Invictus (Clint Eastwood, 2010)

A true sports story trys its best (spot the pun)

Clint Eastwood is a real man’s man. He won the west in Sergio Leoni’s spaghetti westerns, cleaned up the streets as Dirty Harry and even helped the Asian family next door sort out the local drug gang as a pensioner in Gran Torino. The latter, which came out in 2008 was directed by Eastwood himself. As he has matured he has become more known for his efforts behind the camera and is easily one of the most critically acclaimed directors around. His last seven films have all been recognised at the Oscars and two of his films (Unforgiven and the fantastic Million Dollar Baby) won best picture and best director at the Academy Awards.

Just like his tough on screen persona, his directional style is distinctly masculine. Unlike many contemporary film makers who rely on quick edits and tricksy camera shots to add style to very little substance (I’m looking at you Michal Bay) Eastwood’s directional style is simple, objective and to the point. He relies on good story telling to enrapture his audiences and has a flair for picking fantastic scripts. It is to great disappointment then that Invictus is a departure from his usual talent. A man as amazing as Nelson Mandela should provide more than enough substance for Eastwood to display his seemingly effortless skill, but what he has produced here is nothing more than a fairly good sports movie.

The film is based on the amazing true story of the South African Rugby teams’ efforts to win the world cup in 1995. Mandela, going against the advice of his administration, uses the team as a chance to unite the violently divided whites and blacks in the country. It works.

A short synopsis but that is the basis of the film. Underneath the simple sports story are several simmering areas that could have been explored, but they are all pushed aside in order to focus on the Rugby. Nelson’s time in prison and his turbulent family life are referenced but never truly investigated; the violent racial divide provides a backdrop to give the matches more substance but nothing more.

The film has attracted the most attention from the press due to its performances. Both Matt Damon and Morgan Freeman have received Oscar nominations for their performances, but I left wondering why. It has always been a dream of Freeman’s to play Mandela and who can blame him for wanting to step in the shoes of one of the most inspiring men on the planet. However, the Mandela seen in this film is frustratingly lacking in personality. Every time he utters a sentence it feels like he is making a speech to the nation, even if he is just requesting tea from his assistant. He speaks in metaphors and inspirational lexicon; clearly Eastwood wanted to motivate his audience through Mandela’s knowledge and beliefs but in doing this he sets up a barrier that never lets us see him as a person. He becomes a symbolic figure, impressive but never involving; even when doing the simplest tasks he seems to be spouting poetry. Due to this choice in scripting, Freemans apt performance is overwhelmed by speech after speech, he gets no opportunity to show much emotion.

The closest I came to empathising with him was when he received news that his daughter wasn’t coming to see him and he for one moment he shows anguish and hurt. Freeman chooses to simply glance down to the floor to show his hurt but this says more about the man he truly is than his lengthy prose ever could. For a man has spent half of his life in prison this quick reveal of some of the hurt within him was to fleeting.

Matt Damon’s performance as South Africa’s team captain Francois Pienaar is slightly more filled out. We see more about his family life, his motivations and most importantly his personality. He makes a convincing South African rugby player which for someone better known as Jason Bourne is impressive.

Enough about performances though, a sports movie must make its sport exciting. Rugby is an unusual choice; it lacks the last minute ticking clock action of American Football, and the stop/start plays which allows constant motivational speeches. Eastwood convincingly manages to squeeze both of these clichés into the matches. The camera is placed firmly at pitch level; he gets the viewer fully involved in each pass as muddy turf and boot studs fly towards the camera. Eastwood, for the most straight shooting manly director around, needed to inject a little more testosterone into his shooting style. He relies too much on slow motion, which is effective used sparingly but detracts from the violence and speed of the game. He fails to really show the weight and aggression being thrown around on the field. None the less, the build up to the World Cup final is well done, exciting, moving and had me twitching in excitement.

If you want to see a film that deals with race issues in South Africa, then see the sci-fi District 9. What Eastwood does is capture the significance of sport. More than entertainment or a distraction, it is powerful force that can capture the attention of the World and unite people of all backgrounds. This may sound like a cliché in itself, but Eastwood makes a convincing case for its potential. In focusing purely on this message, he overlooks the more important issues that surround Mandela. That film is still to be made, and while I’m sure Eastwood and Freeman could do this better than anyone else, they came up short this time.