Lost Preacher

When a scruffy guy with a criminal past buttons on a clerical collar not out of holy calling but guilt, you know his ministry is doomed from the start. In the case of AMC’s television show Preacher, a popular supernatural drama based on a late-1990s DC Vertigo comic book series, this preacher’s ministry isn’t just doomed—it’s literally demonic. That’s the synopsis of Preacher, which has hooked enough fans—many of them millennials—to garner a second season and a review on these pages.

Preacher Jesse Custer (Dominic Cooper) is very, very good at being bad, as his former girlfriend/partner-in-crime Tulip (Ruth Negga) loves to remind him. The son of a preacher at a rural town in western Texas, Custer returns to his decaying hometown and a sparse congregation of churchgoers who love their sin more than they love God. Every Sunday, Custer drones on about morals at the lectern, his voice deflating as he looks into the glazed eyes of his audience. Between sermons, he listens halfheartedly to people who confess their sins for relief so they can sin again. With barely any gospel in his sermons, it’s no wonder the church body doesn’t show signs of growth or transformation.

But among this hardhearted congregation exist a few folks who genuinely hunger for God—and these are the characters that make Preacher so raw, tragic, and engrossing. One is Eugene Root (Ian Colletti), a teenager whose face is grotesquely disfigured from a botched suicide attempt. Broken under guilt and shame, Eugene desperately seeks reassurance of salvation from Custer: “I used to pray to [God], and I would hear Him talk back. But now it’s just real quiet. Do you ever think that there are some things so bad, even God won’t forgive?” Custer, also struggling for redemption, attempts to convince both himself and Eugene: “No matter what you’ve done, if you need Him, He has to be there for you. That’s the whole point. God doesn’t hold grudges.”

That night, Custer kneels before the church pew and pleads with God to speak to him. Silence. “Thought so,” the preacher mutters, and just as he’s about to walk away from his ministry for good, a mysterious force knocks him off his feet and enters into him. We learn that it’s a half-angel, half-demon creature called “Genesis”—a celestial abomination that’s apparently as powerful as God and had made numerous failed attempts to possess other religious leaders who instead publicly exploded into bloody bits. Somehow, Custer escapes that gruesome end and wakes up with the ability to force people to do his will. Recharged by the belief that God has a plan for him, he uses his newfound powers to essentially compel his congregation to serve God.

This review isn’t a recommendation for Preacher—particularly for kids under age 18, chick flick lovers, or really, anyone who’s sensitive to gore (two words: chainsaw massacre), profanity, and blasphemy (in this dualistic world, God flees His throne and abandons His creation).

Still, the show treats themes of sin, righteousness, free will, and eternal judgment with gravity. It may appeal to millennials because of how astutely it pokes holes in that form of organized “Christianity” that consists of little more than cultural habits, moral guidelines, and cheap tickets to heaven. It also offers a hard look at the many burdens of a preacher tending to a town of unrepentant sinners, tiresome complainers, grieving mothers, contemptuous atheists, seductive jezebels, and a 119-year-old Irish vampire (Joseph Gilgun) who loves Chinese food and booze.

Despite its sometimes inappropriate content, Preacher does aim to get a few things right: Custer may be better at breaking bones than shepherding broken people, but he’s sincere in his duty of delivering his flock to righteousness. The drama is also tender in dealing with characters such as Eugene who are genuinely seeking God’s mercy and grace. Too bad genuine mercy and grace are exactly what’s missing in this show.