The Nativity Story: C+

I may go to Hell for this.

When I first heard that Catherine Hardwicke, the writer-director of the edgy docudramas Thirteen and Lords of Dogtown, was helming a visionary tale of the birth of Christ I was excited. I was more than excited, I was ecstatic. Here was a woman who had the ability to capture every little detail in rebellion and angst and turn it into edge-of-your seat art and what greater story of teenage angst than that of Mary and Joseph? Sadly though, as I walked out of The Nativity Story I realized I had just seen a bad movie. Not an awful movie, but far from the epic it should have been.

Following Mary (Keisha Castle-Hughes) as she cavorts with God and a carpenter and then gives birth to the Messiah is certainly one of the most widly told stories in the world. And instead of directly translating that one narrative line to the screen, Hardwicke takes a Crash-like approach to it and weaves in two other stories: that of Harrod's and that of the Three Magi as they journey to Bethlehem. All of this sounds like an interesting, engaging, intelligent biblical epic - one for the ages. What sinks it though is the fact that it never really held water in the first place. The accents - a strange only-in-Hollywood mix of British and Middle Eastern - coupled with the acting make this one of the most unintentionally funny films of the year.

Perhaps it's because Castle-Hughes, as Mary, is a perpetually blank figure. I mean, a woman who is grappling with divinity should be at least a little frazzled right? Or perhaps it's that Hardwicke, working from a solid script, stages most every shot on some of the worst sets of the year (I never once believed they were actually gazing at the stars). Mostly though I think it's because instead of crafting a movie to be loved for what it did with reverential material, it was far too busy standing reverent, mouth wide-open.