The film was in color, and the picture was of a young man bathing in a river or lake or sea, there was a lot of sky in the background and the area seemed dry. He was dressed more like John the Baptist than a young Jesus with a rather dark brown tunic and a wide belt. The film talked about him casually, how people had known him in what is now called the Holy Land.
He was engaging with a sense of humor. His only activity was talking to people who, after an afternoon with him remembered him.
It wasn't a very long film: he died penniless with nothing in the picture about a crucifixion; he was buried by the History Guild. A couple of centuries later his life was reinvented in stories that made him seem super-human and suitable as an object of worship.
But I don't think he would have deigned to be called a God.
Some people think the act of worship is the highest form of flattery, but to someone who has a deep sense and faith in the dignity of man it is an act of self abnegation and something abusive of one of the most precious gifts given to man.
