Netflix's 'The Devil All the Time' Exploits Faith In Dark Thriller
Robert Pattinson as Pastor Teagardin in “The Devil All the Time.” Photo courtesy of Netflix.
(REVIEW) What does it look like when God is a silent figure to pray at and a name to use to get what you want?
The latest Netflix original, dark crime thriller “The Devil All the Time,” presents a world in which just that is the case.
The movie is based on a novel of the same name that was published in 2011, and it follows a haunted, violent cast of characters in the rural town of Knockemstiff, Ohio and into W. Va. as they wrestle with their own evils.
It received audience attention for months ahead of its Sept. 16 release, primarily for its all-star cast. The movie stars Tom Holland — most well known as Spider-man in the recent Marvel franchise — as Arvin Russel, a young man who was raised by a violent father and orphaned as a boy.
It features Robert Pattinson — from Twilight and cast as the newest Batman — as Preston Teagardin, the young preacher who becomes the head of the Coal River church.
Set post-World War II, “The Devil All the Time” is given the perfect setting for the “hillbilly Gothic” genre. It provides the combination of a society which has been haunted by war and the creepiness that seems inherent in a rural setting.
In this movie, religion only emphasizes these horrors.
The world of Knockemstiff and the surrounding area exists in a world governed by the “God as watchmaker” theology. God, in this analogy, is the watchmaker. He created a watch (the Earth), but when finished, stepped back to allow it to run; everything that has happened since is entirely because of the choices of man. This theology presents a God who rules above the Earth and observes everything that happens, but who is ultimately indifferent to the lives of those he has created.
As such, God plays an important role in the lives of most of the characters, but he never interferes — leaving the characters to use his name for their own devices.
Arvin’s father, Willard, stakes his entire life on prayer. He’s built a cross in the woods near their home where he prays to God daily, and he often forces Arvin to do the same. So when his wife develops an incurable cancer, he says that prayer is the only way she’ll be healed.
Willard kills Arvin’s beloved dog on the log altar beneath his cross to offer a sacrifice. But still he receives no answer. On the day his wife is buried, Willard commits suicide below the cross. Willard wanted desperately to believe that God would answer his prayers, but his wife’s death was enough to prove to him that God wasn’t listening at all.
Arvin moves in with his grandmother, uncle and orphaned stepsister Lenora, who he comes to love and protect as his own. Lenora is a pious Christian who is pure and devoted above all else.
When Pastor Teagardin becomes the leader of the church Lenora visits daily to spend time at her mother’s grave, he sets his sights on her. After driving her out to a more secluded area, he tells her that the only way to fully open herself up to God is by taking her clothes off. He prays that God give her the strength to do so and has sex with her, something that’s repeated until she gets pregnant. He of course denies getting her pregnant — it’s not possible, he tells her, “when all we done is spend time with the Lord” — and Lenora is eventually driven to death.
This part of the story is, at least in some ways, representative of a true narrative: both Catholics and Protestants have been under fire for years for emerging sexual abuse cases within the church. That makes it no less horrifying to watch on screen.
There’s no redemptive value in faith or in any of the characters. In fact, this movie emphasizes that the most notable thing about religion is the evil that accompanies it, and that so many people are fighting the devil all the time. What’s the point of using religion in this way?
It seems to be only for the horror value itself, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It may confirm negative stereotypes non-religious people hold against Christianity, and it may contribute to the bad rap people of faith get, but there’s no arguing that it’s not at all based in truth.
And I can imagine few things more heartbreaking than a man calling out to a God who won’t listen or help and few things more terrifying than a preacher using God to manipulate an innocent girl.
The actions of these characters are fascinating to watch if you enjoy grisly horror or the theological concept of original sin, both of which are great.
The only disappointment in this narrative arc is the ending. Arvin has killed the preacher who wronged his sister, two notorious serial killers and a corrupt cop. Hitchhiking in the direction of Cincinnati, it seems as though Arvin will never face consequences.
He’s come full circle: everyone who he may have needed to take revenge against is now dead, and there’s a clean slate. He buried his father’s gun, which he used to kill four people, next to the dog his father once killed. He could become anyone or anything, and he dreams about as much as he’s running away.
But an ending like this — one that makes the audience feel bleak and very nearly hopeless — suggests a particular worldview. It believes that all men do evil things for no discernible reason, and that this evil is inescapable from generation to generation.
Rather than shocking and horrific, it feels a little stale. Any religious person could tell you that.
“The Devil All the Time” is streaming on Netflix.
Jillian Cheney is a Poynter-Koch fellow for Religion Unplugged who loves consuming good culture and writing about it. She also reports on American Protestantism and Evangelical Christianity. You can find her on Twitter @_jilliancheney.