Speaking for myself, all that blood and flesh-eating never really bothered me. I kept looking up at that figure hung up there on the crucifix--and in Catholic churches it was always anatomically accurate, unlike those cleanly abstract crosses in Protestant churches--trying to figure out how those wounds were created, and what they felt like.
Catholicism is a sensuous religion. Gibson got that part right, but he put the sensuousness to a limited use, made us hate what's happening to the hero, and unwittingly, hate those who put him in that situation (and thanks to Gibson's clueless fidelity to Emmerich and Brentano's text, the primary object of that hate are the Jews). There's no love, no sense of sacrifice to counterbalance the suffering, the way a real Catholic (and not some literal-minded ninny like Gibson) would put it.
Like I said in my article, Scorsese's violence always pointed to something beyond the physical suffering--to a guilt that had to be eased, or redeemed. Gibson's snuff flick is simply aerobics with plenty of bodily fluids, with a supernatural loincloth thrown in to hide the sex organs.
Glenn H: I think the Catholics are the only one's still into Transubstantiation these days. We Episcopalians understand the concept of metaphor.
Shit, we not only believe in transubstantiation ( a concept Philip Dick finds so fascinatingly weird he includes it in his novels), we believe in exorcism.
Yeah, the Body of Christ compels you!
Earl Hartman: Well .... erm .... uhhh... urgh.... ahem.... uhh... So....uhhh...how does G-d taste, Noel?
His flesh is crisp and flaky; we have a cashew-flavored treat wrapped in that kind of bread, very popular in Manila. Interesting flavor.
The blood is like a sweetish liqueur with a medicinal flavor. Microwaved cough drops with a mild kick.