Review of 12 Years a Slave

Many movies are made to entertain. Even those with strong dramatic underpinnings ultimately want audiences to leave feeling good about the world or at least satisfied with a night's excursion. But then there are those that seek to challenge, to provoke, and to teach. Steve McQueen's 12 Years a Slave, the third and easily the most accessible of the up-and-coming British director's career, accomplishes all three of those goals and does so in an uncompromising manner no one will forget. It's an uncomfortable watch, but that's entirely the point; McQueen fashioned this motion picture in order to peel away any misconceptions of slavery in the movies and display the horrors for what they truly are. And much like another superior 2013 movie about race relations (Fruitvale Station), the "Based on a True Story" blurb (on Solomon Northrup's 1853 memoir) amplifies the effect.

As 12 Years a Slave begins, we're introduced to Solomon Northrup (Chiwetel Ejiofor), an educated, free black man with a wife and two children living in Saratoga, NY. He displays great talent with the violin, and professional illusionists Brown (Scoot McNairy) and Hamilton (Taran Killam) make him an extremely lucrative offer for him to join their travelling circus. It's all a ruse, of course, and after a night of drinking and partying, Solomon wakes up in shackles, learning that he is about to be stripped of his identity and sold into slavery. There is nothing he can do to protest, and after being forced into a new identity as a Georgia runaway named Platt, he ends up at the New Orleans mansion of Master Ford (Bennedict Cumberbatch). Ford is significantly less cruel than most slavers, but the same cannot be said for his hotheaded assistant, Tibeats (Paul Dano). When actions by Solomon threaten to splinter the relationships of the plantation owners, Ford has no choice but to sell him to the only bidder, the relentlessly monstrous Edwin Epps (Michael Fassbender) and his nasty shrew of a wife (Sarah Paulson).

12 Years a Slave is a first-person account of Solomon Northrup's ordeal. Free from any pretensions of offering a cathartic revenge fantasy like last year's Django Unchained did, McQueen takes the material down to earth and displays the conditions of slavery as nothing less than atrocious and without the smallest kernel of traditional "entertainment" value. But just because every living American understands the atrocities of slavery doesn't mean there weren't incredibly complex forces at work during the time, especially with respect to the relationship between masters and slaves. In one scene, Master Ford is referred to by Solomon as "a good man, considering the circumstances" while another character, mourning the separation of herself from her children, vehemently disagrees. In pre-Civil War America, where human beings don't even have equality under the law, concepts like right and wrong, good and evil, are warped in the extreme.

Lee Daniels' The Butler depicted a schism in two characters' views on the role of the Black man in America during the Civil Rights Movement, but that's a conflict that characters in McQueen's film and in this particular era would've yearned for. Solomon faces a war of emotional will, but the stakes are raised. Early in the film, a fellow captive warns Solomon to let no one know of his ability to read and write lest he suffer an ugly fate, and so he takes that advice, all while adopting a "don't rock the boat" attitude that he hopes will serve him well. That mentality keeps him alive and hoping but does no good in lessening the amount of punishment he receives when compared to others. Ultimately, Solomon's refusal to play the victim in spite of being horrifically victimized is what propelled him to eventually return home (hey, that's not a spoiler, it's in the title).

The maddening complexity of master/slave relationships extends well into the Epps plantation story thread, where Epps displays a sickly sexual fascination with his best cotton picker, a young woman named Patsey (Lupita Nyong'o in her feature debut). His wife knows what's going on and despises both him and her equally, demanding that he beat Patsey within an inch of her life to teach her a lesson. And so Epps must struggle to come to grips with what he's really feeling toward this woman. It's almost as if Michael Fassbender is re-visiting territory in McQueen's last film, the sensationally provocative sex-addiction drama Shame. And a late conversation between Epps and hired help Bass (Brad Pitt) about morality versus the law is fascinating without being the least bit preachy.

When Academy Awards nominations for acting ring in, 12 Years a Slave has every right to a stream of them. Chiwetel Ejiofor has been a steady, dependable actor for well over a decade, but this is his shining moment. His acting with his eyes, face, and body language speak every bit as loudly as his passages of dialogue. Fassbender is, of course, brilliant once again in a supporting role, and newcomer Lupita Nyong'o burns up the screen with her raw, passionate display. The single most uncomfortable moment in 12 Years a Slave involves an extended whipping, and it's where the performances of all three involved reach their peak. Supporting players including the good (Brad Pitt), the ambiguous, (Benedict Cumberbatch) and the disgustingly ugly (Paul Giamatti as a trader) are all excellent.

McQueen has made a movie that will play well with mainstream audiences who know what they're walking into, but he still retains stylistic elements from his previous, lower-budgeted endeavors. He's fond of long takes and close-ups, and he unleashes a truly memorable master shot upon us during a scene where Solomon is hanging by a noose with only his tip-toes on the ground saving him from strangulation. Passers by roam in and out of the scene as time passes, the director daring us not to look away. Also noteworthy is a scene featuring Tibeats singing a song filled with utterances of "nigger." McQueen lets the song segue into the next scene as if to dare us into getting it stuck in our heads. Some may call this manipulative, but there's a method to the madness. McQueen is striving for a sense of discomfort, where even small scenes of relief are tinged with bitterness.

Is 12 Years a Slave, with its lofty goal of enriching and telling a story about one of the ugliest stains in American history, so-called "Oscar Bait?" No more than superhero movies are box office bait. Cinema has been waiting for a definitive, serious-minded, single-movie take on a slavery-based story (before now, you could argue Roots, but that was a mini-series). We now have it. And in spite of all the gut-punches this movie delivers on an emotional level, the story is at its core about the will to survive in the face of unfairly enormous odds. For its uncompromising vision, fearless emotional power, brave performances, and emotionally complex characterization, 12 Years a Slave demands to be sought out.

Rating: **** (out of ****)  

Review of Captain Phillips

I'm always amazed at how much tension filmmakers can wring from a situation where everyone in the audience is aware of the outcome. Ben Affleck did it so well with last year's Argo that he won an Oscar for it. Now Paul Greengrass has successfully mined similar territory with Captain Phillips. This is a white-knuckle thriller that, in spite of the presence of military and pirates, is all about matching wits. The fact that the ending is a matter of public record does very little to defuse the suspense the director wants us to feel. And to top things off, Greengrass even provides room for social commentary, although it is used sparingly so as not to slow down the fittingly relentless pace.

Captain Phillips is based on a non-fiction book written by Captain Richard Phillips and Stephen Talty entitled A Captain's Duty: Somali Pirates, Navy SEALS, and Dangerous Days at Sea. It depicts events from April 2009 where a group of four Somali pirates successfully hijack the merchant vessel Maersk Alabama. Captain Phillips (Tom Hanks) and his crew are initially able to outsmart the pirates and keep them from taking lives, but Phillips is eventually taken hostage by the pirates aboard a lifeboat. This triggers a game of moves and counter-moves between the pirates and the US Navy. After a brief setup, Greengrass' film devotes relatively equal time to the action aboard and ship and the hostage situation.

The advertising material markets Captain Phillips as being "From the Director of The Bourne Supremacy," but a better analog may very well be Greengrass' 2006 film United 93. That film established a unique, "you are there" perspective in depicting events from 9/11, and the director achieves similar success with this tale in American history as well. The sense of claustrophobia is undeniable and the threat of death always palpable, whether the situation involves the pirates hunting down Phillips' crew in dank, dark corridors, or the constantly escalating sense of dread aboard the lifeboat. As is the case with a Greengrass film, shaky-cam style is evident, but since this is a film about a battle of wits rather than explosions and fights, the chaotic approach works greatly in its favor.

Captain Phillips doesn't offer as much insight into the socio-economic realities of Somalia as a novel or documentary might, but the few scenes Greengrass displays it speak loudly and lucidly. The two main scenes of setup, one involving a casual conversation between Phillips and his wife about how much tougher the job market is today, and another involving the recruitment of pirates for hijacking jobs, set the tone for what's to come. Later, when Phillips remarks to the pirate leader that there has to be more to life than fishing and stealing, he replies, "Maybe in America, Irish. Maybe in America...."   Finally, Captain Phillips addresses Stockholm Syndrome, namely the idea that a captive can develop a meaningful connection with his captors even as he desperately wishes to be rescued. The final scene argues that not only is it possible, but it can prove emotionally devastating.

For the most part, the only actors whose performances matter are Tom Hanks and the four unknowns making their feature debuts as the pirates. Hanks is once again in top form as a very relatable man who acts believably in extraordinary circumstances. Phillips is unarmed and physically outmatched, so he must rely on his guile and smarts to gain the upper hand on his captors. Barkhad Abdi has the most visible secondary role as the pirates' leader, and he's an excellent foil for our protagonist. The lack of experience among all four actors is hardly a drawback. By spending so much time with the established enemies of the conflict, Captain Phillips lets us get to know them as people, and that can't be underestimated in the role it plays in involving us on an emotional level.

Captain Phillips will leave most viewers exhausted. From the first sight of the pirates headed toward the Alabama, the tension never lets up. Again, while the resolution of the movie's main conflict is a matter of historical record, it's quite a treat to absorb all of the details in how it plays out. I'm sure Captain Phillips will play its part in the Oscar race; it's a classic thriller with all of the important elements that helped out not only Argo, but also Zero Dark Thirty as well (the presence of SEALS strengthens the connection with the latter). This is top-notch entertainment that should please just about everyone.

Rating: ***1/2 (out of ****)

Review of Gravity

Gravity is a phenomenal, awe-inspiring movie-going experience. Not just a very good, highly-recommended one, mind you, but a truly great one. It delivers a relentlessly suspenseful tale of survival and the indestructibility of the human will, and it does so in a manner we've never before seen. In a way, dedicating a couple of paragraphs reviewing it is almost silly because with something like this, seeing is believing. Director Alfonso Cuaron, who hasn't directed a film since 2006's superb sci-fi tale Children of Men, has returned to cinema with the force of a lightning bolt. He has crafted a motion picture that can only work as a movie. With its amazing visual power and constant white-knuckle suspense, it's made to be projected on a large screen (and with the best use of 3D in years, to boot), enveloping viewers in another reality for 90 minutes (the perfect length, by the way) and letting them emerge blown away and a little disoriented.

If you've seen the trailers, you already know the setup, and the minimalist plot works entirely in the film's favor. Gravity begins in the vast reaches of space with a beautiful shot of Earth, where it will spend the rest of the film. A shuttle slowly enters from the right side of the screen and radio chatter perks up. That's when we're introduced to Dr. Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock), a medical engineer on her first spacewalk, and astronaut Matt Kowalski (George Clooney), as the two are doing routine maintenance aboard a satellite. Houston (voice of Ed Harris) informs them that debris from a nearby explosion is headed their way and that they must abort immediately. But Stone is just a few seconds too late, and the resulting collision sends her hurtling into nothingness. Kowalski manages to save her thanks to his jet pack, but with no contact from Mission Control and oxygen running out, their options for survival are slim at best.

I have described, at most, the first 25 minutes. Suffice it to say the rest is better discovered through experiencing. For a movie with such a slim narrative, visual prowess and scene construction takes on a far greater responsibility than it would in a more traditional film. And does it ever impress and then some. Gravity is one memorable image after another, from the breathtaking opening shot (lasting more than 10 minutes as Cuaron's camera slowly swishes and pans around the action) to the accident, through Stone's fight for survival, to the final outcome. Sound also plays just as large a role; an opening caption helpfully and accurately reminds us that sound waves cannot travel through the vacuum of space. When disaster strikes, the only noise we hear is the musical score and radio dialogue. At no point does Gravity waver from this key principle.

Cuaron makes every correct decision in presenting the human side of this tale. There are no "meanwhile, at Mission Control" scenes or any scene at all diverting our attention from Stone and Kowalski. No human villains come within a thousand light-years of the proceedings. And in giving us backstory for Stone, the director/screenwriter presents us with just enough information to let us in on her fragile state of mind without overplaying his hand. The same goes for a key scene late in the film where she, and therefore we, learn something enlightening about inner will; it could have gone so horribly over-the-top, but Cuaron shows just enough restraint. He's walking a tightrope as thin as the ropes dangling from a damaged space station, and he pulls it off.

With so much time spent alone with one character, Sandra Bullock's performance is tantamount to the film's success. Sure, Clooney is as delightful as ever with his one-liners and ever-present charm, but his participation is limited. Bullock has spearheaded the Women in the Movies movement of 2013, appearing front-and-center in two traditionally male-dominated genres, comedy (The Heat) and now here with science fiction. In a strange way, her battle with mortality and the will to survive isn't all that different from that of Sigourney Weaver in the Alien movies, but one could argue that the emptiness and isolation of space is even scarier than that of a large creature with sharp teeth. We identify with her and root for her to pull off the impossible, and once again, I must comment that since Gravity is an original property by a director who's not afraid to be unconventional, we literally have no idea of her fate.

Ever since Avatar, I've waited four years for the next mind-blowing, game-changing use of 3D. After all, so many studios and movies, seeing nothing more than $$$, thrust it upon us with little regard to whether it actually enhances the movie-going experience. But Gravity reminds us of its power when utilized by a master craftsman. Cuaron developed this movie specifically to be used with 3D, and with it, the finished product is immersive, with stunning depth oozing from every scene. This isn't an amusement park ride designed to throw objects at a gasping audience, it's a world where viewers can lose all sense of ordinary life and become involved in a desperate struggle. From the very first moment, I was there, lost in space with the characters. In fact, Gravity might be the first movie I've seen where I recommend sitting in the first few rows, as I was forced to during an advance screening. Go ahead and let the towering images loom over you. Your neck will be fine.       

Man vs nature (or in this case, woman vs nature with a little helping of woman vs self) is hardly a new conflict in literature or in cinema. We've seen it before, but never played out in this particular fashion. As I mentioned before, Gravity, as told here, can only reach its full power as a film. It would lose significant power in a TV-based, small-screen realm. Some will view this movie as "(insert survival movie here) in space." Some may see only a technical exercise, but I believe they're missing the point. Visual, viscerally powerful film-making isn't just limited to "blockbuster" films with shootouts and explosions; it works every bit as well here, where every image serves the story and its themes rather than overwhelms them.

Technology in the movies has progressed to the point where blurbs like "it will blow you away" seem superfluous. But Gravity is that rare film that embodies such a lofty claim and then some. This is a transcendent cinematic experience, unlike any we've ever seen. Do not let it pass you by.

Rating: **** (out of ****)