Promised Land: An
Ecotheological Review
By The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade
Promised Land: An Ecotheological Review
By The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade
This movie was not what I expected. From the howls of the natural gas industry
slamming the film and attempting to keep it out of theatres, I expected a movie
depicting the big bad industry thugs battling the small-town citizens of a
rural Pennsylvania hamlet aided by intrepid environmentalists in a fight with a
Hollywood-style ending of good triumphing over corporate evil. But the film is much more nuanced, stunning
and chilling than I ever expected.
Interestingly, in the film’s depiction of small-town life,
no churches are shown, no clergy appear, no one prays. The film is virtually free of any religious
symbols or connotations – except for the title, which serves as a quiet subtext
for the film. The Promised Land alludes
to the land of Canaan, “the land of milk and honey” promised by God to the
Israelites in the Old Testament. The
theme of a deity promising land to a people for their settlement and sustenance
is woven right through the American myth of Manifest Destiny, which is used by
an invading, dominant group to justify overtaking a native population, doing
violence to them, displacing them, and exploiting the land’s resources.
Thus some interesting questions were raised for me even
before taking my seat in the darkened theatre, and even after the closing scene
as I sat in discomfited silence, reeling from what I’d seen. To whom has this shale-packed land been
promised? Who has the right to promise
their land to another, even if the risks to water, air, animal and human life within
and beyond your property lines are enormous?
What promises have we made to our forefathers and foremothers who
entrusted the land to us? What promises do
we make to our children who may rightfully hope for streams, fields, air and
aquifiers that can support their lives well into the future?
And what promises does the industry make? The film’s land-man (salesman for the
industry) offers promises to all who he meets as he tries to get the townspeople to
sign leases for their land: “clean”
energy, energy “independence,” community “salvation,” and personal “salvation”
through the Dollar Almighty (“You – you could be a millionaire,” one land-owner
is told).
It becomes apparent in the film that these promises are
little more than lies used as cover for a sinister land-grab that will benefit
only the top executives of the multi-billion-dollar "Global" corporation. The front man for this company is the
handsome, patriotic, home-grown, plaid-shirted fella in his grandfather’s worn
boots (of course, the shirt was purchased at the local country store just before
setting off on his sales-quest). What
makes the “land management” character played by Matt Damon (“Steve Butler”) so
compelling is the extent to which he genuinely believes these promises
himself. He fervently believes in the
gospel he is proclaiming to the town and its citizens, that natural gas is “safe”
and “well-regulated,” that it is the only viable alternative to coal and oil,
that having every landowner lease their land to the industry is the only way to
save their dying community. And that
what he is offering them is the “ultimate liberator,” what he calls “f* - you”
money for people trapped in seemingly endless hard-times. Like another itinerate preacher who
proclaimed release to the captives, Butler announces the good news that
salvation has come to them, is in fact right under their feet. They need only sign on the dotted line and
collect their “free money.”
But there is no doubt that just behind the beer-drinking,
confidence-inviting demeanor of Damon’s character is the true gasser-mafioso
who does not hesitate to use his financial muscles to threaten the town’s supervisor
with an offer he can’t refuse – accept the cheap pay-off to sell out his
constituents, or lose it all. So while the Little League teams are playing in
spiffy new uniforms sporting the company’s logo in a field draped with the
company’s signage, Steve Butler and his “it’s only a job” partner-in-crime (the
always convincing Frances McDormand) knowingly make empty promises of enormous
wealth to impoverished landowners. In all likelihood, however, they will end up
with land they can neither live on nor sell after the poisoned water kills the
livestock and turns the greenscapes to brownfields.
Yet the film insists that Steve Butler is “not a bad guy.” He
is actually “a good man,” who has been disillusioned by his experience of
broken promises as a young man growing up in a similar small town whose factory
closed up, rendering the community lifeless.
The movie’s treatment of this character is very interesting, especially
in contrast to the rogue environmentalist brilliantly played by John Krasinski,
a paragon of authenticity and likeability.
The rivalry between the two men is intense because they are playing for
high stakes – the heart and soul of the town, and the heart and soul of a local
townswoman played by the lovely Rosemarie DeWitt. As an elementary school teacher, her mission
is to teach her students “how to take care of something,” a theme that becomes
the pivot point for the movie.
The other important figure for the protagonist is Frank
Yates, the local high school science teacher and retired engineer eminently
portrayed by Hal Holbrooke, who respected voice raises legitimate concern at
the town hall meeting. “This may not be
the saving grace you think it will be,” he says to his neighbors. “The potential for error is just too
high. You have to admit that fracking is
far from a perfect process. I still have
questions. Let’s put it to a vote. Because this may not be in the best interest
of our town.” For the next three weeks, neighbors
are pitted against each other, since the industry is forcing them to choose
sides in an all-or-nothing bid for their land and community. It’s not a fair fight, concedes the defeated
Krasinski at the end, who had only flyers of dead farm animals and burning-farm
demonstrations in the face of hundreds of thousands of dollars spent by Global
to buy their way into the town.
But it wasn’t until the last few minutes of the movie that I
realized why the gas industry is up in arms about this film. This movie unveils the truth about the
tactics of these corporations in a way that shocked even me, an avowed “fractivist”
who has seen what these companies are capable of doing. It serves as a chilling warning for those of
us engaged in this work of resisting the corporate fascism of the fracking industry
that we must be very careful who we trust.
“Where we are now, where we’re headed – we might be betting
more than we think,” is one of the final lines of the film. And in the end, that’s all fracking is – a
big gamble. And as anyone with a
gambling addiction can tell you – the promise, the lure, the temptation of easy
money and instant wealth is enough to put your entire life, and the lives of
those with whom you are charged to protect, at grave risk. We are left to wonder at the end of the film if
the true promise will be realized – the promise of God’s creation to provide us
with what we need if we relinquish our greed, renounce our addictions, and
rediscover the true grace that is given to us from a God who does not demand
the sacrifice of our land, our earth-kin and our children. Clean, sustainable energy, communities built
on mutual trust, and contentment with the simple gifts of modest living, the
beauty of nature, healthy families, and faithful friends – these are the real
“promised land.”
