Hail Satan is Provocative and Funny. Is it a Goof?

Hail Satan?   (2019)

Directed by Penny Lane

Magnolia Pictures, 95 minutes, R (nudity, language, snakes)

★★★★

Can this be banned under the First Amendment?

  

I’m about to tell you to go online and watch a documentary titled Hail Satan? Hear me out before you dispatch a team of exorcists to my door. It’s not what you think. At least I don’t think it’s what you think. You might notice there’s a question mark in the title.

Penny Lane’s fascinating (and often hilarious) new documentary takes a look The Satanic temple (TST), a group that either worships the Devil or is an effective collection of First Amendment warriors in the nation. They dare ask if actually want to live in a theocracy or have some groups tell everyone else what to believe. There are many who assert that the United States was founded as a “Christian nation,” but that may be (ahem!) snake oil. Most of the Founders thought Christianity was useful, but many were (at best) deists who rejected numerous basic Christian tenets. And I don’t just mean Thomas Jefferson who (in)famously used a razor to excise all references to the divinity of Jesus from his personal Bible.

The First Amendment explicitly states, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” The word “Christian” does not appear in the Constitution and the very idea of a “Christian nation” is antithetical to American pluralism. Imagine how it sounds to Americans who are atheists, Buddhists, Hindus, Jews, Muslims, Mormons, Rastafarians or Pastafarians. (The latter is a real thing. Look it up!) There’s another factor that ought to give fire-breathing Bible-thumpers pause. You would be hard-pressed to find an American Christian denomination that was not once persecuted for being the “wrong” flavor. That list includes the Amish, Baptists, Congregationalists, Catholics, Methodists, Quakers, and Unitarians.

If we take the First Amendment seriously, what should be done when a state or local government sanctions a monument of the Ten Commandments on public property? Sorry, but it’s a very, very middle-class thing to expect a petition, letter to the editor, or a phone call to resolve matters. The most effective protests are those that get in people’s faces. Enter TST. Through its spokesperson, Lucien Greaves, TST hoists Christian zealots upon their own petards. If the Ten Commandments can stand upon the state capitol grounds in Oklahoma City, why in the name of the First Amendment can’t TST erect one of Baphomet, the winged goat-headed god of occult movements? (The TST’s crowd-sourced statue is 8 ½ feet high and is flanked by two small children who look up in admiration!)    

My goodness; watch evangelicals throw a holy (pun intended) hissy-fit! And when they do, they play right into TST hands. Lane’s documentary approach is neutral; she merely points her cameras and sound booms to record what advocates on each side say and do. TST correctly asserts that many of the alleged foundations of a Christian America are products of the Cold War. “Under God” was added to the Pledge of Allegiance in 1954; “In God We Trust” was added to paper currency two years later. (It is printed just to the right of decidedly non-Christian Masonic symbols, if you care to look.) TST also reminds viewers that the images of Satan they have appropriated–horns, pitchfork, tail, snakes–come more from Dante, William Blake, and medieval artists, not the Bible. In Hebrew, Satan translates “adversary,” and is also generally depicted as a fallen, but attractive, angel.

Here’s where it gets hairy. Is TST just street theater? Or maybe a group of Metalheads and Goths? Do they really believe in Satan at all? It depends on whom you ask and when. TST is often analogous to churches; some members are true believers, some are Marjoe-like hucksters, some are hypocrites, some are nine dimes short of a buck, and a handful are scary. Also like churches, success–it is now tax-exempt–has led to greater centralization and that seldom goes down well with those who like a DYI approach. In Detroit, Jex Blackmore strayed into zealotry akin to a black (or is it pink?) mass version of Torquemada. On the other hand, Greaves—odd looking with his cloudy right eye–and cofounder Malcolm Jarry come across as ironic cosplay hipsters who do everything from sponsoring an Afterschool Satan Project in Florida schools to participating in adopt-a-highway schemes. One fascinating Arkansan is a bowtie-wearing clean-cut young man who looks like he interned with George Will; another evokes a park ranger. But there are also bikers, Goths, and more tattoos than a New Jersey beach.

Because of Lane’s commentary-free approach, you’ll have to watch and decide what to make of all this. I suspect Lane has a nobler task in mind; she wants us to think! In case you’re wondering, there are no human sacrifices and their core beliefs are humanistic. Be warned, though, there are plenty of snakes so be ready to look away if you’re squeamish.  

Rob Weir