What's behind the scenes of surprising smash 'Sound of Freedom'

On its own terms, “Sound of Freedom” is a well-done exploitation film.

Like the “Taken” series, it’s about a white savior who travels into lurid foreign lands to rescue victims from human trafficking rings. There’s lots of shadowy danger, smoke-filled rooms, and brutal action. The film is well-shot and technically proficient. It even includes a legitimate performance from Bill Camp, an under-appreciated character actor who gets a juicy monologue.

Why am I talking about a low-budget “ripped from the headlines” piece of pulp six weeks into its run? Because “Sound of Freedom” is a legitimate phenomenon. As of this writing, it’s made $160 million domestically. That’s more money than the most recent “Mission: Impossible” and gaining on the fifth “Indiana Jones.”

Part of the film's success lies in directly connecting its concept to evangelical campaigns around human trafficking. But that connection gets sticky when players involved with the film have espoused QAnon theories. The moral motives of “Sound of Freedom” get called into question: Does the film seek to stoke the most dangerous fringe elements in our society?

The film tells the story of Tim Ballard (Jim Caviezel), a Homeland Security agent charged with busting pedophilia rings crisscrossing the U.S.-Mexican border. While boasting a successful track record, Ballard can’t shake the feeling he’s not doing enough to get children out of harm’s way.

He goes a bit rogue, heads to Colombia, and teams up with former narco “Vampiro” (Camp) to nab kidnapping victims away from well-funded circles. The pair finds help from local law enforcement as they face down cartels, mercenaries, and other unsavory forces to rescue children and reunite them with their families.

Pretty gripping stuff. If there’s any real problem with the film thematically, it’s with Caviezel, who plays the real-life Ballard with a Dudley Do-Right posture. Given that Ballard is a Mormon in law enforcement, maybe there’s not any darkness there. Though consider the fact he left the organization he founded — Operation Underground Railroad — just last month due to an internal investigation after complaints from employees and donors merged.

An actor like Liam Neeson or Gerard Butler, our kings of modern-day mainstream exploitation flicks, would have brought some depth and grit to the role. Even after working with directors like Terrence Malick and Mel Gibson, Caviezel is a bit of an empty vessel.

Yet things take a turn when “Sound of Freedom” cuts to credits and we see Caviezel out of character thanking the audience for seeing the film in a theater. Nothing unusual there — sort of nice, in fact.

Then he encourages anyone who wants to buy a ticket for someone who cannot afford it — “paying it forward” — to donate via QR code. Which, honestly, is such a genius move I cannot believe other indie films haven’t started doing it. This marketing hook is probably the biggest reason the film is killing it at the box office.

But then Caviezel talks about how “Sound of Freedom” didn’t have a distributor for five years. “They didn’t want you to see this movie,” he says.

This, too, has become part of the marketing for the film. “They are trying to keep you from seeing this film,” a conservative radio host proclaimed on Twitter a few weeks ago. A TikTok personality claimed “they” shut down the air conditioning in an auditorium to cancel a screening. (Welcome to the joys of modern multiplexes, I wanted to respond.)

Who are “they”? Not defining terms gives everyone plausible deniability, but Caviezel himself is on the record as a QAnon believer. For people not terminally online, QAnon encapsulates the belief that the world is run by a group of Satan-worshipping pedophiles, including politicians and celebrities, and that Donald Trump was recruited by top military personnel to run for president to break up this cabal.

Caviezel has stated in interviews he believes some kidnapped children are being harvested for adrenochrome, a chemical compound found in the blood; QAnon supporters say these “elites” use it as a life-extending drug. Ballard furthered a QAnon-endorsed conspiracy that the furniture seller Wayfair is trafficking children through mail order.

The “they” that doesn’t want you to see the film would seemingly be this blood-drinking band of globalists deeply rooted in the power structure of Hollywood. No doubt Caviezel feels his career was railroaded after he played Jesus in the controversial “The Passion of the Christ.”

Many claimed that film as anti-Semitic, and I am sure Caviezel believes “they” had something to do with his misfortune. Which perhaps nudged the actor’s radicalization. Although he is not alone. No doubt you know someone who believes in “Q” and this dangerous nonsense as well.

Context means a lot in understanding a film’s meaning. Human trafficking is a sincere concern and a heralded crusade by many evangelicals who believe much of online pornography is powered by the labor of kidnapped souls; I started hearing about it with intense frequency from megachurch-attending friends about 10 years ago.

No doubt as QAnon started to surge online and church attendance started to drop, people with convictions about the subject made connections using the details of this conspiracy theory. Such wild-eyed ideas are appealing to those lost and confused by a complicated world. If something doesn’t make sense, then perhaps there’s some secret group of people pulling the strings.

As Nate Silver once said, conspiracy theories are the laziest, but easiest, way to connect data points.

“Sound of Freedom” is not a bad film, but I fear its intentions. I fear it takes the audience’s well-meaning concern for children and places it in proximity of something equally sinister. These audience members might seek out Tim Ballard and hear him talk about how nicknames for Wayfair furniture must mean child trafficking is afoot. Or hear Caviezel’s rants on Steve Bannon’s podcast.

The last thing you want from an exploitation film is to become the thing it’s seeking to exploit.

James Owen is the Tribune’s film columnist. In real life, he is a lawyer and executive director of energy policy group Renew Missouri. A graduate of Drury University and the University of Kansas, he created Filmsnobs.com, where he co-hosts a podcast. He enjoyed an extended stint as an on-air film critic for KY3, the NBC affiliate in Springfield, and now regularly guests on Columbia radio station KFRU.

This article originally appeared on Columbia Daily Tribune: What's behind the scenes of surprising smash 'Sound of Freedom'