Necessary silence and authentic freedom: A review of Free

Reel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Note: Free is appearing in theaters for one day only, Tuesday, November 2nd. Visit Fathom Events for more information.

The world today is a very noisy place—so noisy that even taking a ten-minute walk without earbuds can be a traumatic experience. Monasticism provides an alternative that not only gives a meaningful life for those who are called to it, but a valuable foundation for foot soldiers in the rat race.

Free is a sometimes meandering, and always beautiful documentary that examines the life of monks and nuns in several orders in Spain. Their reflections, attitudes, and simple happiness provide a path to peace that so many claim to want, but so few seem willing to travel.

The documentary is broken into three sections, based on John 14: Way, Truth, and Life. In the “Way,” the monastics tell their vocation stories. Like the calendar of the saints, they come from all sorts of backgrounds and situations. Some were only teens when they entered religious life, others were in their sixties. A few came from wealth and privilege, and–like St. Francis–gave up everything. Others were poor from the beginning, and so the lifestyle is not terribly different in terms of material possessions. One young monk was even a Satanist who “admired serial killers,” only coming to the faith because of the continual prayer of his mother.

In the “Truth” section, the audience is told of the monks’ daily lives. This section typifies St. Benedict’s motto of “prayer and work.” Despite what some might assume, their schedules are filled. There’s Mass, Bible study, personal prayer, communal prayer, working in the garden, washing laundry, and much more.

Finally, there is the “Life” section, which—ironically—is mostly about death. The audience sees them getting old, their bodies breaking down. One elderly novice is diagnosed with cancer and tries to leave, not wanting “to be a burden.” Her future sisters insist she stay; it is an honor for them to serve her, even if for a short while.

The content of Free consists almost entirely of interviews. There is no score, no narration, and only minimal camera movement. Like the anonymous master illuminators of the medieval age, none of the monastics are named. Precious little of their daily life is shown; instead, it is their faith and philosophy that shines. While the subjects are frequently on-screen, director Santos Blano also wanders off into landscape cinematography of hills, rivers, and farmland while the spoken dialogue continues.

The structure of the film is extremely loose, going off on tangent after tangent as the speaker wishes. As such, the visuals and words gradually become a meditative text in themselves, inviting the viewer to reflect and find meaning in the same vein as Sirach or Proverbs.

What struck me most was the profound sense of peace and joy these people experience and possess, even in moments of great hardship. One monk, worried by three suicides in his family, comes to a place where he finally can calm his mind. Another nun can barely walk but always jokes and wears a smile. Nobody is “troubled” or “concerned” about political causes or world events. In their detachment, the monastics see that God is always present and is all things to them. Jesus Christ is risen, and this is what makes us truly free.

At the beginning, the filmmakers claim that their access to the cloistered religious is “unprecedented.” But in the early 2000s, German director Philip Groning spent six months living in a French Carthusian monastery. His masterpiece Into Great Silence is a superior cinematic contemplation of the inner workings of Catholic asceticism. Yet Free is more approachable and better for a wider audience.

In the last few minutes, a sickly nun–soon to leave this earthly life–encourages the audience to “grow where you are planted.” Their reflections on love, sacrifice, silence, joy, prayer, and so much else can and should be used by all. They are not just an example to be admired, but a model to be imitated.