Los Angeles Times writer Paul Brownfield went to see The Passion of the Christ at the 30-screen AMC plex at the Block in Orange, off the 22 Freeway. Here, in part, is what he decided. And I promise that, unless another person dies during a screening, it’s the film’s last mention here.
The reviews I’ve read have all conveyed, subtly or otherwise, the kid gloves with which the film, given its subject matter, must be treated. Well, look: I don’t know about you, but I paid $7.50 (bargain matinee) for a ticket, and saw the thing unfold on a humongous screen in a humongous movie house in a humongous development that features an Old Navy and a Borders Books and an Athlete’s Foot. All of the evidence suggests, in other words, that The Passion. . . is a movie playing at a mall.