Phil Hoad 

A Black Jesus review – religious rites and refugees collide in Sicilian village

In his radiantly photographed documentary, Luca Lucchesi confronts the locals who revere a black Jesus icon yet are racist towards outsiders
  
  

A Black Jesus.
‘Like an identitarian lifeboat in stormy waters’ … A Black Jesus. Photograph: Luca Lucchesi/© Road Movies

‘Let us in, we are poor pilgrims tired from a long journey.” Joseph, Mary and Jesus are the original spurned refugees in a nativity re-enactment in the Sicilian village of Siculiana, which two millennia on from biblical times is now on the frontline for receiving those fleeing oppression and poverty in Africa. But there’s a paradox in this village of 4,500: while some residents campaign against the local refugee centre and greet the arrivals with racism, the Jesus icon venerated at a festival here each year is (as per this film’s title) black.

Only the Africans point out this contradiction in this radiantly photographed and thorough documentary by director Luca Lucchesi, whose father is from Siculiana; it is also produced by Wim Wenders. But if irony isn’t the local speciality, there are reasons for the lack of self-awareness. The village, like much of rural Europe, is economically struggling, and the residents want to keep what they have. They cling to their religious rite, carrying the crucifix through the streets, like an identitarian lifeboat in these stormy waters. “Italy is finished,” bemoans one old-timer, who himself left Sicily as a young man to work on German construction sites. Yet another irony: in its apparently terminal decline, Siculiana stands to benefit from the newcomers’ input and energy.

With the help of a sympathetic language teacher, one refugee called Peter resolves to drag Siculiana down the path of integration by applying to be a porter for the icon during the festival. Like this teacher pep-talking some embarrassed-looking Italian schoolkids about letting go of their prejudices, this late storyline is aiming for an uplifting multicultural denouement – and momentarily appears to get it, as Africans help hoist the sculpture. It is a truly moving moment but, after disappointment quickly follows, one that shows the fragility of symbolic gestures. With Siculiana’s newest residents facing a troubling future, and the locals’ apparent complicity, the words of one woman reverberate on: “Jesus became black because of all of our sins.”

• A Black Jesus is available on True Story on 15 December.

 

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