Pastafarianism And The Real People Who Worship A Flying Spaghetti Monster
A short, punchy documentary from Journeyman Pictures and director Michael Arthur detailing the origin, growth, and surprisingly profound philosophy of Pastafarianism - a church founded in jest but rooted in real opposition to the power and influence of religious institutions in civic society.
I, Pastafari produces a serious and disarmingly thoughtful exploration of this, the ‘silliest’ of religions, through use of interviews with its members and knowledgeable academic scholars. Arthur cuts in retro news clips alongside imagery of scripture and campy organ music to hammer home the bizarre identity of this religion, which, yes, worships a Flying Spaghetti Monster with a ’Noodly Appendage’.
I, Pastafari does well to not undersell the impact that the niche belief has had in the mainstream, especially in regards to popularising opposition to teaching the theory of Intelligent Design in science lessons in American schools. This battle really started the movement in 2005, which ballooned through the internet. It is notable however, that what underpins each adherent’s belief in Pastafarianism is not a dedicated reverence for the Flying Spaghetti Monster but instead a casual but firm worldview that seeks to have all religions treated equally. It becomes clear early on in the documentary that the actual material substance of Pastafarianism does not matter as much as the way it asserts itself in challenging conservative subversions of religion. It achieves this through showcasing the obvious absurdity of Pastafarianism, and a number of legal challenges which expose the exemptions provided to religious institutions.
The reason the film works is because it takes a silly subject seriously whilst acknowledging that our reality is bizarre enough already. Creationism, fundamentalism and supernatural justification for violence and hate serve as the main target; critique of such problematic areas could have even been further elaborated. What is perhaps ironic however is the manner in which Pastafarianism started off as an obvious parody of religious fundamentalism but spiralled into an actual religion, right down to splits in dogma, such as the internal debate about whether it is correct to wear pirate garments, as originally mandated, or pasta strainers on one’s head. Though since everything is done tongue-in-cheek, it is not clear how important, if at all, this clash is.
The Flying Spaghetti Monster
Make what you will of a belief in a spaghetti deity, the adherents of Pastafarianism in this documentary genuinely come across as open-minded and non-dogmatic. Their portrayal, possibly down to the direction the film takes or to the particular ethos that Pastafarians follow, does not mirror some of the harsher elements of the ‘New Atheist’ movement - which has been criticised for some of its more militant, ironically intolerable, attitudes toward religion. Pastafarianism operates more as a performative religion, where everybody is in on the joke but refuse to show their hand, a parody turned into both a breathing satire of religion and an actual religion itself, as it forces itself to be taken seriously by accumulating popularity through legal challenges and populist messaging.
Ultimately, I, Pastafari touches on what a religion actually is, but much like the philosophy of Pastafarianism itself, the subject is treated fairly breezily and with humour rather than deep analysis. The staleness of court rooms and various bureaucratic tie-ups contrast to the material beliefs of Pastafarianism and expose the pitfalls of legal systems which elevate personal faith into public spaces. The funniest parts of this documentary come when we see gasps in newsrooms, bewildered hosts, smirks in courtrooms and very serious people reading extracts from the Pastafarian Bible.
Go into the film with an open mind, you will leave with one too and perhaps a soft spot for this plucky little pseudo-faith. As they sign off in Pastafarianism: ‘R’amen’.
