Salesman (1969) Provides a Conversation Starter Rather Than Easy Answers

Happy Good Friday, reader! I don’t normally talk religion in this newsletter about movies, but seeing as we are about to celebrate the fact that He is Risen and all, perhaps you’ll permit me to tie it back to cinema today.

As you’re certainly aware, there’s a whole cottage industry of “faith-based” films, and well, though I’m a Christian myself, they’re just not for me. Now, I won’t degrade anyone seeking out “inspirational” films like these, especially since we’re living in a particularly bleak time in American history. Many people go to the movies to turn their brains off rather than on, and I think that’s fine, especially if that’s not their only reason for going to the movies.*

But my issue with this brand of cinema is that, from what I’ve seen, they’re typically preaching to the choir. We all seek out content that comforts and affirms, of course, whether it be our religious beliefs or our political tenets or our cultural opinions. But I like my “Christian films” to have more bite—I want them to ask tough questions rather than provide easy answers.** (Isn’t that what good sermons do?)

One such film is Salesman, a groundbreaking 1969 documentary. What I love about Salesman is that it doesn’t reinforce Christian talking points, but it doesn’t reject them either—it simply presents them.

By the time they made Salesman, directors Albert and David Maysles were well established in the film industry, having made several documentaries already.*** They’d covered a wide spectrum of subjects, from Truman Capote to Orson Welles to Marlon Brando to The Beatles. But for this project, they wanted to reconnect with their roots. Albert and David were Jewish, but they grew up in a predominantly lower-middle-class Irish Catholic neighborhood in Boston. 

So they approached a slew of Bible publishers with a humble request: “We are looking for a dedicated, top-notch, full-time Bible salesman who stays on the road for at least a few days at a time.” But given the audience, it’s the sort of request that was likely to raise an eyebrow. So they made sure to clarify their intent: “[We] want to assure you that our purpose is only to make a good film about what we feel is a subject with a great deal of human interest.”

Thankfully, they found a willing and trusting partner in the Mid-American Bible Company. And they did what they said they’d do, making one of the very first vérité documentaries that truly sought to present an unbiased glimpse at potentially polarizing figures.**** There are few 20th century archetypes as symbolically charged as the Bible salesman, and yet the Maysles Brothers truly leave it up to the viewer to draw their own conclusions about Paul Brennan (the film’s main protagonist) and the other three featured subjects.

For Christian viewers, it’s an excellent conversation starter. Sure, there’s a bit of irony to selling an expensive, deluxe version of a book that tells us the gift of eternal life is free to those who ask. At the same time, though, if it’s used properly, is there a more useful tool for Christian families when it comes to their spiritual well-being? There’s the possibility that Paul and his cohorts changed lives and saved souls by putting these Bibles in hundreds of homes. There’s also the possibility that, by locking them into a financial commitment to pay for a very expensive deluxe edition of the Good Book, they caused significant financial hardship for some of these families.

Then again, these men only pay visits to families that told their local church they’d be interested in a sales call; to what extent are they culpable for what transpires? And would these salesmen be deemed more honorable or less if they sold vacuum cleaners door to door instead (as one minor character in the film does for a living)? It’s a tricky thing to navigate. (Here’s where I could say something clever about “prophets” and “profits,” but I know y’all have heard that one before.)

I can understand why Christians wouldn’t be lining up around the block to see a film like this.***** Though I find it poetic and profound, it’s pretty bleak at times, even after you remind yourself that these events all took place nearly 60 years ago and that times have changed in many ways. But I’ll always appreciate films like this that ask believers to think about the tough subjects. Aren’t those the ones we should be thinking about the most?

*I should add that, while I don’t tend to watch these films, I do appreciate them a good bit. Many of them are made in and around Alabama, and some of them have given friends of mine steady paychecks, and for that I am grateful.

**Some recent examples that are too new to fit the parameters of this newsletter, should you wish to seek them out: Calvary (2014), Free In Deed (2015), Corpus Christi (2019), Little Sister (2016), and of course, First Reformed (2017). Perhaps I’ll write about The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys (2002) one day too.

***It must be noted that the Maysles Brothers made this film with Charlotte Zwerin, their go-to editor who had such a strong influence on the film that she earned a directing credit as well.

****This film was recommended to me by my friend Bradford Thomason, half of the directing duo who made two really terrific documentaries with a similar vérité approach in County Fair, Texas (2015) and Jasper Mall (2020), the latter of which I had the privilege of assisting them with. In fact, they’ve made a lot of great docs, and you should watch them.

*****According to Wikipedia, the Maysles Brothers had trouble finding distribution for the film because it was deemed to be “too depressing and realistic for the public.” That’s a hell of a combination of adjectives.

Salesman is now streaming on HBO Max and the Criterion Channel, and it is available to rent elsewhere.