Sound of Freedom is the newest faith-based film about sex slavery. Yes, “newest” is an appropriate adjective. Believe it or not, human trafficking has become something of a faith-based subgenre, with previous entries including She Has a Name and Priceless.
Inspired by the real-life exploits of Tim Ballard, the founder of Operation Underground Railroad, Sound of Freedom tells the story of a government agent turned activist who seeks to rescue children out of sex trafficking. In addressing such a sordid topic, the film’s tone fits well into what I’ve previously called “‘gritty godliness’—exploring human depravity without simplifying or sanitizing it.” It’s not an entertaining movie in the strictest sense of the word, but it is compelling—heartbreakingly so.
Released in early July, the film quickly gained popularity, becoming the highest-grossing film on July 4. This is significant, in part because it made back almost all its production cost in one day, in part because Independence Day is a prime release window for movie studios—and also because this movie was up against one of the summer’s most anticipated sequels: Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny.
Sound of Freedom represents a huge step forward for director Alejandro Monteverde, whose indie film directorial debut, Bella, had a lackluster script, with no clear story arc. In contrast, Sound of Freedom boasts a compelling narrative and strong production values, something even secular critics observe. Even Jezebel writer Rich Juzwiak, who considers the film a piece of shameless propaganda, nevertheless admits, “The movie itself is well-acted, it looks expensive, and it moves at a rapid clip.”
Actors Aren’t Commodities
There’s an inherent risk in addressing sexual exploitation through the visual medium of film. Too easily, one can switch from merely portraying it to perpetuating it. The line between the two can be crossed even without meaning to. In his review of Cuties, a controversial film that purported to be critiquing the sexual exploitation of minors, Brett McCracken wrote, “In order to present such material, real, embodied people are necessarily objectified and sexualized before cameras, directors, film crews, and ultimately audiences.”
Sound of Freedom isn’t an entertaining movie in the strictest sense of the word, but it is compelling— heartbreakingly so.
Far too often, the reality of actor violation in these cases is ignored, as the church has (rightfully) condemned sexually exploitative material in general, choosing to focus on its effects on audiences. But as McCracken notes, the actors themselves—“real, embodied people”—are also objectified in the process.
Examples abound in Hollywood of the toll these scenes take on actors. While playing a rape victim in The Accused (1988), Jodie Foster “cried so hard in the scenes that she popped blood vessels around her eyes.” More recently, after filming her rape scenes for The Last Duel (2021), Jodie Comer, who claimed she felt “very safe” during the process, nevertheless confessed, “I used to go swimming in the sea after. It was freezing, but that’s how I shook it off. I’d go in the sea then go and make myself some wholesome food.”
Exploitation Isn’t Unfilmable
As protagonist Tim Ballard (Jim Caviezel) says in Sound of Freedom, “Ordinary people don’t want to hear about [sex trafficking]. It’s too ugly for polite conversation.” Such ugliness is on gut-wrenching display in the movie. As such, it’s not for the faint of heart.
Does this mean the movie falls into the trap described and illustrated by the examples above? Does it present any gratuitous depictions of sex slavery?
“I demanded they didn’t,” says the real Tim Ballard, who insisted that such terrible crimes not be shown in the movie. The horror is instead conveyed in part through actor Jim Caviezel’s eyes and expressions as his character reacts to the exploitation.
Indeed, the film chooses to emphasize the effects of sexual sin rather than depicting all the sordid details of it. By using the power of suggestion, Freedom leaves audiences to fill in the blanks without resorting to the exploitation of its child actors:
We learn all we need to know by, say, seeing a perp walk into a bedroom, tilt a child’s head up to look at him, then close the curtains of the only window in the room. The evil to be committed against the child is unmistakable—hauntingly painted in the girl’s fearful eyes—and yet the innocence and dignity of the child actor remains intact.
Wisely and artfully, the film effectively condemns the obscene without portraying it onscreen. And it’s all the more powerful for its restraint.
Questionable Marketing Strategy
Historically, Protestants have had a tenuous relationship with art, not trusting the stories they tell to stand on their own. As a result, faith-based films have relied on heavy-handed dialogue to drive home the desired message, making them, in the words of Andrew Barber, “more akin to interventions than filmmaking.”
Wisely and artfully, the film effectively condemns the obscene without portraying it onscreen.
Sound of Freedom largely avoids this, letting the riveting narrative do the heavy lifting without the need for sermonizing. Where the filmmakers falter, actually, is after the movie—during the end credits. Jim Caviezel appears onscreen to deliver a message directly to the audience, expounding on the evils of sex trafficking. As well-intentioned as his speech is, it gives the appearance, if not the reality, of failing to let this story stand on its own two feet.
Caviezel encourages audiences to fight child sex trafficking by scanning a QR code that appears onscreen to “pay it forward” so others can watch the film. At one point, Caviezel says, “I think that we can make Sound of Freedom the Uncle Tom’s Cabin of 21st-century slavery.” The implication is the movie might play a key role in ending sex slavery.
If that statement proves true (we can hope it does!), it won’t ultimately be because of a midcredits call-to-action by Caviezel to boost ticket sales. Harriet Beecher Stowe’s novel didn’t require a national marketing campaign to convince others of its importance; her story’s efficacy became self-evident over time.
Children Aren’t Products
In an interview with National Catholic Register, Caviezel (who is Roman Catholic) said, “This is the best film I’ve done since The Passion of the Christ.” Some may quibble with that sentiment. A less controversial, and possibly more accurate, statement is that Freedom is the most important film Caviezel has participated in since Passion. Variety writer Owen Gleiberman hints at this when he says, “‘Sound of Freedom’ [is] a compelling movie that shines an authentic light on one of the crucial criminal horrors of our time, one that Hollywood has mostly shied away from.”
Sound of Freedom addresses this crucial criminal horror with a proper mix of frankness and restraint. It hints at a faith-based filmmaking community that’s making strides in the right direction, even if there are some faltering steps along the way.
The Gospel Coalition