Romero (1989) (M). Director: John Duigan, Richard Jordan, Alejandro Bracho, Tony Plana, Lucy Reina, Ana Alicia, Omar Chagall. Starring: Raul Julia. 102 minutes
'It took 20 years,' wrote Antonio Castillo, a Latin American journalist and academic who is Director of Journalism at RMIT University, earlier this week. 'Over and over again, forces inside the Vatican stalled and blocked it. But earlier this month, Pope Francis declared that Salvadorean Archbishop Oscar Romero was martyred in odium fidei, murdered 'in hatred of the faith' and not for political reasons.'
This momentous declaration paves the way for Romero's beatification, and comes as monumentally good news to Catholics and others who have long regarded the late Salvadoran Archbishop as one of modern history's great champions of the poor. Romero was assassinated in 1980 for speaking out against social injustice and government and military violence at the height of the Salvadoran civil war.
Where the Church lagged (whatever its reasons), Hollywood did not. Romero has long since been 'canonised' on celluloid, notably in this 1989 film from American religious production house Paulist Productions, directed by Australian John Duigan. The production has not aged well but is elevated by the late Raul Julia, whose conflicted, heroic portrayal of Romero is surely as iconic as the man himself.
Romero's promotion from Bishop of the Diocese of Santiago de María to Archbishop of San Salvador takes place against a backdrop of government oppression and public unrest. Rightwing military death squads employ brutal tactics to maintain order, while a guerilla movement has emerged in resistance. The Church, meanwhile, is standing by, a perhaps less-than disinterested observer.
The moderate Romero quickly finds himself torn. On the one hand is his friendship with the Jesuit priest, Fr Rutilio Grande SJ (Jordan), who, with his (fictional) Jesuit brothers Fr Osuña (Bracho) and Fr Morantes (Plana), feels that piety is insufficient in the face of the oppression suffered by the country's poor whom they have long served, and that a more active solidarity is required.
On the other hand, there is the conviction of Romero's fellow bishops, which he initially shares, that the Church's role is not political, but only spiritual. He is expected by them to maintain a status quo that has until now worked in their favour. He has friends, too, among the government and wealthy classes, notably the (fictional) Minister of Agriculture, Rafael Zelada (Chagall) and his wife, Arista (Alicia).
Julia's Romero seems stoic to the point of aloofness, as he attempts to balance these perspectives.