There are some movies from one's youth that should not be seen again. When it was first released, I thought that "Brother Son, Sister Moon" was a wonderful film. More than 30 years later, I wonder what state of mind I was in when I saw it (or what I was smoking for that matter). The film is not without redeeming qualities. The art direction, costumes, and photography of the Italian countryside are up to Zeffirelli's standards, although they are a bit pale next to "The Taming of the Shrew" and "Romeo and Juliet." However, the endless fields of flowers and the cloying shots of animals and birds become monotonous and are like banal calendar scenes. The songs, which were written and sung by Donovan, have dated badly. While they may have been tolerable during the "Age of Aquarius," they seem simplistic and corny today. The drama is not much better than the lyrics. St. Francis and St. Clare and their followers have been reduced to a roving group of flower children. The inspiration for St. Francis's spiritual awakening and the charisma that brought others to share his vision and follow him are sadly missing from this interpretation. St. Francis comes across as a loony, and his disciples' motivation for following him is unclear at best (and somewhat questionable at worst). Occasionally the film borders on the ludicrous, such as a scene where the band of brothers is washing a group of lepers in a stream. The boys are smiling like simpletons and expose perfect sets of Pepsodent teeth as they tend leprous sores, which look like little more than dirt smudges. Back in the early 1970's, I must have been incredibly naive and forgiving to fall for Zeffirelli's kitschy retelling of St. Francis's story. Time has certainly changed me, but unfortunately it has not changed this film.
Review of Brother Sun, Sister Moon
