By Peter Maddern
Being black and free in the north before the US Civil War did not necessarily mean you lived without fear of persecution for there was money to be made by selling salves to the south whether out of Africa or from New England. Living in Saratoga, NY, well off, Solomon Northup (Chiwetel Ejiofor ) was one, who when caught off his guard by two supposed circus men, found himself in the deep south, an isolated slave with a new name, horse traded between his owners as their circumstances suited and forced bit by bit to give up what he was in order to survive.
Directed by Steve McQueen (Hunger and Shame), 12 Years A Slave takes us through that story until fate would have him returned home. It is a searing inspection of the slave’s world; the hard toil, the abuse, the randomness of death and the cowardice of those who could have done more to stop it.
Chiwetel Ejiofor delivers an Oscar winning performance, taking us the through the full gamut of emotions. His performance alone is worth the price of admission. Michael Fassbender is the plantation owner reeking of evil that ultimately sickens you with his appearance. McQueen’s direction is confident and assured. This film certainly can’t be criticised for going light on impact with some of the flogging and other scenes making one wince and literally feel sick. He are also produces some nice flourishes seen through the editing, particularly the long holds on characters that precede any action or dialogue.
While, there is no doubt the original book makes great source material, just whether we need another Award candidate based around slavery (last year Lincoln) is debatable. There is for all the force of the tale some sense of de javu about it all.
For the US history buff and those looking for a powerful tale and not for the faint hearted but truly dramatic cinema going in the current era where such events are few and far between.
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