DVD Review: Conversations with God

In 1992 Neale Donald Walsch's life was a wreck. Divorced, sporadically employed and battling homelessness, Walsch sat down one night and scribbled out an angry letter to God. That’s when he claims a miracle happened. "To my surprise, as I prepared to toss my pen aside, my hand remained poised over the paper, as if held there by some invisible force. Abruptly, the pen began moving on its own." What allegedly ensued was "an uncommon dialogue" in which Walsch purports to have conducted a sort of Q&A with the Almighty.

It turned out that others were interested in what his dialogue partner had to say. The resulting book series, Conversations with God, sold over seven million copies. Now a movie depicting Walsch’s life is in movie stores.

The following review takes a look at the film and considers an appropriate Christian response. Walsch’s tale may be a tall one, but one thing is true: he struck a chord with the culture and showed that people are desperate for a fresh word from God. The film, directed by Stephen Simon, (Somewhere in Time, What Dreams May Come) is shot in Walsch’s native Oregon and concentrates on his life before his unlikely transformation from dumpster diver to jet setting guru. Henry Czerny (Clear and Present Danger, Mission Impossible) plays Walsch’s character, moving through the rain-soaked sets bearded and beleaguered, like a modern day Moses stuck in a wilderness phase. The narrative is punctuated with flash forwards to Walsch’s successful future, where adoring crowds hang on his every word.

Before his encounter with God, the Walsch character suffers a string of mishaps and indignities that land him in a camp ground for the homeless. On his long road back to respectable citizen he hears "the voice." It’s Walsch’s, but hokey and officious. "Have you had enough yet? Are you ready now?" Walsch grabs his notepad and begins recording the surge of aphorisms. Some are silly. When Walsch says he’s "sure as hell" he wants answers to his questions, the voice responds, "Wouldn’t it be nice to be sure as heaven?" Others are downright dangerous. "I don’t want anything from you other than for you to be happy. But you think you’re below me…I do not love 'good' more than 'bad.' Hitler went to Heaven." For the most part Walsch’s god traffics in clichés and pop psychology. "You have a fear-based reality…Love is the answer…You are in the constant act of creating yourself."

The movie is less compelling than the book. Czerny’s performance is the one bright spot in an otherwise lackluster film. He plays the down-on-his luck loner like he’s been there and his large, haunted eyes make the character’s pain believable. Yet the performance doesn’t quite atone for a tedious narrative slowed by sections (like Walsch’s homeless stint) that are overly long and somewhat superfluous to the story’s development. By the time Walsch’s character experiences his divine encounter and subsequent rise to fame only those who have read the books will still be tuned in.

But of course that doesn’t mean that the movie won’t do well. Walsch has millions of readers and they are rabidly loyal. The picture could capitalize on the books historic success, propelling Walsch and his message to even greater popularity.

Meanwhile Christians will find a thousand reasons to make fun of the whole phenomenon. There’s Walsch himself. Though he presents himself as God’s reluctant mouthpiece, his background (before his homeless days) as a reporter, editor, and radio director betrays a media virtuoso quite capable of masterminding a publishing conquest. Then there’s the heretical nostrum he serves up to the credulous public. Not only are his ideas vacuous; they’re morally repugnant and theologically flawed. Indeed his account of a non-theistic, ethically indifferent deity appears to be a conscious refutation of Christian doctrine.

However Walsch has proven an able engager of the culture and on this point he must be taken seriously. With accessible prose he offers people answers to their most perplexing questions, all from a god utterly immanent and available. Donning the divine perspective he writes, "Unendingly have you beseeched me, reveal yourself, explain yourself. I am doing so here in terms so plain you cannot misunderstand. I am here, right here, right now."

Is there a lesson here for us? Might there be a connection between Walsch’s vast cultural appeal and the failure of Christians to provide dynamic encounters with God? It’s certainly worth a thought. There is something irresistible about a fresh stream of revelation, something that makes people thirsty. We have that stream and it’s the real thing. Walsch’s achievements serve as a painful reminder. When it doesn’t flow freely in our midst, people go elsewhere–and swallow just about anything.