In addition to its considerable literary merits, Beowulf is significant as the first Christian epic poem. Composed some time in the eight to tenth centuries A.D. in what is now England, and set in Scandinavia in the fifth and sixth centurues, the poem, whose author is now lost to history (and which is probably taken from oral sources), tells of events in pagan times but explicitly places them in a Christian context and explains their meaning in thoroughly Christian terms.

Thus in addition to being a rousing adventure story and epic tale of civilizational struggle, the poem is a fascinating document of Europe’s transition from paganism to Christianity.

The current film adaptation, directed in a stylized, full-CGI presentation by Robert Zemeckis from a screenplay by Neil Gaiman and Roger Avary, brings this element to the fore. The very first dialogue scene consists of Danish Prince Unferth (John Malkovich) giving a friend a rather garbled but basically accurate capsule description of the Christian doctrines of salvation and the afterlife—while the two urinate beside each other.

The scene is clearly not meant to mock Christianity, however—quite the contrary. References to Christian doctrines are sprinkled throughout the rest of the film, and Unferth ultimately becomes some kind of priest or holy man, though he doesn’t lose his habit of beating his servants.

In addition, the screenwriters have altered the story line considerably in order to bring out the Christian implications even further. Grendel’s mother, for example, is not a ghastly monster, as she is in the poem, but instead presents herself to Beowulf as a beautiful naked woman (played by Angelina Jolie) with shimmering skin, a very fetching tail, and spike-heeled feet. The film establishes that she seduced the previous king, Hrothgar, and will do the same again after Beowulf.

She is presented as something more than just a dragon; she’s a being that cannot be killed but can turn good things to evil and draw much wickedness from human beings by preying on their vanity and foolishness. In short, she stands for Satan or some other very powerful devil.

This is made quite clear in the pivotal scene when Beowulf (Ray Winstone) first confronts the monster. She beguiles him and tells him that she can make him king, with all the power and the glory in the world, if he will only give himself fully to her. The scene ends abruptly, before we can see the warrior’s reply, but moments later he is indeed king, as Hrothgar is dead by suicide after naming Beowulf his heir.

A Christian would recognize the beautiful monster’s bargain as an analogy to Satan’s offer to Christ, but Beowulf is a pagan and is thus taken in, eventually bringing on disastrous consequences.

Ultimately, however, Beowulf does realize the enormity of his error, and he finally emulates Christ by offering himself as a sacrifice to save his people. Although the changes in the narrative must be occasionally disorienting to those who are very familiar with the poem and admire it—as I am and do—I think they work well to bring out the truths of the original poem and make the change from paganism to Christianity quite vivid to any reasonably alert observer. (On the other hand, John J. Miller of National Review Online despised the changes.)

Another fascinating set of changes the film makes is in the characterizations. In addition to the radical alterations of Unferth and Grendel’s mother, the film changes several other characters to bring out certain modern parallels. King Hrothgar (Anthony Hopkins) is turned into a drunken, lecherous, manipulative old sinner whose wife, Queen Wealthow (Robin Wright Penn), despises him for his infidelities and refuses to sleep with him.

Hrothgar rules over a society of lazy, self-indulgent, drunken fornicators and adulterers, and he is quick to make any deal that will ensure that evil will stay away so that the party can keep going. That, of course, leads only to increasingly horrible killings and destruction.

These changes clearly characterize Hrothgar’s court as analogous to the Clinton administration and point out that a people who indulge themselves and fall asleep to the perils around them are asking for trouble. Several dialogue lines make the point explicit. Just as President Clinton emboldened Muslim haters of America by ignoring or, worse, responding feebly to attacks on Americans and American property, so Hrothgar’s choices bring on disaster.

It is very revealing, for example, that what draws Grendel from his lair and incites his attacks is the sounds of revelry from the mead hall, the Danes’ Party Central.

Beowulf, his successor, declares victory over Grendel’s mother far too soon, and his false claim of "mission accomplished" wins the loyalty of his people but dooms them to future catastrophes. Here, too, the relation to current events is quite evident.

These are not just parlor games of too-clever filmmakers. On the contrary, these story elements help viewers identify with the fantasy situations at the center of the narrative and, perhaps even more importantly, bring out the important issues that confront every society as it attempts to defend itself from a frequently hostile world.

Hence, on both the earthy and spritual levels this film version of Beowulf gets things very right indeed.

In addition, the dramatic transition from paganism to Christianity portrayed in the film (as in the poem) has a powerful, redemptive message for Americans and Europeans who believe themselves to be living in a post-Christian world: perhaps such a civilizational transformation and reformation can happen again.

All of this plays out in a highy dramatic series of events, with quetly tense scenes puncuating the grand, heroic action sequences. The filmmakers surely called on an immense amount of skill and ingenuity in putting it all together. The strange, unreal visual style takes a good deal of getting used to, to be sure, and some of the scenes are rather silly and overly arch. This film Beowulf is certainly not to be preferred over the original poem.

Yet if it is something of a bastardization, its thematic fealty to its source and its powerful presentation of those themes make it a very successful bastard indeed.