Machine Gun Preacher

With its combustible mix of high-octane action and Christian faith, and an overall vibe that falls somewhere between bloodthirsty nihilism and an unshakable belief in the twinned powers of religious redemption and obsession, Machine Gun Preacher is certainly the strangest examination of grace under AK-47 fire to merit a mainstream release in ages.

Butler, playing to his muscles, is well-cast as real-life zealot Sam Childers, who is fresh out of jail when we first meet him, and more than ready to resume a tawdry life of booze, heroin, and general abuse of his already terribly tarnished soul. The Lord, they say, is where you find him, and while circling the drain for the final time, Childers manages to stagger into the church his wife (Monaghan) and daughter attend and repent his bad-boy ways. Miraculously, it sticks, and the burly ex-con takes to religion with a fervor that echoes that of his former lust for the hard life. There's an obvious parallel, intentional or not, drawn between Childers' love affair with opiates and the opiate of the masses, but director Forster doesn't dwell on it.

Instead, the film follows Childers and his recovered pal Donnie (Shannon, looking every bit the world-weary ex-skag addict) to Sudan, where they plan to build a church and rescue as many doomed children as possible from the conflict zone. It's here, while gamely chronicling Childers’ Sisyphean task, that the film transforms from inspirational travelogue into blood-spattered tour de farce. Forster, to his credit, doesn't dodge the gruesome reality of the Sudan conflict. Vicious child soldiers, ghastly maimings, and gore galore lends a sickly air of documentary reality to the proceedings, even as our antihero's home life collapses under the weight of his calling. At times it's difficult to tell if this lone gunman is following Jesus' orders or the devil's; he has precious few moral reservations about blowing the bejesus out of anyone who gets in his divinely inspired path.

Despite its gut-wrenching honesty vis-à-vis lunacy, religion, and the tricky intersection thereof, Machine Gun Preacher is ultimately undone by its chaotic tone. Like its protagonist, Forster's film is all over the place, morally muddled, and uncertain of its ultimate destination. Considering the endless crises – spiritual and otherwise – of which Childers runs afoul, that may well be the point, but it makes for a tonally psychotic film.