The Children Act (2018) - Movie Review

Religious freedom is a tricky idea to discuss at any great length, especially nowadays. While it seems a given that people should be free to harbour whatever beliefs they may have about themselves and their place in the celestial scheme of things, friction manifests when it comes to the intersection between one’s own beliefs and the actions of others. With the recent developments regarding acknowledge of LGBT rights, it seems like people are screaming for their right to religious freedom now more than ever… even if it largely amounts to being free to vilify and belittle others without recourse. And even further than that, there are times when upholding one’s own faith means that others end up in direct harm, even death.

For Emma Thompson’s Judge Maye, dealing with difficult dilemmas is simply part of the job; with how many heart-breaking cases come by her court, a certain level of detachment is vital to keep one’s sanity, much as it is for any profession where live and death decisions are part of the job description. But when she is brought on to judge the case of Adam Henry, played with harrowing efficacy by Fionn Whitehead, that detachment proves difficult.

A child of Jehovah’s Witnesses, he refuses a live-saving blood transfusion because it goes against the beliefs of his church. The beliefs that he was brought up on, and whose certainty he appears ready to martyr himself to preserve. Upon meeting Maye, the stance begins to shift. He finds himself questioning what he believes and the fate he could succumb to because of them, and ends up placing his faith in a proximal power than that of the Almighty: The judge that saved his life.

Through the scripting of Ian McEwan, the film holds no qualms with outlying the dogma of the Witnesses as the insular and dangerous belief system that it is. From the rationalisation of why blood transfusions are blasphemous to Adam’s explanation of "How do we know what’s wrong? We just do", which is word-for-word what I myself have been told by Jehovah’s Witnesses in the past, it shows itself to have a real axe to grind. Knowing McEwan’s views regarding religion and its "absurdities", that is fair enough, but this doesn’t read as an all-out attack on faith.

It takes a more subtle approach and shows what happens when someone’s faith is shaken and they find themselves in need of something, or someone, that they can believe in. The view of organised religion that whatever Highest Being they prescribe to is infallible, and for their own sakes, they have to be. If people are going to put their own unwavering faith in a given power, they have be assured that that power will always do what’s right. And when Adam starts to consider that maybe his own Highest Being isn’t as such, he goes from a higher power to an equal power: Another person.

Except people aren’t infallible. Acting directly against one’s own best interests is one of the most unshakably human things a person is capable of doing. Putting one’s faith into another flesh-and-blood human is a difficult prospect, but in the wake of recovery, Adam does just that with the judge. A judge going through her own turmoil surrounding love, family and the nature of her work. Much like McEwan’s On Chesil Beach from earlier this year, the film explores quite challenging questions but never has the confidence to outright answer them.

Instead, it merely proffers a look at what happens when faith is questioned, not to mention the after-effects of raising a person to be so reliant on their faith in the first place. Judgements could easily be made, and occasionally are in regards to preserving human life (the intersection of religion and the protection of children will always be a contentious issue), but for the most part, this is a purely human story. One bolstered by very strong central performances, an emotionally sharpened script, and an approach to its subject matter that makes relevant points on both sides. It forgoes simple platitudes and goes deeper into rather unnerving territory, the kind that should leave audiences with quite a bit to consider post-film.