Megachurch comedy 'Honk for Jesus' never quite finds its soul

Hollywood has never considered religion off-limits for derision.

The subject is rife for filmmakers, many of whom are non-believers, who wish to explore the folly of fallible humans covering up their many faults. Whether it be temptation of flesh or fortune, a natural tension exists in a sanctuary of faith among a flock of mortals. Stories of hypocrisy, greed and sex never have higher stakes than when one’s soul is up for grabs.

Being released in theaters and on the streaming service Peacock tomorrow, “Honk for Jesus. Save Your Soul.” ventures into a newer sub-topic: the megachurch.

Gargantuan vessels of worship brimming with thousands of people looking for salvation and some big-league entertainment every Sunday morning. The spectacle heightens the story, allowing for bigger characters, exaggerated foibles and greater stakes. Personally speaking, for someone who likes the quiet stuffiness of a traditional service, they are mind-boggling displays and a source of sociological curiosity.

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I am unsure I could quite get in touch with my spiritual side with flames shooting from a stage and some third-rate musician blasting out Twenty One Pilots as part of the scripture reading.

But I digress. “Save Your Soul” does something I’ve not seen, focusing on a Black megachurch led by Lee-Curtis Childs (Sterling K. Brown) and his first lady Trinitie (Regina Hall) as they plot a comeback.

Lee-Curtis became ensnarled in a sex scandal and lost their congregation largely to a younger, ambitious church down the street. The details of that scandal are doled out over the course of the film as the tone grows more dramatic.

At the beginning, all the audience knows about the Childs’ megachurch is that it is defunct and they plan a “resurrection” on Easter Sunday. Trinitie also commissions a documentary crew to capture this period, in hopes it becomes an inspiring underdog story.

Already, “Save Your Soul” struggles with the format. There are moments it is clear we are watching the documentary footage. Sometimes we are not. Near the end, it becomes hard to tell if they’ve kept the mockumentary format or not. It's as though writer-director Adamma Ebo introduced the idea, then realized it didn’t push the narrative or she didn’t know what to do with it. All the same, it’s just confusing.

The humor at the beginning of the film also falls into a predictable pattern, devastating for the surprise required of comedy. Trinitie and/or Lee-Curtis are being interviewed and talk of something serious about their church or religion. Then they get distracted by some item of clothing and the conversation ends up just focusing on the brand of the suit or shoes or whatever. They catch themselves and try to overcorrect.

Usually the scene ends with Hall making a pained face, realizing they can’t stay on message. Rinse. Repeat.

If the joke didn’t work the first time, it gets rough the fifth time. Other than a really funny bit where a character compares themselves to Rocky Balboa, this is a main comedic thrust of “Save Your Soul.” Which is not to say the Childs’ form of “prosperity gospel” shouldn’t be mocked as the antithesis of Christ’s teaching. But there needs to be some creativity in it.

I kept going back to the HBO show “The Righteous Gemstones,” which lacerates big-box religion without mocking the religious. That show works because it creates deep, flawed characters and we see them struggle with their circumstances.

You might not be familiar with this show starring John Goodman, Danny McBride, Walton Goggins and others. But it explores how the family rose to power, found its money, and buried all its secrets all the while bathing everything in absurdist humor. If you can handle the bawdy tone, “Gemstones” is as good a comedy on modern American culture as you can find.

I would argue “Save Your Soul” struggles because we only see the aftermath of the crisis and the film is coy about the temptations that drives Lee-Curtis. The pathos driving the characters is either unexplored or well-hidden.

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By the time the film does reveal the details of the scandal, we’re halfway through a 100-minute movie. The humor clears out and we finally see what droves the Childs’ downfall, getting a glimpse of what “Save Your Soul” could have been. We see Brown deploy the same charms on would-be victims as he does from the pulpit.

Again, the idea that religious leaders use their powers of persuasion for nefarious means is not a new theme, but there’s an unsettling power brought by Brown’s performance in these moments.

Ebo’s camera does not turn away — there are two confrontation scenes all shot with a steady camera and little editing — providing an uneasy showcase for Brown’s abilities as an actor.

Religion, like anything else, shouldn’t be off the table when it comes to criticism or comedy. But “Honk for Jesus, Save Your Soul.” lacks conviction and has an ending where the message becomes muddled. It is a film that lost its way.

In real life, James Owen is a lawyer and executive director of energy policy group Renew Missouri. He created/wrote for Filmsnobs.com from 2001-2007 before an extended stint as an on-air film critic for KY3, the NBC affiliate in Springfield. He was named a Top 20 Artist under the Age of 30 by The Kansas City Star when he was much younger than he is now.

This article originally appeared on Columbia Daily Tribune: Megachurch comedy 'Honk for Jesus' never quite finds its soul