What sort of future do the Wachowski brothers believe is waiting for us? Look no further than V for Vendetta. The team that devoted ten years to the production of that other futuristic vision, The Matrix Trilogy have returned with a not-so-far-off vision of a society trapped in a struggle for ideas.

V for Vendetta is an adaptation of the graphic novel by David Lloyd that presents a world shuddering under the weight of deadly pandemics, failed nation states and terrorist threats. In 2020 the citizens of Great Britain have fled the ravages of a biological attack and a faltering economy, and run into the arms of a dictatorial government. John Hurt creates a perfect fascist leader in the character of Adam Sutler, a minister who offers dubious salvation to a shell-shocked people. Hurt’s performance borrows more than a little from his title role in the Nazi-inspired take on Shakespeare’s Richard III.

But the centre-piece of this tragic drama is the enigmatic ‘V’, played by Hugo Weaving. I think Weaving will deserve a Golden Globe just for managing to carry off this anti-hero’s eccentric dialogue. He is a cultured, classically educated intellectual with a penchant for words beginning with his one-letter identity. He’s also more than a little conflicted – at one moment championing the poor oppressed citizen, at another carrying out some insanely violent assassinations. Think of Batman on a bad day, but wearing an eerily smiling pantomime mask. Tremendously athletic fight scenes are par for the course for troubled super heroes these days, but V incorporates a theatrical, almost balletic manner of moving that builds on his character and brings something new to the screen.

It’s during one of his rescue / riotous violence moments that V meets Evey, played by Natalie Portman of Star Wars fame. It’s nice to see her out from behind some of George Lucas’ eye-straining costumes. Evey’s life is a bit of a cliché for this sort of story – her baby brother a victim of a biological attack; her parents protestors who are arrested by the secret police, then killed in prison; her own career ruined by unauthorised behaviour – she’s afraid and trying her best to remain invisible. And she does a pretty good job till V rescues her from being raped by a squad of religious police called Fingermen.

Yes, the rapists are the religious police – Christian police.

Now, I warn you, Christians are going to cringe at the background for this quest for personal and national freedom. The dictatorship that rules Britain with an iron fist is backed to the hilt by a fundamentalist Christian church and some nasty faith-focussed demagogues who are always raving being “A God-damn Englishman and God-damn proud of it!”. The state and the church have formed an unholy alliance and co-operate to create the sort of oppression that curtails not only civic freedoms, but the freedom of the soul. To paraphrase George Orwell’s 1984, freedom in V for Vendetta is a religious boot stamping on an upturned face.

The longer the film goes on, the worse it gets. Gangs of religious zealots roam the streets enforcing and abusing theocratic restrictions; church officials oversee the morality of media outlets and civil departments; and at the top, a bishop who is knee deep in the conspiracy at the heart of the film turns out to be a violent paedophile. All of the morally redeeming qualities are reserved for those characters that reject ‘official’ teaching for the dictates of their personal consciences. Those who talk in absolutes are obviously the bad guys; those who fight for an individual’s right to choose – their sexuality, their religions, their belief systems – are obviously on the side of the angels, if there are any angels, that is.

V for Vendetta presents us with a world that includes a mish-mash of the worst charges that have been levelled against the church. The overriding accusation is hypocrisy. Every figure who belligerently champions the government mantra of ‘Strength through unity, unity through faith’ ultimately reveals that they are more interested in their lusts than they are in Jesus. He is clearly an excuse for their appetites, and they are just like those villains the Apostle Paul describes as men “… who suppose that Godliness is a means of gain.” (1 Timothy 6:5)

But Christians have little to fear from what the producers of V for Vendetta might have to say about these sorts of characters, because clearly there are no real Christians in the film. Even the most ardent opponent of the church would have to admit that the bad guys are simply using their supposed faith as a cloak. The Wachowski brothers may have thought they were making some profound statement on the detrimental effects of religious extremism, but the society they created to contain their message looks more like 1930’s Germany during the rise of the National Socialist Party. And any student of history can tell you that Hitler and the Nazis were happy to use Christianity to serve their purposes, and just as happy to persecute those believers who actually took their faith seriously.

V for Vendetta is a multi-level movie that can be enjoyed as a futuristic shoot ‘em up, or dissected as an examination of religious fundamentalism and the state. V is just as complex a character, combining a commitment to personal liberty with a destabilising desire for revenge. At the level of the individual is very much a new take on The Count of Monte Cristo. V’s crusade for retribution ends up costing him just as much as it does Edmond Dantes. But he ultimately stands for an idea, that liberty is an absolute right, and as the characters are fond of pointing out, “You can’t kill an idea.”

It’s a brilliant ride while it lasts, but the bad guys are just a bit too two-dimensional and so consequently the victory for grass roots democracy ends up being a bit too easy. But V for Vendetta is still worth seeing, if only to ask friends whether they think the religious characters really resemble Jesus in any way. Once that’s out of the way, you can start talking about the sort of things that actually matter to Him.