The notion of a priest that has lost his faith is almost a cinematic cliché.  Films often portray men of the  cloth as hard-drinking skeptics that no longer feel the spark that drove them to work for the big “G,” until something earth-shattering happens in the final reel that makes them believers once again.  On paper, The Third Miracle may sound like one of these films, but it goes out of its way to distance itself from these films by adding liberal doses of clichés from other genres.

Miracle opens in 1944 Slovakia, where the inhabitants of a war-torn town flee on foot as air raid sirens signal an impending wave of German bombers.  As throngs of people head for safety, one little girl runs in the opposite direction, toward a religious icon in the center of town.  An injured soldier watches as the girl prays for God to show mercy on her family, friends and neighbors.

Cut to the bad part of Chicago in the late 1970s, where Father Frank Shore (Ed Harris, The Truman Show) has successfully hidden for the past eight months when he walked out on both his job and his god.  Shore’s job is a unique one within the church – he investigates miracles, decides if they’re legitimate and, if convinced, petitions Rome for canonization.

Shore is tracked down by Father John Leone (Michael Rispoli, Summer of Sam), who drags him back to their boss, Bishop Cahill (Charles Haid, Renko from Hill Street Blues).  Cahill sends Shore on an assignment to St. Stanislaus, where a statue supposedly weeps the blood of a parishioner that died almost a decade earlier.  While the statue only oozes the red stuff during sweet November rain (insert Axl Rose joke here), the blood is said to have cured the lupus in a young girl.

Shore, the hard-drinking skeptic, becomes embroiled in the case – and also with the daughter of the possible saint (Anne Heche, Psycho) - and we slowly learn why he’s earned the nickname “The Miracle Killer.”  The film also incorporates elements of cop flicks and courtroom dramas into the mix, which distinctly separates Miracle from its predecessors without really being too original.  Shore emerges as a strange cop/priest hybrid that, at one point, tells a low-level pimp, “My name is Frank Shore; I’m from St. Stan’s.”  He delivers the line with a clenched jaw and a growl, and may as well be saying, “I’m Detective Corsetti from the 2-7.”  Miracle’s denouement is kind of like A Few Good Men except everyone is wearing robes and collars.

Miracle is based on Richard Vetere’s novel of the same name that he adapted with television producer John Romano (Third Watch, Party of Five).  Washington Square director Agnieszka Holland capably helms the film and is reunited with Square’s cinematographer (Jerzy Zielinski), editor (David J. Siegel) and composer (Jan A.P. Kaczmarek) for this production that was filmed in Hamilton and Toronto, Ontario.  While the film is a little predictable (I called it very early on), it certainly looks great and is one of those films that could actually make you question your religious beliefs.  And any movie that makes you think can’t be all that bad.

1:58 - for adult language, mild violence, minor sexual content and some drug use. And for priests that take the Lord’s name in vain in His own house