The film L’Argent (1983) is about how far people will go to get money (l’argent en francais). One major problem
with greed is that people who are enthralled by it will go to virtually any
length to get money. Even a religion can unconsciously warped to separate greed from earning and having wealth. Historically, Christian thought on greed and wealth has shifted from anti- to pro-wealth. Whether enabled by their religion or not, greedy people will think nothing of other people being hurt in the
process. Hence, greed can be reckoned as selfishness incarnate. To claim that
money is God not only puts a lower good above a higher one, but also manifests
self-idolatry.
“Well, I’m not waiting around
for universal happiness which, believe me, will be boring as hell. I want to be
happy now, in my own way. O money, God incarnate, what wouldn’t we do for you?”
says Yvon’s prison-roommate. “Given how corrupt the world is,” he continues, “and
the impossibility of it changing, they who tell us to obey promise a future
happiness.” Is money truly God incarnate? Does it even make sense that that
which transcends the limits of human cognition, sensibility, and perception, as
St. Denis maintained back in the sixth century, can be incarnate as material
things? Is this not an oxymoron? “What wouldn’t we do for you?” follows from
money being God incarnate, for no limits exist consistent with following that
which is God; everything else is of a lesser priority as only God is sacred.
Lastly, would universal happiness really be boring? Compared to a world in
which people are rude and aggressive, I would take the inherently satisfying
luster of happiness. Perhaps the prisoner likes a world of disagreements and
even fighting. In other words, we must consider the source—a prisoner.
How does Yvon come to find
himself in prison? He has violently killed a family in order to rob them. A
perfect example of the wanton disregard for other people’s welfare in following
money as God incarnate. To the family’s
hard-working woman, who is willing to be task-oriented but not inordinate in
the pursue of money as criminals are wont to be, Yvon asks, “Why not just throw
yourself in the river? Do you expect a miracle?” She replies flatly, “I expect
nothing.” Money is not her God incarnate.
The filmmaking reflects the
woman’s task-orientation. Conversations are monotone, direct, and
purpose-economized without any small talk.
Hence, a lot of silence exists, which gives that film-world a harsh
quality. When people interact, they do so like robots. Movements are precise,
limited to purposes. The sound also is precise in emphasizing tasks, such as
that of closing a door fully. Human beings are purpose-driven, intentional,
beings.
After killing all of the
family except the woman, Yvon asks her for money. There is none, so he kills
her. What wouldn’t he do for money? In
a twisted sense, he turns himself in as if redemption were in the confessing.
In that story-world, the good lies in confessing rather than not viewing money
as God incarnate in the first place. In spite of his confession, he is still
legally, moral, and religiously on the hook for having gone too far in killing
for money. Confessing is the least that he could do, once having committed such
a violent crime. The latent self-idolatry in the selfishness that lies at the
root of greed is protected by denial concerning the self-as-god assumption.
Similarly, the God-incarnate status of money—that is, God as sourced in our
human realm rather than transcendent—blinds Yvon from the fact that he goes too
far in the pursuit of money, for it is merely a measure of economic value in our realm.
See God's Gold: Beneath the Shifting Sands of Christian Thought on Profit-seeking and Wealth, available at Amazon.
