Written and directed by Michael Tolkin
Human nature proves too overpowering for even God in Michael Tolkin’s The Rapture, as a woman mired in ennui throws herself wholeheartedly into religion in search of fulfillment but ultimately finds herself incapable of getting over herself.
Sharon is a telephone operator, and you only need to look and listen to her for 10 seconds, or two calls, to know she hates her job. It’s boring, repetitive, and incessant. She’s desperate for her private life to provide purpose, but not even a hedonistic lifestyle that sees her cruise for couples with her partner-in-lust Vic seems to provide that spark. Sharon’s entire existence until now has been take it or leave it, her professional relationships lasting only a few seconds at a time, and her romantic ones hardly much longer.
Devotion is antithetical to Sharon’s way of life, but she’s at her wit’s end, so when some culty whispers overheard sends her spiraling down a religious rabbit hole and she emerges a born-again Christian, she breaks hard the other way. Turns out being a lamb of God is a lot more trying than being simply sinful, and in The Rapture, Sharon’s devotion to her new purpose is put to the ultimate test.
Like scripture, The Rapture possesses a simplified intensity where Tolkin paints with a vivid, if broad brush. A grayed-out cubicle hell traps Sharon at work, and as nightime comes and sexual urges reign, the walls seem to fall away in open-ended possibilities. Tolkin keeps it steamy and if he means to tell us Sharon’s nightlife isn’t all that fun, he doesn’t do a great job of it.
Mimi Rogers’ performance as Sharon is meant to keep us grounded. Even mid-coitus, she has the air of an aloof house cat, clearly living a life she’s already lived a thousand times. It’s made her arrogant and indifferent to those who want her, and Rogers injects lioness energy into her prowl. Her transformation is therefore all the more startling as Sharon gets religion, and her face clears, becoming unworried in the assurance she has so desperately sought. The journey Rogers takes us on as Sharon wanders the spiritual desert is most of the fun.
The Rapture is about the doubt that plagues us all, which stands in stark contrast to how it’s told. Tolkin’s script is a simple affair and the questions of the soul it concerns itself are only introduced towards the end after much time has been spent detailing the folly of giving yourself over to extremes. The majority of The Rapture is easy entertainment rooted in sensual stimulation in the shape of violence, or drama, so it’s too late when it finally starts grasping at something more. It’s definitely not rapture, not even ecstasy. Maybe just titillation and bemusement.
Mikkel Frederiksen 