As I sit down to write this review -- nearly 24 hours after seeing 12 Years a Slave -- I'm still sort of at a loss as to what I should say. This is a film of such horror and brutality, not to mention power and grandeur, that I feel like writing about it on my stupid little blog is kind of a waste of everyone's time.
It's not that I don't feel like I can do the movie justice -- I can unload superlatives from a thesaurus as good as the next man, and, in the end, I think I'll do a pretty good job selling this movie to anyone within earshot. But, even then, I don't know that I can describe the emotional experience of seeing this movie with anything resembling competence or adequacy.
But, what the hell? I'll do my best.
12 Years a Slave tells the true story of Solomon Northrup, a free man living with his family in New York in 1841, who was tricked, kidnapped, and sold into slavery in the Deep South. He spends over a decade living has human property, passed from owner to owner, witnessing untold horrors and abominations.
Ultimately, Solomon is the audience's vessel in an exploration of the American slave trade. Before this film, slavery in the United States has really only been glossed over, usually reserved for stories on the periphery of something else. In other words, Hollywood's approach to slavery has always been safe, rarely giving audiences a real stake in the atrocities that accompanied our nation's greatest shame.
12 Years a Slave does not pull its punches. Instead, it puts the audience right in the middle of it all, giving us a look at the physical hideousness of slavery in the South as well as a peek at the mindset of those that justified the practice as an act of either godly righteousness or earthly entitlement. There's nothing glossy or sugarcoated about this movie. Instead, it is the cinematic equivalent of a long, slow beating.
Solomon is played by British Actor Chiwetel Ejiofor, who portrays the character with a quiet dignity, often betraying moments of rage and confusion bubbling beneath the surface. This is a refined and educated man thrust into a situation that is, in many ways, beyond his comprehension. That being the case, Solomon is the perfect vessel for this story and Ejiofor -- with his innate humanity and intelligence -- is the perfect actor to play him. His is a towering, soul-stirring performance. It simply cannot be oversold.
All in all, they cast the hell out of this movie. It seems that every part, no matter how small, is filled with the perfect actor.
Chief among the supporting performances is Michael Fassbender, who plays Epps, a sadistic plantation owner who takes joy in inflicting pain and misery on his slaves. While he spreads it around, most of his angst is directed at a slave named Patsey (played by Lupita Nyong'o), who also happens to be the most efficient and hardworking slave on his plantation. There are terrifying scenes involving Epps fixation on Patsey -- she is both the object of his rage and his lust -- that I don't feel like I can adequately describe.
The movie is directed by Steve McQueen, a young British filmmaker of West Indian descent. I have to admit that I haven't seen either of his previous two films, Hunger and Shame. After seeing 12 Years a Slave, I'm not so sure that I want to. Still, McQueen is clearly a force to be reckoned with.
As you can tell, this is not an easy film to watch. It is, quite honestly, a cinematic kick to the balls. Still, there are elements of 12 Years a Slave that are so profoundly moving as to (yes...again) defy suitable description.
For example, as the title suggests, Solomon is not kept in slavery forever. The moment of his return home at the end of his ordeal is so powerful that I wept there in the movie theater and again in the car on the way home. This is not to say that it slips into sentimentality -- not at all. Instead, it is just a testament to journey you take with this character and experience of seeing this movie from beginning to end.
12 Years a Slave is a landmark film. It is, quite simply, a masterpiece. There, I said it. This movie tears you down to shreds with, I believe, a hope that you will leave the experience a more compassionate person with a greater respect for freedom and human dignity.
I've never seen anything quite like it.

I have desperately wanted to see this from the first time I saw the trailer.
ReplyDeleteOkay, I have to see this *soon*.
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