The Gospel According to Maher

Religulous

Directed by Larry Charles

at Angelika and Lincoln Sq. Cinemas

Running Time: 101 min.

Polarization has become the religion of Left media. The new mockumentary Religulous proves this by offering the polarizing gospel according to Bill Maher, TV’s atheist comedian and political “argufier.” Maher is not a satirist; he’s too biased to search out and clarify society’s absurdity. He likes preaching to his choir, such as the in-studio audience of his HBO series Real Time, who applaud like performing seals to his every partisan snipe. Religulous is a weird movie to watch because the lack of a laugh track leaves Maher’s hostility exposed. To scoff at the foundations of charity, justice and love that hold people together, that’s what’s ridiculous.

This movie doesn’t seriously explore how religion affects politics; it’s just a snide attack on religious belief. Its style (Maher blames religion as the cause of all wars) is what used to be dismissed as barroom discourse. But Maher doesn’t provoke a fight; he avoids anyone who could seriously challenge his disdain—resorting instead to amusement park employees, an anti-Christian kook standing outside the Vatican, a couple religious hucksters and silly-looking clips from Hollywood biblical epics.

Maher’s one of those comedians whose bitterness was unleashed by the 2000 Presidential election. He offers insult as argument. Religulous puts Red State citizens on the spot to explain their beliefs. Since they’re not articulate—because they’re not practiced stand-up comics—Maher makes them look stupid rather than devout. (Subtitles undercut the interviews, conveying snark Maher wasn’t honest enough to say to his subjects’ faces.) This is the same unfair tactic of Borat; and, sure enough, Religulous is also directed by Larry Charles, a TV hack who has latched onto current political confusion, exploiting the nation’s divided ideals. This is a horrible example of the Left’s certainty of its own superiority. Maher says, “I’m here promoting doubt. That’s my sermon” to a little roadside trucker’s chapel, yet thoroughly disrespecting their space and their beliefs.

After Borat, Charles likes to put a camera crew on screen, but this is not full disclosure; Religulous is as rigged as a Saturday Night Live routine. The documentary hoax is Charles and Maher’s own bunkum. Sneering takes the place of allowing an anthropologist to define the historic need for mythology and faith. Claiming pseudo-science, Maher tries to debunk speaking in tongues by interviewing Andrew Newberg, a neuro-theologist—but if that title’s not hokum, we’re all dupes.

“Rational, anti-religious people need to assert themselves,” Maher pleads. But the problem is that this assertion is hostile. “I’m just asking questions,” Maher nudges to us while lying to the people he humiliates (a priest, various ministers, assorted laymen believers). He bests Michael Moore by giving security guards, public relations folk, even Muslim extremists virtually no screen time that might redound upon his deliberate ambush tactics. Yet it all stems from the same querulous arrogance. Maher and Charles aren’t merely irresponsible; they intend culture war. They’re not wits; they’re culture-war mongers.