Left Behind

I grew up in the shadow of the preacher pulpit’s fire & brimstone. The end was near, and hellfire was waiting to consume me for my sins. I sat in Bible class and chapel where I was forbidden to wear pants (because as a girl, it would be considered going against my God-given gender) or allowed to mention any art, music, dance or literature that did not reflect the glory of God. One morning, my science teacher called me to the front of the class to apologize to my classmates and read a verse from 1 Corinthians. My sacred crime was vanity for cutting my hair.
It was during these fearful times that I was introduced to the Left Behind series of books by Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins. The series was all the rage on campus, since it was one of the few permissible titles outside the Good Book. The Left Behind series follow a group of compatriots after they missed the faith ticket to heaven known as the Rapture. The books read like fanciful Book of Revelation fan fiction, but they were taught in class with the solemnity of Shakespeare. Evangelical extraordinaire Kirk Cameron starred in the 2000 movie adaptation and its two subsequent sequels. We watched the first movie in Bible class, and I remember there being a post-screening quiz.
Fourteen years later, I’m watching the end of the world again. It probably takes less than 15 minutes for the first Bible verse to be thrown down at the feet of journalist Cameron “Buck” Williams (Chad Michael Murray, in a strange beard that fluctuates in length and patches throughout the movie). Unlike in the first adaptation, Buck is second fiddle to adulterous pilot Raymond Steele (Nicolas Cage). He takes off for a sexy London romp (and U2 concert) with his mistress Hattie (an ineffective Nicky Whelan), leaving behind his born-again Christian wife (Lea Thompson), upset daughter Chloe (Cassi Thompson) and younger son. All’s well in domestic drama when the Rapture strikes, calling all the Christian believers and innocent children to the heavenly dance floor. Steele’s plane is only halfway to London when a fourth of his passengers disappear and chaos reigns in coach. Back on earth, his daughter frantically searches for her brother, who only moments before disappeared in her arms. All hell breaks loose.
The movie unravels in its own destruction. Every effort to milk the tragedy of the apocalypse is met with terrible music, acting and effects that soak (and drown) the pathos in camp fare. The sound levels felt out-of-whack and consist of all-Christian pop music, even in non-Christian’s cars. The effects are only a few notches above the low-budget details of Veggie Tales. In Left Behind, the plane looks straight out of a cheap training video, with the cockpit proportions incredibly out of proportion, and Capt. Steele’s cockpit controls resembling modified iPad minis. Houston, we have a problem.
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