The Book of Clarence (now on Netflix) is director Jeymes Samuel’s strange, almost-exhilarating religious satire-slash-biblical epic-slash-weed-comedy, a descriptor you just don’t throw around willy-nilly. It’s Samuel’s follow-up to his similarly ambitious 2021 neo-Western The Harder They Fall, which established the filmmaker as a stylist with big ideas – stuff that Clarence certainly doesn’t lack. Atlanta’s LaKeith Stanfield leads a significantly talented cast, giving a wide-ranging performance that reflects the film’s blend of satire and earnest storytelling. It’s a big ask, and he and Samuel almost make it work. Almost.
The Gist: There he is, Clarence (Stanfield), hanging on a cross, battered, with spikes in his hands, dying. He isn’t there yet, though – this is a flash-forward, and the film is going to show us how he ended up in this, shall we say, predicament. Title card: BOOK 1, THE 13TH APOSTLE. It’s A.D. 33, Lower City, Jerusalem. Clarence and his perpetually stoned best pal Elijah (RJ Cyler) have just eaten shit in a chariot race against Mary Magdalene (Teyana Taylor). Doesn’t seem like a big deal, except there was a considerable wager involved, and it puts Clarence in deep doodoo with a loan shark known as Jedediah the Terrible (Eric Kofi-Abrefa). Clarence owes more than his small-time hustle as a “peddler of ungodly herbs” can cover, so it’s a big problem, one that could find him dead – and probably more quickly than hanging on a cross, so maybe that’s a plus, considering what we see in the opening scene?
Several things besides questionable choices complicate Clarence’s life: He’s sweet on Jedediah’s sister Varinia (Anna Diop). His identical-twin brother is Thomas (also Stanfield), who’s a bona-fide apostle of Jesus of Nazareth (Nicholas Pinnock). He’s apparently a chronic masturbator, as we learn during a conversation he has with his mother Amina (Marianne Jean-Baptiste), which, you know, yikes. And he’s – please gasp here! – a nonbeliever, a skeptic who’s certain Jesus’ various “miracles” are naught but scams and tricks. One is prone to desperation when one’s back is against the wall, so Clarence decides to convert to Christianity, hoping that’ll get Jedediah to back off. Not that it’ll be a legit conversion, mind you; Clarence lines up for a baptismal from John the Baptist (David Oyelowo), who sees through the ruse and slaps him across the mug as they stand knee-deep in the river.
Now what? Well, Clarence and Elijah visit the local opium den, and one hit off a hookah has our protag declaring himself the 13th apostle. Will it fly? Well, did Jesus have any official confirmation of his status, or is his growing legion of followers just acting on faith? (The answer to that is obviously too thorny to get into here, thank you!) In what might be Clarence’s first-ever selfless act, he frees a gladiator slave, Barabbas (Omar Sy), who helps Clarence and Elijah stage “miracles” of healing and reanimation, scams that are pretty easy to pull off in this particular historical era. Clarence practices his bullshit speeches in the mirror; he awakens Elijah from death; they rake in the coins. Soon, they have more than enough to pay off Jedediah.
While this farcical plot progresses, a second one emerges, one where Clarence earnestly courts Varinia, and ideologically and emotionally wrestles with his brother. Thomas never ceases to be condescending about Clarence’s lack of “honor”; Clarence fires back that Thomas left to walk with Jesus while their mother was gravely ill: “Honor thy father AND thy mother,” Clarence throws in his sibling’s face. Meanwhile, Clarence realizes he could buy the freedom of all the other gladiator slaves. He also realizes what the Romans – who, make no mistake, are the asshole cops in this story – do to people they consider to be false prophets. I hope you haven’t forgotten that first scene.
What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: This is a pretty odd conglomeration of The Passion of the Christ and Monty Python’s The Life of Brian.
Performance Worth Watching: You can’t help but admire Stanfield for his effort, playing two characters, one of whom is split in two trying to make sense of the world – so it’s sort of like playing three characters. You also can’t help but admire Alfre Woodard’s extended cameo as the Virgin Mary; her impatient tolerance of Clarence’s questioning inspires the film’s biggest laughs.
Memorable Dialogue: You can’t deny the power of Stanfield delivering this speech: “Knowledge is stronger than belief. You believe that god exists because you know nothing of the world, which is why you do the silly shit you do. I possess the knowledge that there is no god. Which makes every single last one you – every single last one – liars! Or fools.”
Sex and Skin: Almost-nudity in a scene set in a turn-of-the-millennium strip club.
Our Take: That rousing speech by Stanfield is the most powerful moment in The Book of Clarence, but the movie doesn’t hold to that declaration – it lands on a wildly different note, and I’m not sure if that’s a bold move by Samuel, or one that simply prompts confusion. This is a classic case in which critics grouse about whether a film “works” or not, that is, if its internal logic or thematic overtures are consistent; this one finds Samuel firing shots, from mmm…sacrilicious low blows to haphazard criticisms of social and racial dynamics to high-minded exhortations like Clarence’s “silly shit you do” missive.
Which is to say, I was provoked and entertained – for significant stretches of this lengthy, 129-minute film, even – but ultimately dissatisfied. No one can say whether belief or disbelief is the greater ideology, not now and not ever, but the film can’t seem to decide whether both should be revered or ridiculed. Samuel divides the narrative into three parts, and where the first two are engagingly ramshackle, the third loses its grip when its sense of loosey-goosey fun becomes tonal and thematic murk. It leaves you wondering what the filmmaker is trying to say beyond a lightly exasperated What The F—? Clarence lives his life with the lack of structure that can define rigorous individuality, and stares down the dogma his brother conforms to, and ends up learning that nothing is within his control. Or at least that’s one nigh-shrugworthy interpretation of this hazy spiritual journey that’s ultimately more confounding than intellectually or emotionally challenging.
You can say this for it: The Book of Clarence is the only movie on record to open like a stoner comedy and end with an upsetting, brutally graphic crucifixion – think Friday if Craig Jones ended up being tortured and executed. Samuel retains the stylistic verve he established in The Harder They Fall, enlivening the film with music and calculated anachronisms; a montage in which Clarence amasses a following of his own is an inspired assemblage of split screens and visual comedy that’s as fun as it is artful. Some might find such flourishes distracting, but they work extraordinarily well with the movie’s satirical components. It’s the tug-o’-war between the silly and the sincere that nearly pulls the film apart.
Our Call: Nope. The Book of Clarence doesn’t “work.” But is it watchable, and laudable for its ambition? Without a doubt, yes. STREAM IT.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.