Yes, Virginia, there is a dove and an olive branch

While I found the breakdown of Aronofsky's use of the biblical account in the Slate article instructive, I also found that the author, Miriam Krule, covered much of what I would have if I had written this all the night I went to the movies. The film and its critics were practically screaming for a breakdown of just what appears in the Bible, so I read it again that night.

Of course, I published my own thoughts about the Watchers and the industrialization of Cain, but instead of copying Ms. Krule's format, I thought I might frame the rest of my interpretations using my old stand-by, internet comments.

Some question the purpose of comparing the film and the Bible (let alone Many Waters). "It's a myth," they say. Well, I certainly hope those same people have never criticized a director for straying from source material of a more substantial nature, like the Harry Potter series. The adaptation of novels to film is another element we must remember as we consider Noah, because all filmmakers select the material from their sources, embellishing and sometimes leaving things out altogether. Remember Hermione's pro-house elf organization, SPEW? Totally cut from the movie version...

Other commenters stress that Aronofsky was under no obligation to adhere at all to the Bible; they wade into dangerous territory, baiting each other with comments that the story is untrue or to get to the truth you must consider the epic of Gilgamesh, not the Bible. I'd rather question why viewers expect adherence to "facts" in any movie and give my conclusions about the effects of the deviations made in the film.

The changes Aronofsky made--and I do consider them changes from the biblical story--allowed for greater clarity when it comes to Noah's relationships with his family: specifically with his wife and his second son, Ham. After Noah gets drunk and Ham found him naked, the biblical account offers the most confusing part of the story:

[Noah] said, "A curse on Canaan! He will be a slave to his brothers. Give praise to the Lord, the God of Shem! Canaan will be the slave of Shem. May God cause Japheth to increase! May his descendants live with the people of Shem! Canaan will be the slave of Japheth."  - Genesis 9:25-27

Canaan of course refers to Ham and his descendants, and I'm not one of those who views these verses as evidence of sodomy. Call me optimistic. In the film, Shem and Japheth do demonstrate the biblical taboo of seeing their father naked, but Ham stays several steps away, not helping his father up. Ham has up to this point struggled with his father's mission, and I found him to be one of the most emotionally gripping characters of the entire cast. Why curse him, as Noah does in the Bible? Why does he leave, as he does in the film?

As a younger sister, this preference of one son (or two) over another has always bugged me. Why love Jacob more than Esau? Why show preference for Able? (This questioning by no means acquits Cain of what he does later.) It appears to me that Aronofsky is also asking such questions, and one of the biggest deviations made in the film ratchets up the conflict between father and son: Tubal-Cain as a stow-away.

Ham helps him, even plots revenge on Noah, but Ham is also shocked by Tubal-Cain's recklessness towards the animals on board. The conflict within Ham is just as riveting as the one between father and son, as Noah the anti-hero and Tubal-Cain the villain battle one last time. The son ultimately chooses family over all else, even though that choice does not solve his problems: being alone without the possibility of his own family, first and foremost.

I'd like to offer up this conflict, both the biblical account and the film's embellishment, as a proxy for what is missing: the voice of God. In the Bible, many a verse begins with "And God said..." However, we hear no heavenly voice, see no heavenly figure, and in some cases, we aren't even clued in to the visions Noah has. Again, I think the goal is realism. Instead of the Monty Python version of God speaking from a cloud, we get silence or strange dreams, things to be interpreted. Isn't that more like how the Holy Spirit has communicated with men in the Bible? A burning bush, dreams of cattle dying, not straightforward speeches.

God speaking to Arthur and his knights in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, 1975

Oh stop your grovelling! If there's one thing I can't stand it's when people grovel! And don't apologize! Every time I try to talk to someone it's "Sorry this" or "Forgive me that" or "I'm not worthy! - God, Monty Python and the Holy Grail

The relationship between father and son is analogous to that between God and human. There is confusion about what the other one is after and conflict between the desires of both that drives them apart. To me, it is a beautiful metaphor of fate and free will, that timeless preoccupation of many a writer and artist. Ham's own will is to find a wife and start his own family. Noah's will is for Ham and the entire family to perish as the rest of humanity has. What will Ham do, with his hopes and desires in opposition to the path laid out by his father?

The climax of the movie, after all, is not the flood itself, but Noah's decision about his family's fate aboard the Ark. This is where Noah's wife, called Naameh in the film, goes from "submissive" biblical spouse to modern woman. In her final plea to Noah, Naameh essentially outlines the situation in which they, and humanity, have found themselves: is it justice to punish the good in people in order to eradicate the evil? Her actions and words, like Ham's, appear to fight against fate, represented by Noah. She is not a blind follower. She stands up to Noah and leads me to my final conclusions about the film: Aronofsky's own brand of feminist revisionism.

Nameless in the Bible, Noah's wife and Shem's wife, Ila, already reclaim identities denied them in the written tradition. In their dialogue and behavior, they represent a counter to Noah's vision-driven sense of fate. Ultimately, Aronofsky rights the wrong of eliminating the wives of Ham and Japheth with Ila's twin daughters; we now have the "correct" number of women aboard the Ark, though there's a subtle hitch called incest.

How can these girls "be fruitful and multiply" if the men available are their uncles? If the rest of the film has not convinced you that it is not a Sunday School version, this open ending should finally get the point across. Fox News's Dana Bash laments the fairy tale aspect of her childhood, with the dove and the rainbow and everyone living happily ever after. Jon Stewart naturally replies in his bit, "Everyone dies!" However, as if just for Dana, there is a dove who brings Japheth an olive branch at the end. The Ark does land on a mountain, as in the story. And, in a final stroke, the screen dissolves into the spectrum of the rainbow.

After all the darkness, a rainbow at the end. Shouldn't that be enough to satisfy the Sunday School crowd? I smirked at this final frame, because what I felt was so wonderful about this film were the concept of humanity's incestuous origins and the struggle between fate and free will...in short, the messy, good stuff about the story, whichever version you read or watch or listen to.