The Robe (1953)

Biblical epic “The Robe” is more akin to “Ben-Hur” than any film about Christ. It follows a (fictional) man inspired by Christ, here Marcellus Gallio (Richard Burton), the rich, man-ho, authority-bucking Roman centurion who oversaw the very crucifixion of the Son of God. The titular red robe is that worn by Jesus, dropped at the cross, and won by Gallio in a bet. The robe, or course, isn’t just cloth. It’s the whole blood of salvation thing set to wake up Gallio from his life’s stupor. Too dumb for analogies? Dude also literally gets Jesus’ blood on his hands. The rest of the film tracks Gallio as he becomes a believer. Burton gnashes teeth down to the gums and when he gets that robe near his face, he “sucks” it up like Frank Drebin wrestling with that pillow in “Naked Gun.” Tin sword fights on stairs abound, too. Very “Robin Hood” sans tights. Thank the Lord. Still, for all the unintended laughs, many of director Henry Koster’s images are knock out: A distraught Judas walking off into the night, a tree in the distance is stunning. The end-scene “walk to heaven”? Just ick. B

The Da Vinci Code (2006)

Here’s my deal with “The Da Vinci Code,” the box-office smash based on the Dan Brown best-seller. Legions of Christians gnawed their fists off because book and film dared shove an Easter Egg history shocker that Jesus Christ was married to Mary Magdalene inside a ridiculous 10-cent thriller about a professor of (snooze) symbology. But why? Both open thusly: At the Louvre, an albino monk  assassin (!) point-blank shoots an old man in the stomach, but grandpa rises and walks about, no blood, moving artwork and leaving arcane blue-light clues for the professor hero, and THEN strips naked, and sprawls out Da Vinci Vitruvian Man style, and dies without moving a twitch. If you can get past any of that to get pissy over Jesus’ sex life, than you need prayer. And brains. And I just touched on the plot holes. Some say “Code” attacks faith. Bull. It attacks thought. The Bible, with all its wonder, is more logical. Ron Howard directs on autopilot, Tom Hanks is adequate as the hero, and Audrey Tautou (“Amelie”) tries out English as the heroine. The sole highlight: Hans Zimmer’s fantastic score. It works miracles. D+