Where are the Mormons in the Movies?
At the turn of the nineteenth century, American classical music was in a place of unoriginal floundering; most American composers were widely thought to be just derivatives of more successful artists flourishing in Europe. It wasn’t until ragtime and jazz came along that America developed its own art-music identity, one that grew into styles in classical, broadway, and jazz. Jazz was the savior of American music, with its connection to and origin in the everyday people of the country, and its ability to be accessible for anyone. It’s a perfect example of the idea that the best art comes from a culture’s lived experience. So what’s the “Mormon jazz” equivalent? My theory is that we might be able to find it in film.
I’ve seen Mormons portrayed in three different ways on screen.
The first is the faith-affirming, friendly next door neighbor that every church-produced movie wants you to see and believe, but really only exists for Mormons themselves. They’re the kids next door, or maybe more accurately, the nuclear family next door in your Utah suburban neighborhood. You might find this specific Mormon on the shelves of a Deseret Book, or in the documentary meant to be a flagship missionary effort: “Meet the Mormons.”
Next are the harmless but exceptionally weird folks who tell TikTokers they would rather drink a cup of cooking oil than coffee and believe Cain is actually Bigfoot. When Trey Parker and Matt Stone talk about Mormonism and all its little quirks in things like “South Park” or “The Book of Mormon” musical—but ultimately endorse the idea of love and service—I think it works well in this second category. This idea of Mormonism doesn’t hurt anyone, but it’s not a community; it’s a collection of kitschy folklore and out-of-context interviews.
Finally, we have the terrible bigots whose institution will always be a part of racism, sexism, homophobia and every other prejudice imaginable. A lot of Mormon true crime falls under this category (think “Murder among the Mormons,” “Under the Banner of Heaven,” or even “Keep Sweet: Pray and Obey”) as well as really anything published by an ex-Mormon with a bone to pick. Some days, I can’t say I blame them; institutional religion can be genuinely harmful.
All of this begs the question: are there really any nuanced depictions of Mormonism in media? Not “nuanced” in the sense of nuanced belief, but rather, Mormon characters who actually act like the people I know in real life rather than a grotesque caricature? These portrayals contain only fragments of the truth that is life in our community, and as such, don’t appeal to me. Are there Mormon characters who don’t exist solely as their religion but instead as three-dimensional people? I’m a Mormon who wants to see myself in the movies. Where should I look?
These shallow portrayals seem to me to be a symptom of a greater problem in Mormon art: we don’t have a distinctive voice. If we look at the state of Mormon art today, it feels much the same as the nineteenth century American musical landscape where nothing of note is being made. Creators either pull from the same tired wells we know—those of absolute praise or anger—or they let the Church make artistic decisions, resulting in a spin that doesn’t resonate with those outside the Mormon sphere. We’re not creating with a sense of respect for ourselves and our identities, and as such, Mormon media right now feels like it’s in an almost limbo, waiting for the spark to give it a sense of authentic personality. Those outside the sphere are more likely to see us as punching bags when we simplify our identities so much, and it eventually creates a downward spiral where no one attached to the religion wins, whether active or not.
So again, what is our saving grace, our figurative jazz—“Mormon jazz?” Where do we need to look so that when we make art about ourselves, we make it authentically, in a way that’s true to our culture and our people?
Our media landscape right now reminds me of how missionaries will teach about other churches, saying that they might have a little bit of the truth but they don’t have all of it. There’s a problem here though: both the members of the church and the surrounding culture are more complex than any one perspective we’re being served in art right now. I don’t want to spend my life hearing about how true and great and perfect the church is because I have firsthand experience that it’s not, but I also don’t need to hear about how awful or weird it is. Mormon culture is so rich and deep, filled with nooks and crannies of the good and the bad, the outrageous and the banal, that it’s demeaning to not give it a fair rap.
To me, the answer starts with documentary filmmaking and telling stories about the experiences of individuals, not those of a collective, inevitably misrepresented whole. Stories about the members themselves, especially ones that aren’t concerned with creating a palatable version of Mormonism, are the ones that have resonated with me most strongly. These are the stories that contain the nuance and complexity! Films like The Mission, New York Doll, and even Napoleon Dynamite (it may not be explicitly marketed as “Mormon,” but anyone who says it isn’t is slightly ridiculous) all are much more worried about the people at the core of our stories, rather than preaching to a new audience or coddling an existing one. These films understand that the most authentic way to show what life as a Mormon is like is simply to show life as a Mormon.
On the other hand, Films like Meet the Mormons (an LDS-produced documentary) don’t necessarily do a great job at creating authenticity because they want to clean up the image of the Church and, in the end, portray a life that isn’t as universal as its filmmakers want you to believe. Meet the Mormons puts so much effort into showing how easy and great it is to be the exact type of member the Church wants you to be, but a much more interesting story is left in its wake: that of the contrasting lives of six different people with a unifying religious thread but such different lives. Instead, we get a PR ad that erases the nuances of life as a black man in the Church, of being a mother with a career in a culture that, until recently, frowned upon that, of living through some of the most interesting changes to happen in the church from WWII until now. On the surface it might look like it’s showcasing the people at the center of the culture, but it leaves a sense of personality to be desired.
We are such a diverse people, and letting an institution tell us what we are only serves to further alienate us from the world when instead, we could be telling our own stories and connecting with others. People and faith come in all shapes and sizes, and recognizing that is an important step to coming closer to creating an authentic voice. Mormons—both those active and those who have left the church—are part of a unique culture, which means that we can offer some incredibly interesting stories, ones that can resonate with a wide range of people, whether part of this culture or not. We just need to learn to listen to the people playing the jazz in our own community, and break out of the mold of inauthentic media and art that we’ve created for ourselves.