12 Years a Slave

A drama with two storylines, an omniscient narrator and clearly defined objective and solidly cohesive dramaturgy? Dialogue handled predominantly with the shot/countershot technique? Softening of violent moments though precise editing? Not this time. Though 12 Years a Slave has been reproached for its conservative classicism, what McQueen adopts from the classic Hollywood style is especially an interest in the human body, which could also be described as an expression of his creative signature. Faithfulness to the original book even at the cost of breaking up the narrative into a number of episodes that are not firmly interconnected, and when one isn’t conditioned by another, was one of the many wise filmmaking choices that resulted in a lacerating cinematic account of the atrocities that whites perpetrated against a race that they considered to be inferior. McQueen’s mastery consists in the way he manages to avoid twisting historical facts in order for them to fit into the bigger story (like Spielberg in Amistad and Lincoln), while providing an extremely intense viewing experience. Thanks to the suppression of dramatic tension and the numerous static shots, the film seems like a series of consecutively arranged images that slowly burrow into the viewer’s memory thanks to the spiral repetition of certain situations and shot compositions. True to his background as a video artist, McQueen does not recount history or turn it into a drama, but instead lets it come alive as if it were happening right now. The protagonist’s hardships are therefore not viewed from the outside. We experience them together with Solomon, through his body, eyes and ears. Throughout the film, we know just as little as he does (for example, we never see the whole ship by which he is transported to New Orleans) and, despite the telling title of the film, we have just as few reasons to believe that he can emerge victorious from the uneven struggle for his own identity. The reduction of life to mere survival and the transformation of a person into an animal (or rather property) are highlighted by the loss of consciousness of spatial and temporal contexts, as we are not informed about the time and place of the events, with the exception of the introduction. In combination with the complete lack of moments providing relief, the abundance of unpleasant shots and images, from which the camera never turns away (the unpleasant shots are also the longest) makes 12 Years a Slave one of the most audacious films of last year. 90% (2014-01-31)

I was afraid of self-poignant historical frescoes about a cohesive black community and ugly southern slaveholders, but I got a surprisingly bright and complex story of a man who will perhaps too quickly acquire a forced identity and live his 12 years not in chains, but in separation (from his family, but also from the "community" of Negro slaves). Like Tarantino a year ago, McQueen ticks off too-simple boxes and pleasing catharsis. Although the screenplay sometimes casts unnecessarily large words under his feet, but the narrative through images, the emphasis on ambiguous "looking" into the face of the protagonist and his companions, and the inner stratification of individual Lords keep him close to his central theme - lack of freedom, which is not the result of specific enslavement, but rather existence itself. In the end, we can come to the surprising discovery that more than anything, 12 Years a Slave is a film about the acceptance of someone else's identity and the traumatic loss of oneself. Hence the often mentioned passivity of the main character, which is in fact an essential part of his choice to survive even through the greatest compromises. More like Frantz Fanon than Steven Spielberg, the film is masterful and strong in the best moments, despite its imbalance. In the others, perhaps safely approaching conventions, it is still at least fascinating and worth thinking about. [85%] (2014-01-10)

I sort of see parallels with today’s society in this and not an anti-racist fairytale with a happy ending, which they obviously seemed to want. McQueen has disappointed me for the first time, probably because he couldn’t be sufficiently detached from the topic and he forgot to spice it up with something. These torturous 12 years seem fairly relaxed and Platt doesn’t experience proper slavery until he’s with Fassbender, who is cutely eccentric and interprets the Word of the Lord in his own special way. And eventually he alone really deals out punishment. Chiwetel Ejiofor (how the heck do you pronounce that?) acts well, but he honestly doesn’t have that much to do and the nomination for an Oscar is a little bizarre. The concept of time passing was poorly intimated, it’s hard to tell how long he was where and if it wasn’t for the title and the granddaughter, it could have easily been like four years. Lifelessly filmed and if it weren’t for Fassbender, I just don’t know. Nothing exceptional, but it’s watchable. P.S.: Hans Zimmer sometimes shines, but the music is mostly pretty ordinary and the gospel overkill is just awful. I said dance! Come on! Get goin’, Platt! (2014-01-24)

I took the time to read a little more about the whole Solomon Northup thing. Right up to the moment when he is freed from slavery, it is a wonderful account of the American South before the Civil War. But why does the film end here? Because what happened later and how much information there is about it would not be as clear. It is no coincidence, after all, that the memoirs helped Northup write and publish it just a year after "Uncle Tom's Cabin" was published. None of those involved in his abduction were punished. Northup himself disappears very soon after a brief tour to promote his cause and book. Given the kind of manifesto the film version of 12 Years a Slave was meant to be, it raises more questions, and it's not just about the pious parallel with today. Why all the acting orgies by Fassbender, Paulson, or Pitt? Nyong'o is only acting in the MCU these days anyway, so I'm not really feeling all that good about it. (2019-01-30)

Django turned upside down. An odyssey into the emotional and mental state that results from the loss of dignity and absolute humiliation, quietly conveyed in wide-angle shots of marshy Louisiana with music by Hans Zimmer that is reminiscent of his score for The Thin Red Line (Williams’s strings would have worked better here). The unimaginative but “safe” Hollywood narrative template keeps the film unnecessarily tame and moves it away from the original character we had hoped for from the film’s director, Steve McQueen. He made a huge mistake by casting the likeable Fassbender in the key and most complex role of the sadistic, evil and weak Epps. Even Benedict Cumberbatch would have been a better fit for this paraphrase of the character of Amon Goeth (Ralph Fiennes) from Schindler’s List and, with a more believable embodiment of ultimate human evil, the last third of the film escalating in the final flogging could have been the most powerful movie moment of the year. (2014-02-04)