BIG SCREEN: 12 Years A Slave Revieux (Rated R)

It’s always chancy to read the book before seeing the movie that’s based on it. Way too often the book is a thousand times better, so the movie suffers in comparison. But I threw caution to the wind and read Twelve Years a Slave by Solomon Northup prior to the screening, with mixed results.

First of all, I really, really, really think the book should become required reading for high school kids. The perspective on slavery – and lesson in humanity -- is truly like no other. It’s written by an African-American man who was born a free man in 19^th century New York state. He enjoyed a pleasant, comfortable life with a wife, family, home, education, and respect from his racially mixed community. While he was certainly aware of the institution of slavery in the South, he was far removed from its terrifying reality – just like those of us who have only read about it in text books. So, when he describes being kidnapped, sold into slavery, and forced to endure all the ensuing horrors and hardships, the reader is able to identify with him, and experience the utter shock and hopelessness right along with him.

The movie -- which stars a perfectly cast Chiwetel Ejiofor as Solomon and was shot in and around New Orleans -- remains quite faithful to the plot and overall tone of the book, eschewing unnecessary dramatic elements, and sticking with a very realistic and stark portrayal of his journey.  Both the book and the movie are surprisingly even-handed in the portrayal of the very ugliest aspects of slavery, as well as the slightly less brutal side – which is, at best, depraved indifference, as opposed to outright depravity. In the movie, Michael Fassbender turns in a MASTERFUL performance as Edwin Epps, the heartless slave owner who terrorizes Solomon for ten of his twelve years in captivity. On the other end of the spectrum, Benedict Cumberbatch plays Master Ford, a much more sympathetic man, who is obviously conflicted by slavery, though still a very willing participant. (Brad Pitt, one of the producers, *somehow* managed to land the pivotal role of the film's ultimate good guy. Which is fine, I guess. I mean, he was the boss and all, but his presence is sort of random and disruptive, if you ask me.) 

One of the benefits of having read the book is the slight advantage of knowing what’s coming. Not that it’s easier to see the nightmares and heartbreaks play out on screen, but having already experienced them in written form allowed me to sort of steel myself a bit more when I knew tough, tough scenes were coming. But they are, indeed, still very tough to watch.

Anyone who hasn’t read the book will probably be completely unaware of what I consider to be a really important missed opportunity in the movie. What makes the book so powerful is Solomon’s voice. His eloquence, gentle insight, and even his incredibly detailed understanding of the mechanics of running plantations and their mills, creates more depth of character, and it establishes a respectful intimacy with the reader. So, why in the world didn’t the movie use a little voice over narration to replicate a little of that intimacy and point of view? I think it would’ve elevated a very good movie to a GREAT one. But, they didn’t ask me, so there ya go.

Overall, I highly recommend 12 Years a Slave. Phenomenal cast, haunting locations, and some pretty devastating directing. It's truly astounding to know you're basically watching reenactments of real events that happened to, and because of, real people. The movie may be a bit too brutal for younger teens, but the book is a must.

12 Years a Slave is now playing in theaters. For local theaters and showtimes, please go here.

BIG SCREEN: A Dangerous Method

Ever found an amazing recipe that seemed like a slam dunk? You buy all the best ingredients – the freshest herbs, the choicest cuts of meat, the finest wine to pair with it – but it just results in… meh?

That’s sorta how I felt about A Dangerous Method.

So, the story… it gives us a glimpse into the volatile relationship between psychological pioneers Carl Jung (Michael Fassbender) and Sigmund Freud (Viggo Mortensen), which developed in the years leading up to World War I in Zurich and Austria. Along comes a really, really disturbed patient named Sabina Spielrein (Keira Knightley), who becomes one of the first female psychoanalysts, but only after drawing her doctor, Jung, into a sexual relationship that completely screws up his sensibilities and further complicates his relationship with Freud.

According to the official studio synopsis: “Sensuality, ambition and deceit set the scene for the pivotal moment when Jung, Freud and Sabina come together and split apart, forever changing the face of modern thought.”

Sounds titillating and thought-provoking and fascinating, no?

Knightly’s performance is certainly adequately disturbing and extreme, but everyone else gets lost in (I’m guessing) an attempt to remain overly understated, stifled, restrained. A tension-building technique? Snore.

Mortensen’s, well, Freudian relationship with his ubiquitous cigar is pretty much the most notable part of his performance. And I kept waiting for Fassbender to explode or implode or pretty much do anything not subdued.

Not their faults, though. A so-so script and dull direction at the hands of festival darling David Cronenberg (Crash, History of Violence) are to blame, says me. Give me new insight into Freud and Jung… illustrate how revolutionary their concepts were for their time… make me believe in or become excited by any one of these relationships! But, alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

Sadly, with all the fabulous ingredients -- great actors and cool subject matter and costumes and such – it comes up rather bland. Lukewarm. Needed salt. And maybe a shot of Tabasco.