Next to Constantine, Mel Gibson’s The Passion is an episode of Spongebob Squarepants. In Constantine, Keanu Reeves as the titular, demon-slaying hero visits a bar frequented by the “fallen,” the decadence of whom we are to presume from their androgynous looks and queer interest in Keanu, once again playing a Christ-figure. (What, you didn’t get that he was supposed to be Jesus in My Own Private Idaho?) The devil suggests the depths of his wickedness by flicking his tongue across Keanu’s cheek and giggling over his anti-Christ son’s dalliance with the fallen angel Gabriel, played by Tilda Swinton in apparent anti-gay penance for her turn as Orlando. And the whole movie revolves around the reality of “spiritual war,” a basic premise of much of Christian conservatism. The evangelical Relevant gets it; Mere Comments isn’t satisfied with Constantine’s red meat; but as far as we’ve seen, nobody else is concerned with the most rigid piece of holy Ghost power filmmaking we’ve seen since Mel let his mighty hammer ring.