Keeping the Faith (2000)

There is a moment, somewhere in the second act of Keeping the Faith, when a rabbi and a priest sit across from each other and discuss the woman they both love. This is the film's entire thesis, and it arrives without apology. Edward Norton's directorial debut concerns itself with the collision of two faith traditions across one shared romantic interest, a premise that in 2000 read as gently transgressive and today reads as a well-tailored comedy of manners. The Upper West Side has rarely looked so comfortable, so beige, so entirely populated by people who have never once worried about a rent increase.

The film's cultural footprint is faint. Anna, played by Jenna Elfman, holds a corporate title and pursues what she wants, which grants the proceedings a light dusting of modern sensibility without ever assembling an argument. Brian George appears briefly as a supporting presence, and the surrounding cast remains otherwise uniform in complexion and background. Race is not a subject here, nor is class, nor the environment, nor any question of bodily self-regard. The central friction is theological: a Catholic priest wrestling with his vows, a Jewish rabbi wrestling with his mother, and a woman taking conversion classes so that the romance may conclude properly. The film treats religious commitment as plot machinery, oiled and functional, never as a pulpit from which to instruct the audience. It wants us charmed, not corrected.

What remains is a competent, soft-spoken love triangle that has aged into something like a period piece. The interfaith karaoke center is a nice touch. The dedication to Norton's late mother is a nicer one. But the whole enterprise sits comfortably in its era, offering warmth where other films of the moment offered sermons, and asking nothing of its viewers beyond a willingness to watch two decent men be sad in nice apartments.