In my country

Let’s start with the facts. In 1995, President Nelson Mandela established the Truth and Reconciliation Commision, a court-like system meant to witness, record and, in some cases, pardon some of the most atrocious acts of violence, torture and, generally speaking, human rights violations that happened during the Apartheid. Its mission, the way I see it, was twofold. First, it was meant to actually achieve reconciliation between the black and white communities of South Africa (a mission whose degree of success is highly debatable). Second, the Court’s hearings were used as a mechanism of documenting these atrocities so that all South Africans could have a more nuanced perspective and resource materials on their history. The Court’s mission is, in itself, a controversy. To its architects, it was a device to uncover the truth by using amnesty for perpetrators as a mediating force. It wasn’t, in itself, a judicial body meant to punish those who have harmed others.  Based on the ethical African concept of “ubuntu” – which can be broadly defined as the ways in which people relate to each other – the TRC seemed more as an instrument of healing than one of revenge. But as the horrifying stories presented in the township hearings were being broadcast all over South Africa at the time, it was only natural that the entire process caused very mixed feelings among the general public.

John Boorman’s In my country, set at the time of the commission hearings, tries to capture the complexity of life in those tumultuous times while creating an enticing story that would be appealing to a Western audience. He is only partly successful in doing any of the two. Samuel Jackson plays Langston Whitfield, a Washington Post reporter covering the hearings. Whitfield is highly skeptical of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and his aversion towards the whole process becomes apparent both in his writing and his radical views of what happened in the country and what the role of “all the White people in South Africa” was. He thinks the perpetrators are easily getting away with murder and that justice is not served. As it happens, he meets Anna Malan, a white Afrikaaner poet who was commissioned to do daily broadcasts for the South African Broadcasting Company. The two start on the wrong foot, as they have very different views on the commission, but they end up sleeping together. In the process, we think, Whitfield changes his mind and eventually sees the value of the hearings but the script doesn’t specifically reveals it.

Now, the movie received mixed reviews from critics. After doing a little bit of research I realized that Western critics criticized the movie heavily for its unnecessary sub-plots, love stories, and predictability, while South African critics praised them for covering such a critical episode in post-Apartheid history.

As far as I am concerned, if there was one topic where sexual intercourse should have been left out of the equation, perhaps the Truth and Reconciliation Commission was one of them. The white Afrikaner journalist falls in love with the black American journalist and they eventually end up in bed.  Even if the director wanted to use this sub-plot as a metaphor for the reconciliation, the idea was rather simplistic at best. After all, Whitfield is American so his background does not really qualify his for the metaphor.

Otherwise, I think this is a good movie in that it actually introduces the Western audience to an episode in South Africa’s post-apartheid history which is not actually known by a lot of people.

I rate this movie 6/10  

The action happens in 1976, in Soweto, supposedly before the infamous uprisings.  I know that, simply because there’s no mention of the massacres. Overall the movie lacks any contextualization of the struggle for freedom and dramatic events are interrupted by dance numbers which means you’re never sure of what is really happening.

Sarafina is a young girl who secretly cherishes a picture of Nelson Mandela. She wants him free and comes to realize that disobedience is her last weapon. She becomes more radical when a boy she likes is brutally murdered by the white cops. Her only source of inspiration is her teacher Mary, with whom she shares her frustration and dreams for a better future. Mary is not in piece with herself either. She is in love with a hardcore militant who asks her to hide a gun just before he is incarcerated. Things get more complicated and confusing when the machinegun is eventually passed on to Serafina. What this subplot is supposed to mean remains a mystery.

Perhaps the most critical scenes in the movie are the ones in which brutal acts of violence are committed: when the young boy is killed for no apparent reason, when the “bad African” working for the whites is set on fire, when Sarafina is tortured and so on. Whether the violence is really necessary remains unexplored. The apartheid as a historical era shows that violence was necessary in order to weaken the white regime. The movie doesn’t really make that point. Instead, we get more dancing and singing which feels like a slap of my face.

In a wealthy Afrikaner neighborhood of Johannesburg we meet Sarafina’s mother played with astounding grace by South African legend Miriam Makeba. Sarafina visits her after a traumatizing moment in her life. She doesn’t know what to say or to express how much she appreciates her mother. To me, the movie reaches the maximum intensity when we hear the following dramatic rhetorical question: “Mama is good with children. Only her children don’t live here, do they?” Another scene which really makes a valuable point features Sarafina saying: “And if I don’t live to see the day, you better believe it. This is my home and I am home to stay!” If only the director spent more time on showing the injustices of apartheid in such terms, maybe we would have gotten more value out of Sarafina.

I personally also like the moments when Sarafina feels she is surrounded by traitors. There is no one she can trusts as government puppets and informants are everywhere. When she is paranoid and doesn’t know who to trust. It makes me think of my native country of Romania, and my parents who lived through similar times.  I also enjoyed the scenes in which Whoopi Goldberg acts as a history teacher who teaches the African side of the story. Her patience and non-violent approach are rather inspirational. I wish I could say the same about her South African accent which sounds more like the one I hear on the South Side of Chicago than the ones in Soweto. Which I am also familiar with, hence my ability to compare the two.

The movie oversimplifies this apartheid and that only suggests that the director did not know how to explore those uncertain times. We kind of understand that the movie is about Sarafina’s dramatic formation as a young activist who is discovering her political consciousness, but who can be sure of anything in a movie like this?

Mbongeni Ngema and Hugh Masekela do a fantastic job at composing the songs and the music performed in this musical and perhaps it is worth watching Sarafina at least to admire their work.

Directors interested in apartheid, FYI: The next time you want to make a movie about those regrettable years in South Africa’s history, you better know what you want to say first.

Whoopi Goldberg once said: “I went to Africa. I’m an American.” It really seems that this movie took the same perspective on apartheid.

I rate this movie 5/10.

I couldn’t find a movie trailer, but I think you will enjoy the following song just as much. It’s called: Freedom is coming tomorrow which perhaps would have been a much more fit title for the movie:

The State of Denial is a heartbreaking documentary that explores the difficulties HIV-infected South Africans face on a daily basis. And their inspiring struggles. It provides an insider’s view, South African born director Elaine Epstein, into the complicated factors that allow HIV/AIDS to spread at such an alarming speed.

The documentary focuses on what used to be “the greatest impediment to dealing with the epidemic”: former president Thabo Mbeki, one of the most infamous AIDS denialists in the world. Mbeki has been criticized for his beliefs and actions on various occasions and I myself have written about his stand on AIDS from time to time. But State of Denial takes it a step further. Instead of simply blaming him for the devastating effects of his policies, this documentary allows viewers to see and listen to Mbeki personally denying that “a virus can cause a syndrome.” The result is both painful and despicable as, you know what they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.  By alternating shorts declarations of the poker face president with the humanitarian efforts to assist the HIV positive South Africans, and the fight against multinational corporations that refuse to make the ARV medicine more affordable, this movie depicts a much more complicated drama than many of us might have been familiar with.

For many years, Thabo Mbeki and his administration have prohibited or refused to finance the ARV distribution in South Africa being more concerned with the effects of the medicine over the testing subjects than the benefits and the alleviation of pain that the drugs might along. This, some Mbeki supporters argued, was the president’s fight against international companies that use Africa as a testing ground. While I am familiar with the argument, I think AIDS is bigger than ideological battles and that Mbeki could have found different ways of dealing with unlawful Western companies without putting the lives of hundreds of thousands at risk.

By arguing that AIDS is a disease of poverty which cannot be connected solely to a virus, Thabo Mbeki contributed to the general confusion about the disease in South Africa and elsewhere. More than 400,000 people died during this short period of time (only four years) before Thabo Mbeki came to grips with reality. In the process, State of Denial puts a human face on this generic epidemic and, without directly arguing that Thabo Mbeki’s theories are ludicrous, it progressively deconstructs most of his erroneous assumptions. From the slums of Durban and Soweto, to the upper class neighborhoods in Cape Town and Johannesburg, the director interviews various AIDS patients and activists who clearly show that the disease is not only caused by poverty and malnutrition but has more complex causes and consequences. As one MD physician astutely points out at the 2000 International AIDS Conference convened in Durban, South Africa, the president, who gave the opening speech at the conference “presented his views on the AIDS epidemic in the same way: he made no mention on making antiretrovirals available to anyone in the private sectors.” Mike Merson, who some of view might know as the former head of the WHO Global Progress on AIDS division captures the essence of Mbeki’s denialist take on the disease: “a lot of the things he was saying were true. Poverty does drive this epidemic. But this is primarily an epidemic of the sexually transmitted diseases. People have to hear that. ”

The documentary excels at capturing the growing frustration among HIV positive patients. Towards the ends of the movie, the brother of an HIV+ patient dies unexpectedly of the same disease. The burial ceremony causes the family insupportable pain and the remaining brother talks freely about what he felt during those sore times: “For me, it was the most traumatic time in my life because I could see myself in him. You know, he didn’t really have to die as helplessly as he did. And not only him, but thousands and thousands of people are dying unnecessarily. It makes me sick. ”

The documentary also introduces us to Zackie Achmat, a South African AIDS activist who refused to take ARV until they were made available to the general public. As chairman of the Treatment Action Campaign, one of the largest organizations in South Africa who are fighting for the rights of the HIV/AIDS patients in the country, Achmat has fought against ARV producing companies and the state of South Africa and won both battles. The New Yorker once famously called him: “the most important dissident in the country since Nelson Mandela” and in this documentary you get a good idea on why that is the case.

State of Denial is not only important for the striking images that it brings to us. Or the fact that many people are running out of time because of politics and greed. During the closing credits we find out that four of the people interviewed died before the documentary was released, some only within days after sharing their pain with the filmmaker so that we, the general audience, can have something to think about. You have to watch this movie because it makes some broader arguments about the disease which we all should analyze and accept. Elaine Epstein, the filmmaker, suggests that AIDS is perhaps the biggest threat to South Africa since the end of apartheid.  It is not solely the problem of an individual, but a community affair, a disaster that affects each and every one of us. Whereas it is more likely to affect people living in poverty, the disease strikes unexpectedly and we should all be aware of that. The movie broadly suggests that global health care inequalities, economic and political interests and causes that have to be factored in when analyzing the rapid spread of the disease.

I was extremely excited to see my favorite female politician taking a strong stand on HIV/AIDS and criticizing Mbeki for his actions. Patricia de Lille, a prominent South African politician and the leader of the Independent Democrats will later on insist on allowing the judicial system in South Africa to investigate thoroughly the arm deals that involved the current SA president, Jacob Zuma. While under tremendous pressure from other politicians to drop her endeavor, she made an argument which I found inspirational. She argued that she didn’t fight to get rid of apartheid in order to be oppressed and disillusioned under a new political system. She would also adamantly declare that the judicial system should be allowed to run its course and decide whether one is guilty of wrongdoings or not without any political interference in the process. Her initial presumptions capture rather painfully the failure of the South African government under Thabo Mbeki’s leadership. THIS is not what millions of other South Africans fought for either: to be abandoned by their government and die in misery and pain. While the South African government has respected the Supreme Court’s decision that HIV positive patients should be granted access to ARV treatment that was too late for many HIV positive patients. May the death of 400,000 people and counting be a lesson and not simply a statistical fact that politicians and policymakers take lightly.

Some of my South African friends told me that this movie was to their country what Philadelphia was to Americans which I found to be quite an interesting comparison.

This movie is rated 10/10

No Movie Trailer available online.

To me, the most emotional part of the movie is not his return to Kisumu, but his visit to the refugee camp in Chad. He is exposed to terrifying stories about their daily struggles and the lives they are condemned to live. Both Barack and Michele are devastated by what they hear and pledge to take a direct interest in the region. But the Darfur issue, like all the other major themes in this documentary, is treated in rather shallow and superficial terms. The hard questions are never asked and to a great extent Obama seems very cautious not to upset anyone in his travels. Which, in turn, upsets me as a viewer with a ground knowledge of African politics and realities.

I cannot say I didn’t like the movie as a whole but the complete lack of objectivity and impartial narrative line was something I was rather uncomfortable with. Given the fact that I’ve been an Obama supporter from 2006 I didn’t need any convincing that the current president is a great politician, which means that I expected more from this DVD. I didn’t get it. At the end of the 60 minute long documentary, we still don’t know what Obama’s view of African politics is, what his vision for the continent might look like and whether he approves or disproves of how politics is made across Africa or say the least in his father’s native country. He takes an equidistant stand on African current affairs and his speeches are rather broad and definitely not indicative of what his thoughts and views of the continent are.

In some ways, watching this documentary made me think how disappointed I would have felt, if I were an average Kenyan who might have had the chance to meet Obama on this trip. The senator sounds so interested in African politics, in the small businesses or the social issues he addresses and he definitely gives you the feeling that this great American will in fact give his best in trying to enact change in US foreign politics. Everywhere he goes, specifically in Kenya, he is welcome like a local hero, a man who succeeded in his life and is now ready to give back to his community. I’m not saying that Obama is socially or culturally Kenyan, in fact I believe quite the opposite (that he is truly American) but to the people he meets and interacts with, that’s how he looks like.

Obama makes what turned out to be an unfulfilled promise in this documentary. In one of his speeches he promises to try to shape the United States’ policy towards Africa so that the interests of the countries he visits will be addressed to their benefits. Five years later we see that his pledge has yet to be addressed. Perhaps now President Obama is the one who should watch this documentary, as he clearly suggests that the continent might be of great significance to America’s interests which has yet to be seen in US foreign policy.

I rate this documentary 6/10

Movie Trailer

Before going into details about the movie, I would to stress the fact that I saw both the book and the movie as an experiment. The topics conveyed in Disgrace are all too familiar but the ethical solutions and moral path taken are not. When confronted with abnormal situations we tend to judge the options we have based on our moral standards developed according to the societal norms that are applicable where we live. Coetzee invites us to witness significantly different (at least from a Western’s point of view) ethnical perspectives and see how they unfold in real life. The result is sore and unfulfilling for many of us, but it clearly shows that retribution and restoration can take different forms to reach a compromise.

After coercing one of his mixed-race students (Antoinette Engel) to sleep with him, Professor David Lurie (John Malkovich) is fired from University of Cape Town. He takes refuge in Eastern Cape village of Salem, near Grahamstown, where his lesbian daughter Lucy owns a small farm and raises flowers for a local market. She is assisted by African elder man, named Petrus (played by Eriq Ebouaney) who is the de facto manager of the farm.

Running away from his own disgrace, David Lurie is about to be exposed to yet another similar event when her daughter is raped by three young men. He is also a victim of the aggression as he is assaulted, beaten and set on fire. In the aftermath of this terrible incident, Lurie, who escaped with minor injuries, wants to file a report with the police and track down those guilty of this despicable injustice. He is surprised when his daughter (played stunningly by South African actress Jessica Haines) opts for a peaceful reconciliation with one of her rapists. In the process, both Lurie and his daughter are shattered by their own hopelessness as they have to deal with issues which cannot only be solved in the light of their own individuality.

A disillusioned and traumatized Lucy sees her rape in the light of the guilt that she, as a white South African, carries along in the post-apartheid era. She speaks of her perpetrators as “tax collectors” who are claiming their debt back. The rape is, in some ways, at least to her, comparable to the apartheid regime from which she benefited. The rape disrupted her life in a brutal and devastating manner. Her only option is to live with it and no matter where she goes the memory of her rape will stick with her. Perhaps imagining that this is how some black South Africans might have felt under apartheid, she rationalizes her rape by resorting to a similar discourse. She will remain on her farm and try to rebuild her life as a member of the community, even if some of the members of that community are the perpetrators she has to see every day.

This type of reasoning is unacceptable to David Lurie who wants the type of retribution that he sees fit for this situation. However, trapped in his own discourse, he observes no correlation between her daughter’s rape and the indecency that he himself committed. Despite being an intellectual, he fails to note that the relations of power are laid out in such a way that ironically he is both a perpetrator and a victim of the injustice that is so prevalent in contemporary South Africa. As he objects to Lucy’s decision not to pursue justice in her case, his daughter bitterly replies that “”you don’t understand what happened to me that day. Because you can’t.” Her reply is indicative of both the fact that David is trapped in his own cultural determinism from which he makes no attempt to escape and a disruption in the process of communication on behalf of his daughter. In that moment, both David and we, the audience, are being shot out, despite our impulses and desires to become a part of the action and to be involved in the final resolution of this tragic set of events. But neither the movie nor the book allows us to experience what we so much crave for, despite the fact that we eventually get all the pieces of the puzzle together.

In fact, I would go so far as to argue that the solution to the problem will probably satisfy very few of the people watching this movie. There is no retribution or punishment offered in the name of justice, just settlements. These are solutions which are meant to restore a cosmic, allegorical balance on the long term, but pay no attention to the immediate cry for justice. Lucy doesn’t run away and chooses a life of compromise. Despite the fact that he is completely offended by such a settlement, David Lurie eventually does the same. This should not fool the audience into believing that the character underwent any dramatic changes in his personal life. He most likely remained the same patronizing, selfish, arrogant man that he was the beginning of the movie. In fact the scenes in which he uses the services of some of the black prostitutes, after Lucy was raped, are the living proof that David Lurie doesn’t change. At most, we get the feeling that he comes to terms with his self destructive life choices, but there is no sign that this realization will have any constructive follow-up actions on his behalf.

In this movie, the human bestiality is often intertwined with scenes that explore the aggressive and brutal behavior of dogs. The main character uses dogs to attack his black opponents on two occasions, suggesting that David probably thinks that the black people are no better than the animals he is using as defense. Dogs are also used as a side story for a secondary plot in the movie, but I will not go into details. The brutal murder of Lucy’s dogs also begs for the conclusion that human bestiality is no match for the viciousness of humans. Needless to say, the images involving dogs reminded me of one of the most famous movies set in Mexico, Amores Perros, though the symbolism is rather different.

This movie is among the best Western productions about Africa, but we can cynically notice that they had some crucial inside help in the novel written by famous South African writer J.M. Coetzee. From a cinematographical point of view, it is also a notable success as both Australian director Steve Jacobs and screenplay writer Anna Maria Monticelli do justice to the novel that inspired this movie and seek the most pertinent way to tell this dramatic story. In addition, I have to admit that this is the first time I have watched and enjoyed John Malkovich’s performance in a movie. His detached, cold and arrogant demeanor made him the perfect candidate for the role of David Lurie. Jessica Haines, Eriq Ebouaney, Fiona Press, Antoinette Engel, Natalie Becker should also receive credit for their wonderful acting.

Lastly, I would like to comment a little bit on the name of the movie and the book. By the end of the movie, Disgrace can actually be seen as the result of a transition from “grace” to disgrace that deserves further interpretations. Once a prominent professor with little to fear, David Lurie is suddenly the object of post-apartheid laws which no longer favor the white man. In practical terms, this causes his immediate dismissal from the University of Cape Town after he commits an indecency which is, suddenly, punishable. But he remains faithful to his principles and admits to his wrongdoings. This is not necessarily an irrational or naïve act, but a much more convoluted process. David Lurie’s voyeuristic behavior is actually fueled by his refusal to allow his own desires to die. After all, by his own admission and his daughter’s observation, he is 52 years old and getting young women is no longer an easy option. One could then argue that his moral assault on Melanie (Antoinette Engel) can be seen in the light of his decision not to allow his desires to go unfulfilled. Wouldn’t this actually be the biggest disgrace this infatuated, arrogant and angry man could personally feel? Though fairly impassive of the major setback in his professional life cause by his dismissal from university, David falls victim to the post-apartheid contradictions which postdate him. His inability to understand the aggression of the three young men against his daughter or her ability and desire to move on after her terrifying personal drama and trauma stand witnesses of his failure to control and comprehend the new world that he inhabits. Perhaps, the name Disgrace is then chosen as an attempt to cumulatively capture the essence of the post-apartheid contradictions seen cynically as an inability of the “modern” subject to adapt to the new realities. In fact, the ultimate proof of disgrace is the fact that whereas David Lurie undergoes a personal transformation while trying to adapt to the countryside realities his personality ultimately remains unaltered. The context in which he operates has changed dramatically, and he is arguably aware of this shift. However, he finally proves he is incapable of making the transition to a world of decency, equality and humanity and remains stuck into a personal drama which can only bring him more and more disgrace. He is happy to live with that and this is exactly the type of contradiction that we are left with at the end of the movie. I rate Disgrace 10/10.

Most of the documentary was filmed around a waterhole which allowed Jamie Uys to observe and film a wide variety of animals. It was four years in the making. We are being introduced to the daily routines of various creatures such as Meerkat, Kingfisher, Jassana, Carp bream, Cheetah, Ratel, Kudu, the beautiful Secretary Bird, Pelican, Impala, Baboon, Gekko, Warthog and so on. The commentary is laced with both humor and tragedy and makes for a wonderful experience.

In one scene wee see elephants, baboons and other smaller animals eating the fruit of the Marula tree. (Digressing for a second, the marula fruits make one of the best liquors I have ever tried in my life). After eating the fruit most of the animals caught on tape appear to be drunk because the sugars from the fruit quickly ferment in their stomachs. The same happens when some of the animals drink from the waterhole because some the marula fruits fall in the water which results in some animals being intoxicated or even “hangover.” And let’s be honest, who could ever resist seeing a baboon with a hangover?

Here’s the scene I am talking about:

The movie is a great cinematographical accomplishment but so are the musical accompaniment and the sound effects used to spice up the action.

As Janet Maslin notes in a  movie review for The New York Times:

Among Mr. Uys’s more visually striking scenes is one in which a baby wart hog is separated from its mother, and then tries to sidle up to various other prospective parents; it’s so ugly that it winds up with only a tree trunk for company. There is also a lengthy sequence showing what happens when the fruit on a particular kind of tree becomes ripe enough to ferment after falling to the ground, and prompts a festival of gluttony.

This is perhaps the first documentary I have ever seen about Africa as a kid. I love watching it in early 1990s and I enjoyed it even more when I watched it with a couple of friends over the summer. If there is one documentary about Africa that will make your day, it might be this.

I rate it 10/10

The entire movie is up on youtube so if you feel like watching it, you can start right here!

I have watched the movie a couple of time in order to make what I consider to be a fairly neutral analysis of the movie. The first time I was upset with the shallowness of the main character and the distance that the director treats Nelson Mandela with. I felt it trivialized Mandela and at the end of the day it made the process of reconciliation look easier than it were. The second time I was disappointed with the lack of focus, the random songs that kill the inspirational tone of the movie, the fact that Matt Damon does NOT always have the Afrikaans accent he is supposed to, and the lack of originality, meaning and personal satisfaction that the movie is not providing me with.

Clint Eastwood most likely had a great idea but oversold it and oversimplified it. The fact that politics and sports can be beautifully intertwined in one of the most beautiful and allegedly peaceful reconciliation of our time is definitely something worth exploring.  But that powerful feeling, personal joy, and the strength of character never stood a chance to come to light in this movie. In fact, what was supposed to be a series of moments that shaped the history of postcolonial South Africa ended up in pathetic and gloomy series of events which were poorly expressed and sometimes uncalled for. For example, most scenes in which we see Freeman and Damon together are pretty much the same: a shy, almost speechless rugby captain and an old, wise, almost parental figure preaching for unity. That not that much…

Let’s get down to the two major flows in this movie. First, I believe Eastwood took the character of Mandela for granted. He assumed we all knew who he is, what he has done, and what he symbolizes. I’m sure that my readers fall into that category. But many do not.   Simply transplanting Freeman into a post-apartheid South Africa, without giving any historical context for what that meant for the country and at what cost that freedom was won means that the average viewers who know very little about Nelson Mandela will not be able to connect to the character, to cherish him, to see him for what he is. Second, about one third of the movie is made of scenes that involve the rugby game. Without any explanations on how the game is played, what the rules are and what the stakes are, this part of the movie is painfully uninteresting. Part of the reconciliation comes through sport is Eastwood’s thesis here. He explores both sides of the story – he looks at how white South Africans relate to the game and how black South Africans gradually come to embrace it as well. By the end of the movie, they are all cheering when their team wins because they all know the rules and derive meaning and satisfaction of it. But what about me, the viewer? Well, because of the uninspired idea of not exploring the rules of the game, I am left where the black characters in the movie were at the beginning of the movie: at best, ignorant of this whole game, at worst bored and uninterested.

There is a lot more to say about the shortcomings of the movie. In the first part of the movie, we see that the newly-elected sports federation members want to dismantle the team, re-name it and get away of some of the white players. They talk about this and accept the resolution in unanimity. Then Mandela comes in and makes them reconsider. We get the feeling that rugby and Springboks are hated but we aren’t explicitly told why. Is it just because the team is almost entirely made of whites? Did the team ever do anything to the black South Africans? Were they a part of the oppression? The best explanation I came up with was that the institutionalized violence which is allowed on the rugby field has historically been associated by many black South Africans with the injustice, violence and the crude force used against them by a similar institutionalized system called apartheid. But if I didn’t know that, the question I would have on my mind would be: what’s the whole fuss about this game and this team? Where does the reconciliation come from? Why not a movie about soccer or any other game that is surely more popular in South Africa than rugby?

I talked most about the shortcomings because I’ve waited for this movie for so long and I’ve been so disappointed. Let me know point towards some of the accomplishments of Invictus. If you watch the movie carefully you will see how great Morgan Freeman is in this role and if there’s any justice he will win an Oscar for it even if the movie as a whole is not much of a success. Freeman perfectly captures the demeanor, the soft-spoken authority, the walk and the allure of President Mandela. He gets all that down to perfection. But the accent itself is so off track from the Xlosa accent that it might make some South Africans  really uncomfortable watching the movie. Getting back to good parts about this movie, some of the scenes in which the newly appointed white guards are clashing with those who thought will be the sole bodyguards of president Mandela suggest the contradictory nature and the anxieties experienced by both sides in the immediate years after apartheid was overthrown. The same applies to the frictions that some of the secondary white and black characters experience. They might not be the most representative examples of these contradictions, but they are better than nothing. We are also being taken to some of the local townships were we are allowed to take a shot at some of the local South Africans. To me, this points to the predatory nature of the movie which is profoundly resilient on the idea of consumption of otherness.  However, these scenes might actually be the only ones suggesting that South Africa actually was and is a rainbow nation.

At the end, I am left with a bitter taste: so much talent, so many opportunities and good ideas, yet such a poor result.

I rate the movie 6/10.

Movie trailer:

Directors Angus Gibson and Jo Manell interviewed the then President Mandela extensively, traveled with him to various locations that are of great importance to him, and were allowed access to his house and family. His declarations, all full of meaning, wisdom and forgiveness are comforting and inspiring.

The documentary covers the most important events in Nelson Mandela’s life: his birth, his family (he was one of the nine children born to his father’s four wives,) his 16th birthday circumcision ritual (which is one of the most dramatic scenes,) his arrival to Johannesburg, his arrest, the years spent on Robben Island, and his release from prison. The last part of the movie is dedicated to the actions he took starting immediately after the apartheid was overturned until he was inaugurated as president. It ends with a discrete meditation on death, what Mandela calls “the sleep of eternity,” which suggests that the man is satisfied with his passage through life. As he should!

This is a chronological journey through some of the most important events in both Mandela’s life and South Africa’s transition to democracy. It is emotional, frustrating, dramatic and, to a particular extend, rewarding. It is the necessary type of historical documentary that is a valuable asset to the South African Archive which we and our children and their children afterwards can watch in order to understand the complex recent history of South Africa. And the people who made it possible.

I would have much preferred if the directors turned a critical eye to both Mandela’s failed marriages and his rather tumultuous relationship with various world leaders and foreign powers. I would have also liked to see more of his social platforms, campaigns and his plans as president of the Republic of South Africa. If the directors had asked these questions we would have been able now to analyze whether Nelson Mandela was in fact a great politician. Leaving those aspects aside, we are forced to fill up the gaps which can be both an advantage and a disadvantage. We are used to analyzing Mandela based on emotions, sentimental attachment to this great man and the fact that he had the power to forgive the ones who simply tried to destroy him. But it would have been more helpful if we had the chance to look into his politics and his social reforms. The fact that the directors missed that is indeed something regrettable.

Despite these obvious shortcomings, Mandela is a documentary worth watching. Official or not, critical or not, it is great piece of art and a historical lesson fairly well covered.

I rate this documentary 10/10

Watch the trailer here:

The documentary is based on a fact known by few people “Since 1994, the number of South Africans living on less than $1 dollar a day has doubled.” Implicitly, the documentary suggests that these people have yet to be heard. From the heart of the slums in Durban come a series of powerful, dramatic but lucid testimonies that will make the audience uncomfortable.

And yet, their voices need to be heard. As one 16 year old girl states “Now it’s the democratic era and they’re still demolishing. So from my perspective, there’s no democracy for the poor.” Another community leader points to the core of the problem: “There’s a new Apartheid in South Africa between the rich and the poor.” And unfortunately, few are paying attention to it.

The documentary fails to provide the context under which these silent tragedies are occurring so an uninformed viewer will have trouble understanding the complexity of the situation. In addition, the local authorities’ point of view on the matter is not pursued. Despite these shortcomings, “Dear Mandela” explores what seems to be “the other side of silence.” Real people, real problems, real everyday struggles.

Watch the documentary right here and let me know what you think about it!