Kudzu Film Festival documentary presents a poignant account of the state of our nation

For more than four years now, I've been watching as many as three and four movies every single weekend. And though I've been largely numbed by it, there still exists in the back of my mind the realization that the value we Americans place on entertainment (not to mention most of what we watch) is completely ridiculous.

Is it any wonder, when we worship at the altar of entertainment and economics, that our educational system is crumbling? That so many of our kids graduate with more knowledge in their heads about different styles of Nike sneakers and Britney Spears lyrics than how to write a coherent, thoughtful essay or perform simple addition, much less enter the world with a sense of individual self-worth?

We are a nation clouded by tremendously contradicting principles about what is important, and that our kids are angry, rebellious, disillusioned and confused shouldn't be a surprise if we're paying any attention at all. (Such behavior is at least evidence they're aware of the fundamental hypocrisy on some level or another.) And yet we continue to support this mad, mad system with our dollars and our brains.

The terrorist attacks seem to have spawned not just an overwhelming sense of patriotism, seen everywhere we look with the display of the American flag; they've also led us toward God -- haven't they? It sounds odd to utter that phrase right here in a film column, but all across our country there are banners and signs: God Bless America, they proclaim.

I keep wondering how and when God started figuring into this way of life we seem to have been living so comfortably, spending our $20 and two-plus hours at the movie theater or football games, while only a fraction of us bother to go to church, and would scoff at the idea of dropping $20 in the offering plate. It seems another in a long line of contradictions.

With those thoughts swirling about mid-consciousness in my entertainment-filled brain, I was especially intrigued by one film in particular that's featured in the Kudzu Film Festival, a documentary titled A Crisis of Faith: The American Dilemma.

Producer/director D.J. Kadagian has put the hard questions about faith and spirituality in America into the hands of a few great theologians and philosophers, among them, Sam Keen, Richard Rohr OFM, Jean Houston and Allen Dwight Callahan. And what they reveal, especially since the film was made prior to the terrorist attacks, is amazing and profound -- so much so that I can't help but wish that as many people in our country would see this movie as any of the countless, mindless blockbusters we flock to every weekend.

"We in the West now have our faces in the mud of our own limitations, of what we can't do," notes Rohr. "We can get to the moon, but we can't create a healthy family ... we can create a polio vaccine, but fathers and sons can't talk to one another. So what kind of victories are these ... when we seem to be winning at the so-called top, but losing at the very real bottom?"

And we all know what we do to escape the realization that we are failing on this level: We shut it out with movies, TV, sports, video games.

Each philosopher delves into a number of topics with chockfull, poignant statements. And though there is a very well-defined account of our need for spirituality, the film doesn't pound the pulpit, or even limit itself to any particular religion or faith. Buddhism is discussed in the same way that Christianity is.

And as for my aforementioned question about how and when God started figuring into our daily lives, the answer to that is at the heart of the film. It seems that while we as a culture have lived in this weird denial, in times of suffering it's quite common that people turn to faith.

To that end, the film poses this: "If you have a healthy spirituality, you know what to do with your pain and your suffering, and it becomes a great teacher. So instead of closing you down, it in fact opens you up and leads you to greater depth."