by Fr. Alexey Young

The 1944 black and white film, The Keys of the Kingdom, a superb adaptation of the best-selling novel by A. J. Cronin, belongs to a genre of film-rarely seen since the early 1970s-that depends almost entirely on plot, character development and dialogue to carry the viewer along. Unlike many modern films, The Keys of the Kingdom has no special effects whatever, and nothing to shock of stun the viewer, and yet we actually care deeply about these characters and what happens to them. More than this, we somehow want to even be like them. The “good guys” are surprisingly average people who are able, under the right circumstances, to rise above the usual human tendency to seek after one’s own comfort and convenience; thus, virtue is correctly shown as something desirable and something to be earned, to be worked for. On the other hand, the “bad guys” are not stereotypically wicked, but are very “normal” people who, under the press of events, choose neither good nor obvious evil, but instead lean in the direction of simple human vanity or laziness, the path of least resistance, which leads to pride and a hankering after worldly glory and recognition-in other words, the classic deadly sins.

Lest this seem like too much for a single film to carry off in a believable way, these themes are actually beautifully woven into a relatively simple plot. In brief, a Roman Catholic priest from Scotland (Gregory Peck) is sent to China to run a decrepit mission. He has no congregation and the local people are suspicious and uncooperative. With Fr. Francis’ patient hard work the mission begins to prosper in spite of almost overwhelming challenges, the by-product of life in chaotic turn of the century China. The key to his final success, however, is not ambition or people-pleasing, although there are many opportunities for both, but the priest’s desire to serve God and God alone. Even so, at the end of his life this humble priest believes that his life has been a failure.

In particular, two characters provide support to the film’s main theme. One is a priest (ably played by a young Vincent Price) whose career intersects with that of Fr. Francis’ at crucial moments-only this priest is everything Fr. Francis is not: successful in the eyes of the world (ultimately he becomes a bishop), ambitious, respected and honored; not a wicked man, and yet not one who has truly given his life to God, either.

The other particularly memorable character is that of the European nun, Mother Maria Veronica, sent with two other nuns to teach in the humble school Fr. Francis has built at this mission compound. Mother Maria is from an ancient noble Austrian family. A proud woman, she takes an immediate dislike to Fr. Francis, whom she refers to as “our peasant priest.” The unexpected way in which she comes to sincerely respect him is itself the turning point of the film. In a moment of self-revelation and repentance, seeing the magnificence of his rejection of worldly ways of thinking, she admits to him that she “was born into arrogance… and taught contempt for those who were not. How could I,” she asks, “hope to live by the word of God, which is the same for all men? … I know that yours was a true humility and that mine was a duty…”

In fact, so complete is Fr. Francis’ humility that, at the end of his life, he doesn’t even realize that his way of thinking, working, and seeing has been vindicated in the eyes of his superiors. Instead, like a child, he quietly prepares to go fishing with the orphaned boy he is raising. This is a film for the whole family, although children under ten or twelve will miss most of the subtleties of its mature themes and may even find it boring. Teenagers, however, can understand and appreciate this film if adults carefully prepare them, lead them through it, and follow up with pointed questions about who are the “bad guys” and the “good guys” and why.

In particular, this is an opportunity to show and explain that self-esteem comes not from self-help books or self-centered “techniques,” but from two things: 1) doing something well, no matter how hard or how small, expecting no reward, and 2) seeking to put God first in all things. Herein also lies contentment with life and an experience of genuine happiness.