Review of Amistad (1997) by Jaime D — 03 Aug 2008

A crash of thunder and a bolt of lightning rip through a tyrannous storm; the battering, tempestuous waves hurl themselves at the bulk of a ship while, below deck, a man is stirring. He toils through blood and sweat to rip himself from his chains in utter darkness, knowing his next step will make him a murderer. All in the name of freedom.

That opening scene, the first twenty minutes of 'Amistad' - possibly Steven Spielberg's most underappreciated film - are the director on top form. It is Spielberg at his greatest. 'Amistad' struggles to maintain perfection, but fortunately it reaches greatness again, several times. It is not a perfect film, but it is not such a long way off either.

On paper, 'Amistad' is something of a courtroom drama, but in essence it tells the story of the slaves of Spanish trade-ship, La Amistad, a story about men who are forced to kill so they can see their families again, a story about hope and, not to diminish its importance through stressed repetition, but yes - freedom.

Of course, before the film begins it is a given the audience already understand that slavery is wrong. But the screenplay aims to salute the men who want to overcome such a powerful force of a mighty country, and expose the true nature of a term so easily thrown about casual conversation. The story is about the slaves fight for freedom just as it is a testament to the good-natured men who cannot stand aside and do nothing.

At its best, 'Amistad' is a stirring, brutal and painful film. Djimon Hounsou's incredibly soulful performance as an illegal slave deserves much recognition, as does Anthony Hopkins smaller turn as ex-president turned attorney John Quincy Adams. Both are given moments of brilliance in the script; Hounsou's recount of how he became a slave is one of the most harrowing and distressing film sequences I have seen, and it is an example of superlative direction. And quite surprisingly, it turns out Matthew McConaughey can actually act.

Cinematography and music are two of the film's technical standouts, all of which deserve merit, but as I said 'Amistad' is not without its flaws. Too many scenes are awash with Spielberg's trademark sentimentality, and Morgan Freeman's character isn't woven so neatly into the script. He is disappointingly underused.

Still, a mediocre Spielberg offering is usually better than most films out there, and 'Amistad' is a powerful and strong-willed picture. For those who call it simplistic, naive and one-dimensional misread the films intentions to merely inspire, and acknowledge hope is not such an immature and regretful thing.