The story is that of a woman who, together with her husband and against the machismo of her environment, built an empire. Actually an empire of televised religion, of theme parks and temples all over the United States. And obviously the villain is another pastor. The story is real, by the way: Tammy Faye, who also had to survive cancer and embezzlement and the adventures of her husband, existed. She was even a gay icon, since she was the first televangelist who did not discriminate against them and even she had a philanthropic attitude in the early days of AIDS. Yes, it’s a great story for the movies, if you will. Or it would be if, in addition to having an overacted Jessica Chastain and, with Garfield, overdone with fake cheeks, this story told something else (say, why is religion important to people, for example?). But no, it is actually a rinse that seems to tell us “evangelist pastors are also rights and human” while narrating, lazily and by regulation, another biopic where what seems to matter most is that the actors “look a lot like” their models in real life. Chastain, who should have won a lot of awards for her intriguing, flawless performance in Blackest Night, will most likely win the Oscar for this religious movie that, paradoxically or not, lacks soul.
