In a perfect world 12 Years A Slave finds an incredibly wide audience, causes America to collectively shudder at our tragic past, and opens us up to changing our broken present. But in a perfect world, slavery never existed and systemic racism isn’t rampant today. Yeah, I’m coming out swinging with this review of Steve McQueen’s masterful and convicting new film.
I’m going to argue that 12 Years A Slave is a subtle film, and that its restraint is a major part of what makes it great. How can a film filled with flayed skin and poetically rich language be considered subtle? Just look at any number of Hollywood epics concerning a topic so dramatic as slavery or racism. Nowhere in Hans Zimmer’s score will you find swelling music designed to get your tear ducts flowing. Nowhere in the screenplay by John Ridley (and based on the memoir by Solomon Northup himself) will you find speechifying or preaching, which is a huge temptation in stories like this. And McQueen and cinematographer John Bobbitt once more implement their trademark long takes which serve to draw the viewer deeper and deeper into the hellish reality of 1840s American slavery, rather than to distract with their showiness or technicality.
The subject matter of 12 Years A Slave is horrifying. Solomon Northup (Chiwetel Ejiofor in a typically phenomenal performance) is a free black man living in New York state; married with children. Through an act of pure evil, he is tricked, drugged and sold into slavery. The film then follows him through each new wave of horror as he is brought to sale, purchased, and then traded amongst various owners as though he were cattle. Hiding his ability to read and write is one of the only ways Solomon is able to survive and attempt to affect his own rescue. I won’t delve into plot any deeper than I already have. But a mere description of the plot does the film no justice.
McQueen’s masterful storytelling elevates 12 Years A Slave to one of the best films of the year. Digging into what I’ve already alluded to, McQueen has become known for his long, ponderous shots. I sadly haven’t seen his first feature Hunger yet, but I know there is a single take that lasts upwards of 20 minutes and is purportedly riveting. Shame, McQueen’s second feature film with Michael Fassbender in the lead, shined a powerful light on sexual addiction in a film that was easily one of the bravest and most powerful of 2011. That film also featured a level of filmmaking craft that felt assured and stylish, while never distracting from the somber content at hand. Here, in 12 Years A Slave, the rhythm of the tale is key. McQueen’s willingness to hold on a shot, almost stubbornly, for far longer than most filmmakers would, is engrossing.
In one particular single take, we see Solomon in a noose, toes barely touching the ground. McQueen holds us here, with no music, and no dialog; just a desperate man, tiptoeing in the mud, clinging to life. The longer the shot goes, the more engrossed and repulsed one becomes. As Solomon dangles, and the camera pulls back, the other slaves of the plantation begin to go back about their business, pretending all is well for fear of reprisal. The shot remains. Ages seem to pass and viewers begin to think not just about Solomon’s plight, or the others in the film, but the horrors of the whole system that allow this man to dangle there on screen. The shot lingers even longer. And one starts to think about how the ripples of slavery have impacted the still-fallen country we live in today, and our individual roles in that system. That single, still, quiet shot put me through the gamut of emotions and insecurities without speaking a word. And there are dozens of truth-soaked moments like that throughout the film.
Even the beauty of the American South’s landscape is shot evocatively. Mossy trees and swamps at sunset appear beautiful but imply dread. The America of 12 Years A Slave is an awful place. Fear lies behind every beautiful landscape. Solomon is systematically stripped of his family, his freedom, his pride, and even his name. And it seems, at times, that even creation is working against him. That same landscape remains today.
I mentioned that Ejiofor is brilliant, as he has always been. Fassbender has the largest supporting role as a slave owner who isn’t so much a villain as a fleshed-out and multi-dimensional wealthy white slave owner of the South. He believes his slaves are his property, takes to the drink, fights with his wife, and creates a perfect hell for all of his slaves; but a seventh level of hell for a character named Patsey (Lupita Nyong’o.) Patsey exposes perfectly the plight of a female slave who comes between the husband and wife of her owners. Truly, Patsey may be one of the single most tragic characters I’ve ever witnessed on the big screen.
Paul Giamatti takes a rueful turn as an auctioneer in a brave performance riddled with hateful words and even more hateful actions. Benedict Cumberbatch shows up as a slightly more sympathetic slave owner. And by slightly more sympathetic I mean he’d be the kind of person who today says things like, “I have lots of Black friends, I’m not racist, but…” Garett Dillahunt and Brad Pitt also have supporting roles, as do Scoot McNairy and Paul Dano. The film is filled out with a phenomenal cast and each new person Solomon meets will make you fear for him and cheer for him all the more.
McQueen has crafted a powerful film that holds a mirror up to America and makes damn sure that America is honest about what it sees reflected. He refuses even a drop of sentimentality, but places on screen images of flaying skin, whipped by men who believe in their souls that they own other men. He hangs Solomon from a noose and forces us to look on. All viewers will take away something different, perhaps many will read completely different meanings onto the hanging scene than I detailed above. But McQueen makes sure that anyone with eyes to see and ears to hear will leave the theater knowing one thing in their core: slavery is an abomination. And while American slavery was a particularly harsh and vile form of the practice, any form of human ownership is equally reprehensible. I don’t mean to get preachy since McQueen so masterfully avoided the soap box with 12 Years A Slave. But the unjust rise of human sex trafficking and entrenched systemic racism of today gives a tragic relevance to 12 Years A Slave which could make it not merely one of the best films of this year, but one of the more important films of our generation.
And I’m Out.