The Order (2003) from Johnny Web (Uncle Scoopy; Greg Wroblewski)

Worst: House of the Dead. 5% positive reviews.

#2: Boat Trip. 6%.

#3 (tie): Gigli, My Boss's Daughter, Marci X. 7%

#6 (tie): The Order, Kangaroo Jack. 8%

#8 (tie): From Justin to Kelly, A Man Apart. 9%

This film was originally to be called The Sin Eater, which would have made a lot more sense in two ways:

a. the film is actually about a sin-eater.

b. about two years ago, there was a Jean-Claude Van Damme movie called The Order.

Unless you are thinking about Jean Claude Van Damme, in which case you are probably on the wrong web site, I'll bet you're now thinking, "what the hell is a sin-eater, anyway"? Fair question. It's another one of those far-fetched "ecclesiastical horror" concepts based upon some obscure element of dogma or myth. In this case, the sin-eater premise is about half dogmatic (or rather it's about misunderstood and misapplied dogma), and half mythical.

The Dogma:

Since the Catholic Church excommunicates people, and preaches (or has preached in the past) that eternal salvation is not possible outside the Church, some people assume that excommunication is equivalent to damnation. If Catholic teaching is applied correctly and compassionately, that is not true. While excommunicates are denied salvation and the sacraments (most importantly the purification rituals of last rites and confession), there is theoretically no such thing as a state or place beyond God's forgiveness. The Catholic Encyclopedia explains it as follows:

Excommunication is not equivalent to damnation. Excommunications vary in gravity, and in grave cases readmission may be possible only by action of the Holy See, but excommunicates are always free to return to the church on repentance. Excommunication, it must be remembered, is a medicinal penalty intended, above all, for the correction of the culprit; therefore his first duty is to solicit pardon by showing an inclination to obey the orders given him, just as it is the duty of ecclesiastical authority to receive back the sinner as soon as he repents and declares himself disposed to give the required satisfaction.

It is important to remember, however, that dogma is not always applied correctly. The Catholic Church is an institution run by men, and those human men make mistakes, sometimes even commit evil acts of their own. The propensity for abuse was far greater in the Middle Ages, when the Pope of one all-too-earthly family might excommunicate a member of a rival family, then staunchly deny readmission to the Church, no matter what. In such a case, excommunication would be equivalent to damnation. How, then, might the excommunicate find a way to heaven, if it could not be done through the Church, through the sacraments, or even through the holiest of lives?

Furthermore, the Church has never had an open policy toward suicide. It is a mortal sin, and since it is the final act of life, it occurs too late for forgiveness to be applicable. In theory, there doesn't seem to be a way, within the parameters of Catholic orthodoxy, for someone to commit suicide and avoid hell. This fact sometimes led to desperation in the grieving family of one who has committed suicide.

Given those ostensibly redoubtable barriers to salvation, it stands to reason that folk tales would spring up among grassroots Catholics about "back doors" to heaven outside the Church.

(Personally, I don't think it would be worth believing in a God who can be so easily tricked! For all his unrepentant philandering, Captain Kirk could sneak past such a God simply by using the Mudd's Robots trick.)

The Myth:

Among the Celtic peoples, there was a long-standing custom involving sin-eaters. Nobody knows exactly how it all started, but the gist of it is that the sin-eater would attend the final ceremony for the recently deceased, and eat food that had been touching the dead body. In such a way, the sin-eater would ceremonially cleanse the last sins from the departed, allowing his or her soul to proceed directly to heaven. I have read that the custom still persists among some of the descendants of Celtic peoples who settled in the Appalachian Mountains.

Skip through the set-up , and it all turns out to be a three-way power struggle among Heath, the immortal sin-eater, and Robocop. Robocop is now Robocardinal, an evil chain-smoking heretic who seems likely to become the next Pope - "the warrior pope" as he calls himself, or Robopope for short. After some evil minions of Robopope kill the Full Monty guy, Heath's only ally is a woman he once exorcised, who has only recently been released from a mental institution. Long gone are the days when people were released from institutions with a baggy suit and twenty bucks, because this woman has apparently been released with a designer wardrobe that would make Jackie Kennedy envious. In fact, she looks so good that Heath screws her socks off, and we begin to see why those Carolingians are considered to be heretics by the mainstream Catholics.

The final complication is that the sin-eater is actually not that bad a guy, is really pretty darned sick of sin-eating, and would like it very much if Heath would take over his responsibilities for a few centuries. He tells a few zany anecdotes about the good times with Caravaggio to illustrate how great immortality can be, but Heath is not easily persuaded, so all parties must proceed to their destinies through more circuitous routes.