Dictator General Barriaux (imposing Maximilian Schell) thinks he has the solution to his Andean country's problems: End rebellion through raising fear by crucifying an imprisoned man the peasants think is the son of God who's come to save them, and most surely, get the money to spur the economy and improve their lot. For $75,000,00, he's selling the rights to film the crucifixion to account executive Skip (chameleon Matthew Modine). Being politically correct, he won't question the customs of a different culture than his. Besides, he's opposed to capital punishment and is sure that showing how horrendous it can be will turn viewers against it.
Afraid CNN or some entrepreneur will show up and ruin his exclusive, Skip as long as possible keeps the purpose of filming secret even from his crew. "What's the product?" film director Emily Shapiro (sharp Jane Adams), who usually does commercials for Skip, keeps asking. It's certainly a jolt when she finds out! More importantly, she finds she can also do something about it when the general is struck by her and feels she's the only woman who can restore his sexual powers.
Barriaux has other problems as well. He doesn't want it broadcast that he has helped his cousin Henri's daughter, Jeanine (played with fervor by Neve Campbell), to escape punishment for favoring the rebels. Although she was crippled, at least she's had wheelchair and hospital care. Nor is Henri (reserved James Fox) any help. He's given up action of any kind just to read and philosophize. He's no more sure about the divinity of the imprisoned man than about the authenticity of biblical stories or modern political assertions. About the continuing lack of rain, of course, Barriaux can do nothing. But film money will buy a lot of tequilla until drops fall from the sky.
How things can change! Emily persuades Barriaux how he can get out of the crucifixion. Henri finds Jeanine out of the wheelchair, dancing. His light shining over all, the never-seen imprisoned man has walked out through the walls. Stanley, one of his disciples, gets caught. (Blinking, slow-of-speech Peter McDonald is a howl showing Stanley under interrogation.) Admitting he's ruined his life "believing things," he yet has faith he followed "the son of God...kind of." He tells of the relationship between him and Jeanine. But answers leave more questions, leading to final changes, most of which are happy. Yet not all.
One feels Arthur Miller would have made further revisions -- perhaps one should say completion -- had he lived. Although Resurrection Blues is not on a par with his more realistic work, it compares favorably to his other biblically referenced play, The Creation of the World and Other Business. One can feel him stretching with his unusual extended use of humor, effectively for the most part. Surprisingly, the weakest link in the script is Jeanine and her politics.
The generic quality of the great stone structures in the design of the production does not impress. Too obviously gloomy, as well. Costumes are fittingly cliches. More light in some scenes would reflect the lack of water in the atmosphere. Of course, it would be a problem then to make big splashes of light represent the imprisoned man. Positively speaking, director Altman's major achievement seems to be drawing out each actor's distinctive contribution. From Matthew Modine and Peter McDonald, one could not ask for better delivery of satire.