Mark Reviews Movies: HAIL SATAN?

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Review by Mark Dujsik | May 2, 2019

It would be irresponsible to say that the Satanic Temple is a joke. Even if one believed that notion, stating it would just be giving ammunition to the organization's opponents, who mostly seem to be fundamentalist Christians and members of the Christian right, working to demolish the line of separation between church and state for the benefit of their own, favored religion.

In fact, it could be considered bigoted to say such a thing now, since the organization was just recently recognized as an official religion by the IRS. I'm still not saying that the Satanic Temple is a joke, but after watching Hail Satan?, it's also impossible not to imagine the now-church's members laughing with glee when they received word about that official government determination.

What can be said comfortably, though, is that the Satanic Temple started as a bit of a joke. The point was to mock and criticize the idea of Christianity as the dominant religion in the United States—or at least the view that its dominance meant that some either assumed or acted as if that faith tradition was unofficially the de facto, official religion of the country. Director Penny Lane's documentary begins with what's essentially a work of performance art in 2013.

Florida governor Rick Scott had signed a bill into state law that would allow for prayer in public schools. The joke, of course, is that, if one kind of prayer is allowed within government-run institutions, then all kinds of prayers should be allowed. As long as we're working under the assumption that prayer is allowed in public schools, that conclusion—of including all religions—is Constitutionally true. If the government can't give preference to one religion, it must allow for all, including, say, a faith that holds Satan as the supreme, worship-worthy deity.

It's hilarious here to watch how people really, really don't get the joke. It's equally fascinating to see how, over the years, something that started as pure, political satire grows into a functioning, global, and belief-based organization, complete with chapters across the states and in different countries, as well as a set of seven tenets that might fit nicely on a marble monument, to be displayed in front of a government building one day.

It was such a monument—not endorsing Satanism, of course—that gained national publicity for the Satanic Temple. After the Oklahoma state government decided to erect a monument of the Ten Commandments outside the state capitol building in 2012, the rebellious organization again thought it was only fair that the government recognized all religions equally.

Hence, two years later, they raised money from the public to create a statue of the deity Baphomet, a character invented to condemn members of a medieval religious organization that eventually became a figure in certain occult circles. The choice, as it turns out, was rather prophetic, considering how the organization took on a life of its own once people started to hear about it and to embrace its jovially mischievous ways.

The statue would be of a man with a goat's head, sitting on a throne with two children standing aside it, staring up with loving adoration at the figure. The statue, according to the temple's co-founder/spokesperson Lucien Greaves (an alias on top of other aliases), would even have a lap for people to sit and pose for pictures. If a person doesn't get the joke after hearing that fact, there is, perhaps, no helping that particular individual.

Undoubtedly, Lane has made little more than a promotional piece for the Satanic Temple, championing its values as, well, a champion of secular values. Their critics believe that they are either, in the least generous view, actually evil or, in the most generous, mocking the concept of religion. The first option seems unlikely, since one must actually believe in the Christian version of God in order to believe in Satan, and it's clear that members of the Satanic Temple don't hold that initial belief. Instead, Satan is upheld as the archetypical rebel—a symbol and only such of going against the status quo and the concept of an authoritarian requirement of faith. They don't necessarily hate religion. Instead, it's seen it as a private matter, to be neither infringed upon nor endorsed by the government.

As a promotional piece, it's effective enough, but more importantly, the film also works as an insider's view of how to run what's essentially an on-going piece of guerilla theater. The various happenings are often funny, as is the winking and nodding way in which Greaves and his fellow higher-ups talk about them. In public, the members have mastered the straight-faced delivery of plausible deniability.

Lane remains, perhaps, a bit too uncritical, especially when a particular piece of performance art falls flat (There's a bit protesting anti-abortion protestors that even the participants don't understand, and an afterlife baptism in a graveyard is only funny because of the incompetent righteousness of the local police, saying they want to charge the "offenders" without having a crime with which to charge them). When one chapter actually takes the concept of open political rebellion to its logical conclusion (calling for chaos and violence), the response from the main office feels like the kind of spin that they'd decry from anyone else.

Despite its promotional tone and approach, Hail Satan? remains a funny examination of how this group turns religious hypocrisy on its head, as well as a fascinating sociological study of the need for communal experiences. This may have started as a joke, but the most absurd part of it all is how serious it has become.

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