Saturday, December 12
Invictus
The rejuvenation of a man, wrongly imprisoned for 30 years, only to return and lead his people to peace and prosperity. It's not Edmond Dantes, it's Nelson Mandela. The South African revolutionary who ended Apartheid now is the subject of a biopic by master filmmaker Clint Eastwood. His longstanding friendship with Morgan Freeman catalyzed this unusual genre for Eastwood, but this is the role that Freeman was born to play, complete with the bright, toothy smile and the white/grey streaks through his hair.
The film presents its heavy themes through the easily interpreted metaphor of sports. In this case, rugby. This move is simultaneously brilliant and distracting from the importance of the country's struggles. Matt Damon plays the team captain who is trying to boost the confidence of the underdog team as they enter the hallowed World Cup in 1995. What on the surface appears to be a wonderful confluence of stories, and as inspirational as it is, becomes a little divided between a sports story, and a powerful political drama.
There was tension put into play by making the newly empowered security detail a focal point of the story, as well as the racially integrated composition element. There were brief moments where assassination attempts seemed likely, and I kept bracing myself for the possibility, but the mood kept turning toward hope and peace. The post-Apartheid violence was overshadowed by the magnanimous man willing to forgive his oppressors.
Damon gives a good performance, but is very stoic and stereotypical as the leader of the team. He does not give pep talks as you would think appropriate in this type of film, and he leads them into competition, but the character angle of the sports theme is a bit dry and fleeting.
This is the perfect role for Freeman, although he doesn't have to stretch much beyond the manipulated accent. It is reminiscent of last year's Frank Langella playing Nixon, only slightly less powerful. Eastwood's trademark storytelling is clear by touching shots of the slums and divisive communities, as well as the music. Lone piano key strokes with subtle mood manipulating melodies constantly bring me back to Unforgiven and Million Dollar Baby. Not a bad thing, but not exactly what I want to think about during a 1991 racial film.
In many ways reminiscent of Remember the Titans, Invictus uses racial tension to bolster what is an otherwise relatively insignificant and common sports underdog feat. I like the dedication that Eastwood gives to the authenticity of the film, but I was left feeling a little manipulated.
I enjoyed this film, and I am sure that with this award season wide open, it will garner some nominations, but I don't see it winning anything beyond the nostalgic biopic votes (Frost/Nixon?). Definitely worth watching - a remarkable true story that warms the heart and educates on the all too recent injustices in the world. 7/10.
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