Film: 12 Years a Slave

Director: Steve McQueen
Genre: Drama
Source: USA (2013)
Rating: R
Location/Format: Glynn Place Stadium Cinema
Grade: A

There's a moment in 12 Years a Slave that sticks with me as much as any of the scenes of horror and cruelty. Chiwetel Ejiofor, in a moment of repose, surveys his surroundings. And then for what feels like an agonizingly long time (though it could only be a few seconds) he looks directly into the camera. His face seems passive, and yet the intensity in his eyes seems to send a thousand messages: accusations, shame, disbelief, disappointment, betrayal, anger, sadness. It's an incredible moment in part because it breaks the wall of cinema and reminds viewers that this may be a film, but it is also a piece of history, a reminder of the myriad ways man has found to be cruel to one another, to belittle one another, to dehumanize one another. It knocked me back in my seat, one last blow to flatten me emotionally.

Because make no mistake, this is a devastating film, with powerhouse acting from the entire cast, but particularly Ejiofor, Michael Fassbender, and Lupita Nyong'o (who I have never seen before). The film manages somehow to both remain distant from its subjects--observing for the most part, instead of overpowering; letting the horror of what man does to man (and woman) speak for itself--and incredibly intimate and personal. That fine balance is achieved by director Steve McQueen, who seems to specialize in films in watch individuals torture themselves and others. Despite the above mentioned fourth-wall-breaking, McQueen doesn't resort to a lot of flashy techniques. The film is deliberately paced, yet each scene seems to bring with it a new way of debasing Ejiofor and the other enslaved characters, a new way to show the whites justifying their actions. There are few (if any) melodramatic speeches here, but there is an incredible amount of humanity on display: the screams of a mother as her children are taken from her, the exhaustion of other characters with her wailing, the desire for connection, the self-disgust, the coping mechanisms, the petty jealousies, and the demeaning of both enslaved and enslaver. McQueen holds nothing back, and the film doesn't give you pause to look away.

What else is there, the film asks, but to find a way to either kill yourself or keep going? (And either option might be viable and valid). This theme is exemplified in a much-discussed scene in which Ejiofor's Solomon Northup is strung up to hang by an overseer. His toes are in the mud, and for what feels like agonizing hours as the day passes he constantly readjusts himself, trying to stay on his feet long enough to keep his windpipe open, to prevent the noose around his neck from taking the full weight of his body. These tiny steps by his toes are desperate, a constant fight to readjust and save himself. In the background, life goes on for the rest of the plantation. Other slaves come out to work. Children come out to play. The mistress stands on the porch--looking concerned, but not willing to go cut him down. It is dusk before anyone comes to change the scene, and his "savior" is only willing to save him from this one torture, not from anything else. This cruelty, McQueen reminds us, becomes the norm--accepted and justified by the threat of violence and the unending degradation so that even in the face of such barbarity, life just goes on. The scene is not the most terrible in the film, but it is powerful all the same.

In the end 12 Years a Slave works not just due to the directing and the acting, but due to the commitment one senses by all involved not to look away, not to just let life go on, but to remind us that this happened--that in reality we are not very far removed from some of our most barbarous capabilities. The film breaks us down as viewers, and it reminds us that this piece of our past is not only our most terrible, but also our most shameful. It's overwhelming.