Joseph and the amazing technicalities he chose to overlook.
Joseph didn’t choose the cuck life, it chose him – or so the story goes in Journey To Bethlehem, a Disney original movie-adjacent retelling of the ante-nativity that’s more fun that it ought to be but still less fun than it could have been.
It’s a film that sets out to answer the question nobody asked: “What if Jesus Christ Superstar met Aladdin by way of Mamma Mia!?” With a cast boasting more Christian pop stars than a TBN reality TV reunion special and a soundtrack eager to inject the first Noel with a healthy dose of Spotify-friendly vibes, this musical extravaganza teeters on the fine line between divine inspiration and blasphemous parody.
The original tale as old as time, Mary (Fiona Palomo) and Joseph (Milo Manheim of Disney’s Zombies – which may go some way to explaining his stepson’s revenant abilities later in life [spoilers]) are betrothed in an arranged marriage but the night before the nuptials, Mary is visited by Gabriel to inform her that God has chosen her for the most impactful prima nocte in human history. After that, there’s doubt, faith, romans, a census and a lot of singing and dancing and a deeply unexpected homage to Return Of The Jedi before all is calm and all is bright.
First things first: this film is not subtle. Subtlety presumably skip-stepped town right after the census was announced. The film makes the bold – and, given who made it, unexpected – decision to make Mary something of a feminist iconoclast. She’s not into the idea of the married life and has her heart set on being a teacher, something she’s not allowed to be because she’s probably not even supposed to be able to read and write. Her father is particularly put out by his daughter’s ambitions which is odd given he’s the one who taught her the scriptures in the first place. Anyway, after a song about getting married (which pales in comparison to the one in The Muppets Take Manhattan), Mary visits the local market and immediately handles Joseph’s plums – although she doesn’t know who he is yet because it’s a biblical meet-cute!
Palomo gives Mary a kind of wide-eyed stubbornness that’s actually kind of fun while Milo Manheim infuses Joseph with a stoic nobility – at least he does after have a dance fight with his dark side that plays out like a musical scrapyard scene from Superman III. Mary and Joseph’s story takes them from Nazareth, where they are about to be married, and does exactly what it says on the tin, journeying to Bethlehem, complete with toe-tapping numbers and dance routines that seem to be aiming for “youth pastor flash mob” energy. Palomo brings a sincerity to Mary that is occasionally overshadowed by the choreography swirling around her, especially when she is aghast at God’s plan for her (just wait until she hears what the catholic church’s marketing department has in store), while Manheim’s Joseph constantly feels like he’s just one heartfelt duet away from reverting to his Disney Channel roots. The pair’s chemistry is earnest, if not entirely magnetic, but it always feels imbalanced as Mary puts her baby and her god and even her donkey before her man.
The supporting cast accompanying Mary and Joseph on their Journey To Bethlehem is where things really get interesting. Antonio Banderas’ King Herod seems to have wandered in from a completely different film, and quite possibly have had one too many holy spirits before venturing from his trailer to sit atop his Cave Of Wonders-inspired throne. Half Puss-In-Boots and half-cut, camp villainy is the order of the day and his musical numbers are undoubtedly one of the film’s highlights, combining scenery-chewing theatricality with vocal legerdemain that suggest the film should have used him more than it does as he seeks out not a diamond in the rough but the king of kings in amongst the common folk.
There’s more than a whiff of Lord Of The Rings about Mary and Joseph’s journey across the biblical middle east and more than a trace of Tolkien’s Eagles in the film’s angels – led by an underused and over-costumed Lecrae – and the way they’re used (often as literal vox dei ex machina) throughout the film, although their celestial flair is more often aesthetic than narrative. The three wise men and their parallel journey is also covered, providing structure, exposition and comic relief alongside their more customary gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. That comic relief is certainly essential given the star that guides them often has its starburst effect in the shape of a crucifix, which is kind of morbid, when you think about it.
The songs are as polished as you’d expect, given the array of talent behind them, but the lyrics often feel like they’re trying too hard to sound contemporary while still maintaining a veneer of reverence. It’s a tricky balance that the film doesn’t always nail, leaving some numbers feeling more like interludes at a holiday pop concert than integral pieces of storytelling. The choreography, on the other hand, oscillates between breathtaking and baffling. There’s a sequence involving shepherds that could easily double as an audition tape for Galilee’s Got Talent.
Visually, Journey to Bethlehem is a mixed bag. It might be co-writer/ director Adam Ander’s first theatrical feature but it’s pretty clear what he watched in preparation. The production design leans heavily into “storybook chic,” with sets and costumes and locations that look stunning in stills but occasionally feel out of place in motion. The sweeping desert vistas and glowing night skies are undeniably beautiful, but they’re often undercut by a clumsy use of CGI and lighting that would seem gauche in a nightclub.
To its credit, Journey To Bethlehem‘s heart is in the right place. There’s an earnestness to its storytelling that’s hard to dislike, even when the execution falters or it gets a little, well, preachy. It’s clear that everyone involved genuinely believes in the message they’re trying to convey, although quite how we go from the source material to Mary clearing the way for Herod’s son Antipater (Joel Smallbone) to stand above the prophesied infant Jesus, so tender and mild, and basically dare him, Palpatine-style to “strike him down with all of your hatred and your journey towards the dark side will be complete”. It’s the last – and most bizarre – in a long series of homages to other movies, coming quickly on the heels of Mary’s donkey Fig having his own Disney-brand animal sidekick moment and there’s something endearing about a film so unabashedly sincere in its attempt to bring a modern flair to a timeless tale, although it could have elevated itself to blockbuster status if Fig had been given more to do and a touch more of Shrek‘s Donkey’s moxie.
Ultimately, Journey to Bethlehem is a lot like a Christmas pageant put on by a particularly enthusiastic and “down with the kids” church community theatre group: it’s a little uneven, a little over-the-top, but undeniably full of heart. Whether it becomes a holiday classic or a festive curiosity will depend on how much religious and secular audiences alike are willing to embrace its idiosyncrasies. As far as this agnostic is concerned, this retelling of the birth of some people’s reason for the season is an unexpectedly camp, toe-tapping hoot.
