"God or the Girl."
Sounds like a game show spoof, doesn't it? You can almost envision the scenario — blinking stage lights, a cheesy set, Doors No. 1, 2 and 3. Perhaps there's a nun waiting to whisk the boy away to the seminary behind the first, a Bettie Page impersonator wriggling her hips beyond the second, and behind Door No. 3, a lovely set of cookware.
A scene like that is only slightly beyond the taste level of today's A&E purveyor of Cheez Whiz reality masquerading as pseudo-serious views of the tacky underbelly of American culture. Fortunately "God or the Girl" is more intriguing than its sensational title suggests, albeit with its share of flaws.
The five-part series runs Sunday night from 7-9 p.m. on the cable channel, Monday at the same time, and the finale airs April 23 at 8 p.m.
But soon into the first night, you'll realize that title is fairly misleading. Of the four young men wrestling with whether to take the path toward priesthood and celibacy or to pursue married life as a faithful Catholic, only one, 24-year-old Mike Lechniak, has a serious girlfriend.
Another, an extremely zealous 21-year-old named Dan DeMatte, put his faith before his relationship to the point that she's described as an ex-girlfriend in the rare times she appears. To help him contemplate whether to enter the seminary, his priest challenges him to walk 20 miles while carrying a cross. (DeMatte not only accepts, but constructs one that weighs 80 pounds.)
The other two, 28-year-old Joe Adair and 25-year-old Steve Horvath, are unattached. But Adair is desperate to find direction in his life — beyond figuring out whether to become a priest — and heads to Cologne, Germany, for World Youth Day. His mission is to catch a glimpse of the pope — and, oh yeah, look up a German girl he was friends with in school.
It's closer to the truth to say the woman holding the most sway over all these guys is the Virgin Mary.
"God or the Girl's" creators Darryl Silver, Stephen David and David Eilenberg, have somewhat bucked the A&E image here by delivering four non-judgmental portraits of young men exploring the depths of their faith. And it's not always easy to watch. Adair's inability to make up his mind can be frustrating to witness, and DeMatte's displays of religious fire — which includes praying outside of abortion clinics and strip clubs — are going to polarize audiences.
He presented the producers with plenty of ammunition to paint him as a devout nut. That they restrained themselves, treating his story as carefully as the other three, is to their credit.
Even so, "God or the Girl" could have been more effective by focusing on each man in his own free-standing hour instead of veering from one to the next. That's a minor annoyance compared with the hokey stock footage separating each scene, complete with holy statues, a nameless priest folding his hands and casting his eyes heavenward. Throw in an anxiety-laced rock score reminiscent of "A Current Affair," punctuated by a church bell's bong! and the homage to MTV's cornball approach to documentary editing is complete.
You'll either get used to the heavy, odd score or by about the fifth bong! you'll have to squelch the desire to commit a mortal sin upon your television set.
Beyond this, "God or the Girl" is propelled by that "Door No. 1 or Door No. 2" question, presenting interesting ideas of how and why one comes to his decision.
The priests they look up to come off as a bit manipulative. Lechniak, in particular, would be joined at the hip to Father Pauselli if not for his girlfriend Aly, whom his mentor sees as a threat to Lechniak's decision. (As an aside, there's an interesting moment in which Lechniak admits to the camera that he knows he must fight his urge to hug and kiss Aly. That's lust, he innocently explains, and "it's sick and disgusting.")
What the series leaves you wishing for is more of a portrayal of the power and mystery that binds a person to the Catholic faith. Or, in the spirit of full disclosure, it doesn't commit as sufficiently as I, a lapsed Catholic, would have liked it to.