I’m scared of bridges. A couple of years ago, I made a wrong turn and accidentally ended up on the Mystic River Bridge. It must have been under construction, because I got the nauseating impression that it was going to spit me out in midair every ten feet. I just wanted to stop my car, call the fire station, and ask them to get me down now. Fear of Bostonian drivers, however, overwhelmed my fear of bridges, and is probably the reason I’m not stranded on the Tobin Bridge to this day. In honor of Bridge Week, and my experience of not falling in to Mystic River, I’m covering another Clint Eastwood title: Invictus.
Before I saw it, by the way, I kept confusing the titles Invictus and Inception. I have no special fondness for Leonardo or his shape-shifting head, but Inception looks impressive.
Anyway, in Invictus, the only date we get is in the beginning of the movie: February 11, 1990, the day Nelson Mandela was released from prison. In case, like me, you were in middle school and don’t remember, Mandela became President in 1994; in case, like me, you are indifferent to sports and don’t care, the Rugby World Cup they refer to in this film happened in 1995. So this did all happen in a few months, but I’m sure Mandela didn’t really ignore everything for the sake of the South African rugby team. Still, seen a cold, abstract point of view, making a divided country come together over a sports team is a terrific plan and makes for a great story. It should be a book! Oh wait, it is.
The screenplay was adapted/written by Anthony Peckham, who is clearly smarter than a fifth-grader. That’s all I can say for him. It’s a wooden, predictable screenplay, filled with obvious gestures and symbolism. Do writers of obvious screenplays talk like their characters? “I am taking out the garbage. This is symbolic of my role as ‘Responsible Husband’.” I bet George Lucas talks like that, but I love George Lucas, so clam it.
Morgan Freeman as Mandela is very distracting. He is so obviously Morgan Freeman that it is nearly impossible to think of him as Nelson Mandela, one of the most inspiring people in the world. We think, “Morgan Freeman is doing such a good job playing Mandela!” which is not the point of movies. I wish Clint had gotten an unknown South African actor. When Morgan and Matt are in a room alone for the first time, acting like Mandela and the rugby captain, it all seems like a stilted joke.
That said, the choice of Matt Damon isn’t bad. His bleached hair is super-cute, but I wish they’d shown more locker room six-pack scenes. The End.
The accents in this film are some absurd American-Celtic-Australian blend. They sometimes hit on South African, and props for that, but more often, they careen all over the globe. It’s fun, don’t get me wrong, but that is also not the point of movies.
In the end, I feel weird enjoying Invictus. It’s something of a 90’s movie. When did Remember the Titans come out? 2000? It might have been all right to be emotionally moved by interracial unity in those days. I certainly didn’t know any better. Now, however, being uplifted by something that should clearly happen seems absurd. I can’t watch Invictus as a legitimate historical film, because that’s not how it was made, and I can’t watch it as an inspiring movie, because it insistently asks: “Are you inspired? How about now? You are, right?” I have cognitive dissonance in my heart.
It’s evident, from the film, that bridges scared everyone except Mandela. The time he spent in prison is approximately my entire life thus far, and probably yours too, and he still managed to do amazing work. If you’re less particular than I am, you’ll probably enjoy this movie, but, in any case, the motivation to read Mandela’s autobiography is certainly worth the two hours spent watching Invictus.
Image credit: Warner Bros.
ok, so I watched the movie the other week and your article made me realize why it was so darn confusing. It wasn’t written to be your typical sports-team-brings-the-nation-together type film. It was supposed to be an art piece, with the line between character and actor always already present, the “realistic” accents replaced by an “every-man” and “no-man” accent at the same time, and a structuring of time that pushes the audience away in an effort to approach something akin to Brechtian alienation effect. I guess the original art house script envisioned by the author was dismantled by the Hollywood studios. That’s the only explanation I can think of.
“Are you inspired? How about now? You are, right?” I have cognitive dissonance in my heart.
An appropriate moment for someone to stand up and 90s slow-clap.
@ Ari: Considering Anthony Peckham wrote such gems as “Don’t Say a Word” and “Sherlock Holmes” – well, anything’s possible! That’s actually a neat way to see the movie, except with “always already” you get into theory talk and my brain is always already confused…;)
@ futaishi: I’m feeling less cognitive dissonance already.