Masters of Their Fate : The Shadow Cabaret

Masters of Their Fate

Since he shifted his career into virtually full-time directing, Clint Eastwood has never told the same story twice. Think back on the experience of viewing Unforgiven, Mystic River, Flags of Our Fathers and Changeling, among a startling number of others, and the only common thread you’ll find is a consistent level of quiet excellence.

His latest, Invictus, is as intelligently scripted, beautifully produced and impeccably acted as anything he’s done before, a smart and accessible drama for grownups.

Leading that impeccable cast is Morgan Freeman, an actor whose screen persona consistently projects an integrity comparable with that of Eastwood’s directorial voice. Here Freeman brings his tremendous humanity to the role of real-life icon Nelson Mandela, who we meet during the challenging days of his first term as South Africa’s president.

Faced with the seemingly impossible task of uniting a populace that’s been divided for generations by the toxic policy of apartheid, Mandela early on raises the hackles of his own supporters by refusing to disenfranchise the white Afrikaners who had made their lives hell. Casting about for a symbol to bring blacks and whites together, he seizes on the idea of making a bid for the 1995 Rugby World Cup championship.

It’s a forlorn hope, to say the least – the national team, the Springboks, is a joke. Though it has talented players on the roster, it’s become the gang that couldn’t kick straight…and it’s identified in the minds of the black citizens as the team of the Afrikaners. Rather than throw them out and build a new team that would gain favor with his own constituency, Mandela gambles on finding a way to inspire the Springboks to become a team that will capture the imagination of both sides of his divided country.

Matt Damon plays team captain Francois Pienaar, a part that at first seems curiously slight for such a charismatic actor. He’s obviously trained hard to look like a rugby player, and his Afrikaner accent is understated and believable (far more than the vocal trainwreck engineered by Leonardo DiCaprio in the 2006 Blood Diamond) – but in terms of acting challenges, Damon seems notably overqualified for the role. As the film progresses, however, he comes into focus as a decent young man whose dedication to the game has kept him largely apolitical. While his friends and family vent their apprehension over the new order, he responds to Mandela’s challenge to inspire the team – and the nation as a whole – to transcend race and politics and forge the Springboks into a source of national pride.

With this setup, Invictus could have degenerated into a monumentally stupid movie of the week. Eastwood and screenwriter Anthony Peckham (adapting the book Playing the Enemy: Nelson Mandela and The Game That Made a Nation by John Carlin) have largely avoided that by constantly reminding us that Mandela is up to his ears in political problems and international negotiations all the time the Springboks are grunting and sweating on the pitch (rugby-ese for “playing field”). He’s hoping the team will provide a shot in the arm to his country’s morale, but rugby is hardly the only – let alone the most important – thing he has on his plate.

Most Americans are unfamiliar with rugby, and Eastwood’s staging of various matches will undoubtedly be an eye-opener; it’s a hard-charging, bone-crushing sport, but an exciting one to watch. It’s no surprise that the film climaxes with the final World Cup match, in which South Africa’s equivalent of the Chicago Cubs takes on the toughest and most successful team in the world, the New Zealand All Blacks. The outcome, of course, is a matter of history – but the film manages to keep us in suspense nonetheless by reminding us of the high stakes not only for the Springboks, but for Mandela and the nation itself.

Invictus is an unabashed feel-good movie, very likely the most blatant crowd pleaser Eastwood has ever given us. But, given a gorgeously-produced film that combines the stand-up-and-cheer excitement of the sports arena with a celebration of universal brotherhood, what’s not to feel good about?