For all that the devil cares

Marxist wisdom states that man is essentially a working animal, yet man is only free when he is not chained to labor. This tenet may be put in question if one considers man's own volition - that is, if he voluntarily submits to work due to economic needs, etc. But what if man's employment is totally against his will, something that happened with absolute trampling of his freedom and rights? Then such wisdom may only gain stronger grounds. Among the many forms of such "involuntary" labor, we may cite as a primary example "slavery", particularly the kind that occurred in the American states during the 19th century. And such is the subject of Steve McQueen's "12 Years a Slave".

Coming from the guy who made such stark and downbeat dramas as "Hunger" and "Shame", his latest is likewise not an uplifting film, the kind that trumpets the nobility and fortitude of the black slaves and offers an easy way out of their cruel fate. The film, as it is, is as harsh as it can be. Based on an autobiographical book by Solomon Northup (who was referred throughout the film by his white masters as "Platt") published in late 19th century, the film takes an unflinching look at how totally inhuman the slave trade is and how the masters treat their slaves (their "property") as no more than brutes. John Ridley's screen adaptation of the book has, for the good part of it, no shades of gray:the slave owners are as devilish as they can be, capable of subjecting their "properties" to the most cruel humiliation and punishment at the snap of a finger;while the slaves are as defenseless and docile as they are, as if reluctantly resigned to their fate, the most visible form of protest that they can possibly do is to whimper. Sometimes, while watching the film, I couldn't help but make a filmic analogy:If the Jews are to "Schindler's List", then the Niggers (the film's words) are to "12 Years a Slave". Such is the gravity of the condition that the plantation could have been a concentration camp as well, that the whip could take a life as much as a gun.

Such a black-and-white treatment (pardon the pun) has one inevitable major drawback:that it can slide down to excessive exhortation and shameless sentimentality. Steven Spielberg's Oscar-winning epic, earnest its intentions may be, geared towards that (don't get me wrong:the film hit me at some points). "12 Years a Slave" (which, by the way, has just recently won an Oscar) could have been just like that. Thankfully, McQueen, even if he has an eye for graphic imagery and a feel for volatile emotions (as shown in his first two films), never allows himself to go overboard. The film has some of the most riveting conversation pieces, money shots, aural aesthetics and mise-en-scene that one will ever see on the big screen, and yet the director executes them in such a way that while one is no doubt ravaged by what is shown, he/she strangely feels to be at an arm's length still from the proceedings. It's like you want to cry out loud but there's just something that chokes. Witness the set-piece where Solomon (Chiwetel Ejiofor in a finely-contained portrayal) is mercilessly hanged from a tree. Or the one in the final act where one of the slaves, Patsy (the heartbreaking Lupita Nyong'o), is meted a brutal lashing both by Epps (the abhorrent Michael Fassbender, McQueen's muse) and Solomon. The emotional dynamics and technical virtuosity of the mise-en-scene just beg for description.

At one point, we were simply perplexed by an uncanny few-minute close-up of Solomon's sad and non-defiant face, seems to be begging for help and mercy while asking us to stand back. If the film had froze at that point, there could have been another homage to the final frame in Francois Truffaut's "The 400 Blows".

By now, it's already common knowledge that the Academy's choice of Best Picture over the years is just beyond comprehension, for the most part regarded with a grain of salt. But during those rare moments that they hit the bull's eye, it's like, as one film critic eloquently put it, a gift of wisdom from above. Though my heart still goes for Alexander Payne's richly-humanist "Nebraska", "12 Years a Slave" might just be another instance of such wisdom.

They who are chained to their labor in ''12 Years a Slave''