For years I've had only vague notions of Martin Luther, picturing him as a righteous priest that defied the Catholic Church by nailing his 95 Theses to the church door and initiating the Protestant movement. After watching Eric Till's Luther, I can now visualize the rebel priest as frenzied Joseph Fiennes, going through some of the most confused acting exercises recorded in recent history. It's a miracle any Protestants survived the 16th century, given the leadership offered by Fiennes' personification. History is full of reluctant saints and heroes, but Fiennes' Luther wafts between self-loathing and isolated indifference before being sent out into the world for righteousness sake. To its credit the film will inspire a few souls to read up on Martin Luther and the Reformatio—it certainly doesn't inspire in its own right. I'm still not sure what Luther tries to accomplish since it muddies the historical facts, flatly constructs its major characters as stereotypes, and fails to entertain.

The fact that the film received very little promotional help before its theatrical release is a danger sign, considering that this is anything but a low budget venture. Due to its relatively wide initial release, clearly the studio hopes to recoup as many receipts as possible before word of mouth nails the lid on its coffin. Another bad sign for the film's prospects is the fact that Alfred Molina's cameo role is hyped to share star billing to capitalize on Frida's popularity. When a film simply doesn't come together, studios jump on whatever tidbits they can.

Foreshadowing the tenor of the project, the opening David Lean (Oliver Twist) inspired thunderstorm obscures Luther's face as he flings himself into the mud, promising to devote himself to God if the lightning bolts miss his sniveling ass. Next Luther's father comes to witness his son's first Mass, only to see the new Augustinian monk nervously spill the wine and then privately rant about his ineptness. Without subtlety or conviction, Fiennes plays bipolar Luther like a failed student from the Charlton Heston school of iconic acting. But his verbal self-flagellation apparently touches his priestly mentor, Johann von Staupitz (Bruno Ganz), who sends him to Rome to expose him to a grimmer example of religious hypocrisy.

Luther sees Rome as a cesspool—full of harlots that specialize in servicing priests, money grubbing religious trinket sellers, church officials hawking indulgences not worth the paper they're printed on, and the uninspiring Pope Leo XII (Uwe Ochsenknecht). Luther returns a changed soul, ready for theological study at Wittenburg, where he soon becomes its prized student for questioning the status quo and validity of the church councils that strayed from the scripture. Winning the admiration of his professor by asking about the Greek Christians in response to his blanket statement that there is "no salvation outside the Church," Luther soon has theology students rolling in the aisles with his stand-up comic routines. Referencing his Rome observations where religious relics are sold on every corner, he wisecracks "Eighteen out of twelve disciples are buried in Spain." These moments exemplify Luther at his most enjoyable.

Given that the historical Martin Luther was a very down to Earth monk, who loved music and advocated drinking and sex, it's natural that the lighthearted moments work best. Fiennes has far too few of these scenes, however, and the filmmaker could have exploited the talents of Sir Peter Ustinov (as Frederick the Wise) much more. Ustinov lights up every scene he's in, recalling his fabulous role of Nero (Quo Vadis) when he humorously discards his religious relics after hearing Luther point out their silliness. With more screen time, Frederick the Wise could have clarified the socio-political climate of 16th century Germany. As it stands the film leaves the relationship between the Church, the German Emperor, and the German province princes all a nebulous mystery. Only broad hints are dropped, like the scene where Cardinal Cajetan (Mathieu Carriére) laments that the Church needed a "Luther" when it got a wimpish "Leo" instead, or when papal advisor Cirolamo Aleandro (Jonathan Firth) demands Luther's punishment because he recognizes his threat.

How the Reformation ever took place remains a total mystery from the information shown here. Luther's intellectual brilliance comes forth, and the film sincerely establishes how Luther was a seeker of Truth who sought to get the Church to return to pure scripture instead of relying on erroneous dogma. He refuses to recant his Church criticisms and cloisters himself to furiously translate the Bible into German. But we are to believe that this act of making the scriptures available to the masses is enough to turn the world upside down and cause complete chaos and mayhem. Indeed, Luther's supporters destroy German churches and leave more dead bodies behind than the Plague, giving validity to the Catholic Church's fears that the people are too limited to be trusted. Luther appears bewildered and confused by what his work has wrought, and the final scenes fast forward themselves at dizzying speed as if the script feels compelled to cover the full story without enough budget.

Bits and pieces of a compelling film are present, and Fiennes has demonstrated in Shakespeare in Love what he can do with a tight script that allows his passions to flow. These occur rarely here, and he is forced to play tortured saint most of the time and remain as part of the scenery in others. Paying homage to historical fact, Luther's wife indeed is a runaway nun who escapes via a fish barrel, but the film only begrudgedly depicts the incident and dispassionately couples the two. Since the post script tells us that they had six children, there must have been some honest passion between the two that escapes the filmmakers, who seem to think that swelling music can substitute for emotional substance.

But that's just one of the elements that is sadly lacking in this convoluted hodgepodge of a biopic that can't even figure out whether its audience consists of mainstream churchgoers or PBS elitists. Whether you're looking for religious inspiration or historical content, you are guaranteed to depart the theater greatly disappointed.