Beyond Belief

PG • Theaters

I remember countless jam sessions with Petra … them on my boombox, me on my air guitar. Many of us Christian Gen Xers got our vocal training trying to emulate lead singer Greg X. Volz as he belted out “Praise ye the Lord forever!” We were bummed when Volz left Petra in 1985 but quickly warmed up to his raspy replacement, former Head East lead vocalist John Schlitt. Still, some of us probably wished we could have tried out for the job.

A teen band in the 1980s trying to make it big is the theme of the new faith film Beyond Belief. This premise will draw viewers, some because it depicts a dream they’ve chased, but also because good music always invigorates a story. Beyond Belief executes the musical part well—cuts from at least 10 Petra songs, by my count, plus other meaty riff-and-synth anthems authentic to the era. The problem is the story: Newcomers trying to gain a toehold in the music industry, against a backdrop of family challenges, should suffice as a plot, but the film’s superfluous intrigues diminish the drama rather than amplify it. Following the storyline feels like listening to multiple bands playing different songs at the same time. Andy Ellis (Carson Lueders) loses his father in a tragic accident but finds some consolation singing and playing guitar with his three bandmates. At a Petra concert, an upcoming battle of the bands is announced, with the winning band to get a record deal and go on tour with Petra. About this same time, Andy’s mom (Debby Gerber) contracts a mysterious illness, and the church she and her late husband founded faces foreclosure. Andy’s uncle rides in, not on a white horse but in his gravel-spitting 1970 Chevy Chevelle. Thuggish in his cowboy hat and dark sunglasses, he goes around town strong-arming folks into selling him their properties. The last holdout is the church.

That’s plenty of drama. But Andy begins to hear God telling him directly and through other means to “run,” which Andy takes for a supernatural nudge to run in a local marathon. Viewers may note an absence of scriptural precedents to substantiate Andy’s claims that God communicates through monosyllabic messages.

Anyway, as it turns out, the race is scheduled for the same day as the battle-of-the-bands competition. Andy calculates he must finish in seven hours to make it to the competition on time. And so, the film devotes significant screen time to Andy’s developing adequate long-distance speed so he’s not late to his band’s rock ’n’ roll audition. His farmer grandfather trains him Miyagi-style: Pick up and restack a pile of pallets, drag a chicken coop across a field, and so on.

While the Petrafied soundtrack revives many fond memories, some vocal dubbing errors undercut the appreciation. Also, the teen drummers’ strokes and guitarists’ fretboarding are often out of sync with the beats and notes. But the film is clean: no sensuality or violence, and objectionable language is limited to a band chanting, “Heaven yes, hell no!”

The film’s best moment comes in a cameo with Schlitt and Petra’s founding guitarist and primary songwriter Bob Hartman. They’re just two old dudes at a Petra concert, surrounded by young people rocking out to “He Came, He Saw, He Conquered.” Hartman’s ­character plugs his ears and complains, “It’s too loud.” Schlitt’s character scoffs, “This is Christian music?”

Yes, it’s great Christian music but not-so-great Christian cinema.