Between Icon and Idol: Augustine in Film and the Problem of the Christian Hero

The special collector’s edition of Restless Heart: The Confessions of Augustine, distributed by Ignatius Press, features a stirring endorsement from none other than the late Pope Benedict XVI. “We hope that many who watch this inspiring human drama will allow themselves to be found by the Truth and in return also find Love,” Benedict—or, most likely, someone in the Vatican’s Dicastery for Communication—writes. Whether Benedict actually watched the film is less relevant than his hope for what effect the film might have on its viewers, which strikingly echoes Augustine’s own hope that his Confessions will “excite the mind and affections of humans” toward God, who is both Truth and Love (Retractiones, 2.6 (32)). In this paper, I critically analyze the only two films ever made about the Bishop of Hippo—Agostino d’Ippona (1972) and Restless Heart (2012)—in light of Benedict’s hope, which, I argue, also reflects what James K. A. Smith calls an Augustinian, “incarnational” account of cinema as part of a broader Christian aesthetic (Smith, 2001). Beyond social media and the occasional public-facing review (e.g., Hall, 2012), very few Augustine scholars have discussed either of these films, and no comparative study of these works exists in the scholarly literature. This paper represents the first attempt to comparatively evaluate these films together through an explicitly Augustinian lens. 

Before examining Agostino d’Ippona and Restless Heart in detail, I first outline Smith’s conception of an Augustinian, “incarnational” account of theater (or film). While not commenting on either of these films, Smith observes that there is both an irony and danger in any attempt to adapt Confessions for a script or screenplay: “The irony . . . would lie in the staging of a narrative which includes within itself a trenchant critique of literature and drama. The danger would lie precisely in its effectiveness in arousing the (wrong) passions of its spectators” (Smith, 2001). That said, Smith notes that this irony and danger accompany the Confessions themselves, which Augustine intends to draw readers’ and listeners’ minds and hearts to God (Conf., 10.3.4; Retractiones, 2.6 (32)). In light of this tension, Smith revisits Augustine’s ontological and ethical critique of theater, concluding that the problem with theater lies not so much in its reliance on images or ability to stir the passions, but in the direction toward which these structural features orient the viewer—either toward God or idolatrous ends. Hence “theatre, as an affective medium of images which moves and stirs the passions, can function in such a way as to move the soul toward God to find its ultimate enjoyment” (Smith, 2001). This insight constitutes the central premise of what Smith calls an Augustinian, “incarnational” account of theater, in view of which we can evaluate dramatic performances, be they on stage or in film. 

I then critically assess Restless Heart and Agostino d’Ippona with an eye toward Smith’s reconstructed Augustinian account. The former, directed by Christian Duguay, dramatizes the narrative books of Confessions and is bookended with scenes depicting the Vandal siege of Hippo, Augustine’s episcopal see, in the final year of his life. The latter, directed by the prominent Italian neorealist filmmaker Roberto Rossellini, focuses on the social, religious, and political circumstances of Augustine’s episcopal career and leans heavily into historical authenticity and didacticism. Each film takes a different approach toward the Bishop of Hippo: Whereas Confessions is the principal source text for Restless Heart, Agostino d’Ippona draws primarily from his sermons, letters, and City of God. Strikingly, Rossellini’s film stars Dary Berkani, a Black actor, and features several actors of color, while nearly all Duguay’s characters, including Augustine, are played by white actors. 

Despite these and other notable differences, both films, I argue, ultimately lionize their subject and sanitize his moral failures, often in stark contrast to Augustine’s own self-presentation in Confessions and throughout his corpus. In mythologizing him on the silver screen, both films recapitulate precisely the sort of triumphalist narrative that Augustine critiques in Roman historiography in the first five books of City of God. Both, that is, situate Augustine as an untarnished moral exemplar, even to the point (as in Restless Heart) of falsely depicting him as a martyr. By obfuscating what we, as viewers, might criticize in Augustine’s thought and action—with respect to, for example, his treatment of his unnamed concubine (Restless Heart) or his favorable attitude toward coercive imperial policies regarding the Donatists (Agostino d’Ippona)—both films undermine the profound role Augustine envisions for divine grace in transforming the hearts of sinners. We are left with an Augustine who is sinful, but not too sinful—human, but not too human—lest he alienate potential admirers.

Given the tendencies of Restless Heart and Agostino d’Ippona to mythologize Augustine, both plainly fail to embody the Augustinian account of theater reconstructed by Smith. Neither manages to paint an image of Augustine that ultimately functions as an icon rather than an idol. While I conclude that both films fail to reflect this Augustinian vision, they do so in different ways that reveal an inherent tension in any “biopic” featuring a Christian hero: namely, between the cinematic temptation to glorify the protagonist as self-sufficient and morally exceptional, on the one hand, and their radical dependence on and receptivity to God’s love and mercy, on the other. By yielding to the former temptation, films such as Restless Heart and Agostino d’Ippona risk idolizing their subjects, drawing the minds and hearts of viewers not toward God but toward the love of autonomous human achievement.