the boat goes so quickly, it seems to fly. If you could only see the waves! None of us could stay at the stern because the waves swept over the vessel at every moment. At the bows it is not so bad, and, stretched in an armchair, I can write fairly well. A single wave could submerge all, but He Who has created the sea and has commanded it to rise like mountains, would not permit His beloved creatures to be drowned, much less His loving Spouses.

God loved us before He created the sea; nay, He created the sea itself for our use and pleasure. He has chosen us for His Spouses, and we have answered His call, attracted by His infinite lovableness. Let us remain, my daughters, entirely subject to Him, conquered by His love; and let us run swiftly in His footsteps. The good God has perpetually loved us with the love of predilection, so let us love Him and serve Him with joy during the few days of our life.

If you were all here with me, dear daughters, to cross the immense ocean, you would exclaim, ‘‘Oh, how great and loving is God in all His works!'’ But the ocean of graces, oh, my daughters, that the good Jesus pours down upon us, in every instant of our life, is immensely superior to anything in nature. All natural splendours are eclipsed by the abundance of riches which God showers upon His beloved Spouses.

Let us venerate and love, then, our excellent state, and let us examine ourselves frequently and remove all defects that are unbecoming the Virgins of Christ, so that our Beloved may quickly introduce us into the Holy of Holies and plant charity in our souls. [Travels of Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini, pages 5-6]

Here is an excerpt from another letter by St. Frances Cabrini, deeply imbued with the wisdom of one who knows that children must be brought up in virtue. This one addressed to the students of the Teachers' College in Rome, and dated May 1904:

How great, noble, exalted, is the mission you are called to accomplish in this world! To you. Our Divine Lord addressed the words He spoke to His Apostles one day, "I have chosen you so that you will bear fruit and that your fruit will remain.”

Reflect a little with me on the predilection of God for you in this call, "I have chosen you," not "you have chosen Me." In fact, He did not wish that during your studies you should be exposed to the poisonous atmosphere of the world. He has drawn you into His own House, so that you could breathe into your souls its salubrious atmosphere. There you prepare yourselves for the mission you are to fulfill in Society.

To many of you, already, we may say, despite our great regret at parting from you, "Go and bear fruit," for you are already fortified against the world’s dangers by the solid instruction you have received. But what fruit will you bear? However small your experience is of the world, still you see that the multitude is insensible, forgetting God. But how much good cannot a wise teacher do to repair this, the greatest of evils, if to her mental culture and her intellectual gifts she adds that of a soul solidly founded and frankly Christian and religious.

She knows as the immortal and lamented Pontiff Leo XIII, said that we cannot renew Solomon’s judgment on the child by the cruel and unjust separation of the intellect and the will. She knows that while she cultivates her mind, she is bound to direct her will at acquiring virtue to obtain the last end. She knows that those who have not received in their early years the impressions of Religion, grow up without having even the slightest idea of those high truths which alone can awaken in them the love of virtue and the control of the passions. She then makes her sweet influence felt in the school, aided by the grace of the Holy Ghost, and silently mould those young hearts which, soft as wax, are ready to receive impressions. Here you perceive the great responsibility of those who neglect their duty, for it is difficult to eradicate these early impressions.

This is the fruit which you are called upon to bring forth in the Church, with this difference, however, that whilst a simple teacher has only to instruct her class of children, you have the responsibility of educating the future teachers, and consequently have a wider field wherein to sow your seed, which will thus spread more rapidly and bear more fruit. As such you are associated with the great work of the Christian Apostolate. Thus you enter the ranks of those generous champions who at the command of our great Leader and His Vicar on earth, fight bravely to restore the world to Christ.

How far the world is from Him who is the Way, the Truth and the Life, is better understood by one who has to travel so to speak, from one end of the world to the other. [Travels of Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini, pages 239-240]

This letter also contains a brief reflection on the history and nature of womanhood which, given the film's seeming focus on feminism, it seems appropriate to quote. In this reflection, Mother Cabrini begins with her observation of the status of women among the Coeur d’Alenes, an American Indian tribe of eastern Washington State, as follows:

The Indian woman, as in all those nations which have not received the light of faith, has to work while the man quietly smokes his pipe. The poor woman and mother of many little ones, who are too small to stand, is forced to tie her offspring round her waist in a sack, and in this unconventional way has to do her washing. If the baby cries, she moves it with a shrug of her shoulders and thus quiets it. This is the way the Indian baby is fondled.

See how grateful we should be to Christianity, which has raised the dignity of woman, re-establishing her rights, unknown to the pagan nations. Until Mary Immaculate, the Woman by excellence, foretold by the prophets, sighed for by the patriarchs, desired by the people. Dawn of the Sun of Justice, had appeared on earth— what was woman?

But Mary appeared, this new Eve, true Mother of the Living, elected by God to be the Co-Redemptrix of the human race, and a new era arose for woman. She is no longer a slave, but equal to man; no longer a servant, but mistress within her domestic walls; no longer the object of disdain and contempt, but raised to the dignity of Mother and Educator, on whose knee generations are built up. [Travels of Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini, pages 245]

This was the spirituality of Mother Cabrini. Nowhere near the destructive creed of modern feminism, but hewing closely to the ideal of Christian womanhood.

Belisarius and Procopius celebrate the defeat of the Goths at the Siege of Rome, March of AD 538 ~ An excerpt from Belisarius, Book III: Rome the Eternal

Belisarius and Procopius chat atop the Pincian Gate in Rome. 
Image created using hotpot.ai/art-generator

In March of the year AD 538, the late Roman general, Belisarius, pulled off one of the most incredible feats in military history: he successfully defended the massive city of Rome—with its 12 miles of circuit walls—with a scant 5,000 soldiers, against a vast army of Goths that outnumbered his own some 15 or 20 to 1. Indeed, by the time the Gothic King Vitiges broke up the siege after twelve frustrating months, it had become unclear which side was the besieged and which was the besieger. Unable to prevent the Romans from bringing in supplies or leaving the city in force, Vitiges found himself bogged down with a stubborn fortified city in front of him, and far flung enemy cavalry units ravaging his supply lines behind him, threatening to cut him off from his base in Ravenna.

What did Belisarius do once it became clear that the Goths were abandoning their camps and moving out? Did he allow the reduced but still tremendous force of Goths to go in peace, counting himself blessed and fortunate that the city had withstood the prolonged siege against such heavy odds? 

He did not. 

Instead, he rode out with every available man and attacked the Gothic rear-guard. 

I recorded Procopius's eye-witness account of the end of the siege in a previous post here.

Belisarius, Book III: Rome the Eternal, provides a dramatized description of this action with Belisarius's biscuit-eaters Longinus and Mundilas leading the charge. Mundilas is injured, while Longinus is killed despite amazing acts of valor. This much is recorded in Procopius's History of the Wars. I embellished the action in the novel.

Here is an excerpt from the novel, presenting a scene on the walls of Rome in the immediate aftermath of the Gothic withdrawal. In this scene, Belisarius has an opportunity to speak privately with his secretary, Procopius of Caesarea—the man who would go on to become the most important historian of the Justinianic period.

I had fun writing this scene. I hope you enjoy it!

 End of Chapter XXXI...

Belisarius secured the gatehouse at the Milvian Bridge that he had been forced to cede when the Gothic host first arrived the previous March. With that act, the great siege of Rome came to an end. Belisarius entered the city to cheering throngs, many of whom had ventured out of the gates to watch the battle from the protection of the tree line. The ecstasy of the Romans was tempered only by the arrival of a cart bearing Mundilas and Longinus—the first gravely injured, the second slain. Meeting the bereaved men of Longinus, Belisarius offered his sincere sympathy, weeping along with them without shame.

Later, Belisarius stood alone atop the Pincian Gate, for once gazing into the city, not outward toward the Gothic camps now in ashes. As the celebration continued unabated well into the night, Belisarius insisted that the gates be manned and the guards be sober, lest the Goths sneak into the city via stratagem while its inhabitants were lulled into a drunken slumber. To drive home the point, Belisarius himself kept vigil all night on the walls.

“Has the great wooden horse arrived yet, O Aeneas?” Procopius laughed. He made his way slowly and carefully up the stone steps, his tottering gait threatening to cast him fifty feet down.

“No sign of it,” Belisarius smiled, offering his secretary a strong hand up. “If you would warn me against it, though, be mindful of the fate of Laocöon. How are you at wrestling with snakes?”

“I would fare no better than the ill-fated Trojan priest, I suppose,” Procopius sighed. “I fear serpents above all things. Here, I have brought you a drink—wine mixed with honey, and a good vintage, too.”

“Though I am on duty, I accept. From any hand but yours I might demur, old friend,” Belisarius replied, recalling the recent attempt to drug the gate guards using spiked wine.

The two stood in silence as Belisarius sipped.

“Was it worth it?” Procopius intoned quietly, casting his bleary gaze over a large group of revelers carousing in the plaza below. “Was recovering this city worth the lives of Longinus and Principius and Tarmutus?”

“Don’t forget about Chorsamantis, Bochas and Cutilas,” Belisarius added. Poor Cutilas had lingered a month after suffering his gruesome head wound, only to perish of fever despite the best efforts of Theoctistus. “May Christ have mercy on their souls.” He made the sign of the cross on his forehead.

“Maxentius, Petronius and Valentine, too,” continued Procopius. “And so many other good men.”

“And Constantinus,” Belisarius added gloomily. “His unhealthy lust for plunder killed him as surely as any Gothic spear. But my answer is yes. This is the Eternal City of Rome, the birthplace of the Empire and the rampart of civilization. Had more good men been willing to give their lives to defend it in past ages, it would never have fallen under the sway of the barbarians to begin with.”

“But if too many good men die, who...who...but wicked men and weaklings will remain to defend Rome?” Procopius asked with a tipsy stammer.

“God will raise up others as He raised up this generation. That is why what you are doing is of such great import.”

“My letters to the praetorian prefect about the grain supply are pointless—irrelevant two weeks after they are written,” Procopius lamented.

“Not your letters, friend. Your history.”

Click here for more information.

“That disorganized pile of waste paper?” Procopius replied, the wine loosening his tongue. “Alas, your words earlier today—was it really today? It feels like weeks ago—your words have put a worry into my heart. What will the ending be? Will our astounding run of blessed good fortune continue? Or will some great disaster turn the tale into an awful tragedy? Or worse, will a sequence of little disasters grind us down into abject failure. You know, when my mood turns this way, I have considered destroying all my notes and abandoning the work completely.”

“Am I truly speaking with the same man who said that he was writing a history to be read for a thousand years?” Belisarius replied in amazement. “Has our victory in the siege somehow drained your cask of optimism?”

“Even victories, it seems, come with a cost in noble lives lost that can never be replaced,” Procopius sighed. “Writing about the death of yet another hearty soul like Longinus makes me never want to write again.”

“That is not well at all,” Belisarius chided, turning deadly serious. “You must persevere and continue to write without flinching and without despair, no matter what outcome God has ordained for our campaign. For if those men died in this cause, their deaths will not be in vain if their names are recorded for posterity so that those who read in the far distant future, hundreds or thousands of years from now, may remember and admire their acts.”

“Of course, you are right,” Procopius grimaced, focusing his eyes on a bonfire burning outside the city. “The purpose of history is to give the future examples of valor to imitate and perfidy to despise. And certainly, the acts of Principius and Longinus did just that.”

“So then you will continue?” Belisarius asked, exhaling a vaporous cloud into the chilly night air.

“Yes, I will continue, Magister,” Procopius replied pensively. “Though I will pray hard that my history doesn’t devolve into a dreary chronicle of disasters and obituaries.”

“Indeed,” Belisarius nodded. “I will do my very best to make sure that you are well supplied with noble deeds and heroic victories to record.”

Procopius smiled a little sadly, but remained silent. Would that you had the power to ensure that, O Magister.

If you want to see how things turn out for Belisarius, check out Book III: Rome the Eternal which is available from Arx Publishing here, on Amazon.com here, on Amazon Kindle here, and other bookselling websites.