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Review: 12 Years a Slave

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By: Michelle R. Gipson

It has been three hours since I left the movie theater seeing “12 Years a Slave” and I am still trying to cleanse my palette of what I have seen and heard.

I went to see “12 Years a Slave,” with a lot of pre-conceived expectations. This would be a slave’s story. A story not unlike “Roots” where we would travel down a dark piece of history to get a glimpse of a singular man’s life who endured a terrible time in our country's history.

I could not have been more wrong.

John Ridley’s screenplay was no slave’s story. It was a freeman’s story. This was no autobiography. This was a memoir.  And it was told with a combination of cinematography, dialogue and silence that made the story penetrate the viewer. This was not the story “about” Solomon Northrup. This movie was the story “of” Solomon Nothrup. We see the life around him, but more importantly we see the life in him – his thoughts, his fears, his hope and his resignations. The Solomon Northrup character played by Chiwetel Ejofor, has a depth and breadth that makes the viewer fall in love with him, hurt for him, be angry and disappointed in him and ultimately cheer for him.

Ejofor’s performance was flanked by lesser known actors that gave to the screen the same impactful presentation of the more notable actors as Benedict Cumberbatch, Paul Giamatti, and Alfre Woodard.  Lupita Nyong’o presence on screen made me emotional in a way that was unexpected.

There are vulnerabilities to the story. The violence was grotesque. I do understand why it was used and I do believe that it was a necessary part of the story telling, but it was the equivalent for me of the most terrifying horror show, deemed even more vile, because you can never forget for one second that the characters depicted on the screen were once people who walked this earth.  

The other criticism, and far less so, is that of Brad Pitt. Not of his performance, but his presence in the story. His character, Bass, presented the voice of consciousness in the form of forced dialogue that has fatigued films of this period. The Canadian sympathizer has a diatribe of sort with the slave owner that appeared in an unexplained way on screen, yet weaved itself in the story in such a way that gave a perfectly timed element of doubt to the viewer that made the triteness, minimally annoying.

I will probably remain a bit traumatized, which is to the credit of the directing vision of Steve McQueen and the life work of the researcher Dr. Sue Eakin, who read the original book 12 Years a Slave and then dedicated most of her life to uncovering all that she could of the lost story of this American hero and others like him who were not as fortunate as he to survive.

The movie is surprisingly not a movie for history buffs, but more for people who relish in stories of personal triumph. The period setting of “12 Years a Slave” will not be off-putting to those who don’t like historically set movies. This movie is not appropriate for children under 13 as there is a large degree of human cruelty.



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