Invictus (2009)

It should come as no surprise that Clint Eastwood would direct a movie about Nelson Mandela. He’s addressed issues of racial tolerance and understanding before, in films such as Letters From Iwo Jima and Gran Torino. His Oscar-winning western, Unforgiven, is notable for the absence of racism directed at Morgan Freeman’s character Ned — even when being tortured by the sadistic sheriff — and without comments about a black man cohabitating with a Native American woman. All very progressive films in that regard.

What’s surprising is how dull and uninspiring Invictus, Eastwood’s latest foray into the subject, turns out to be. Freeman is a natural fit for the role of Mandela, not just because of his obvious talents and resemblance to the man, but also because his two previous films with Eastwood both resulted in numerous accolades. He’ll certainly receive further nominations and awards for this high-profile performance, but his work is diminished by a pedantic script that ultimately tells us next to nothing about the man, or anything else.

Invictus begins in February of 1991, when Nelson Mandela is released from prison after nearly 30 years. A montage of news footage, with Freeman skillfully edited in, brings us to the day Mandela takes office as President of South Africa. Apartheid has supposedly been erased, but there is much lingering distrust on both sides of the racial coin. Mandela’s armed bodyguards are nervous about everything and everyone they see. As the new President enters his governmental offices for the first time, the white workers from predecessor De Klerk’s regime are packing up their belongings and avoiding eye contact except with other whites. Mandela assures them he needs all who are willing to stay, both white and black, to bring the nation together into a new era of peace and prosperity. He even makes his bodyguards work together with white security agents — some of the same men who once threw Mandela and his supporters into prison.

Mandela soon realizes there are many hearts and minds resistant to change when he attends a match with South Africa’s national rugby team, the green and gold Springboks, and notices that the black people in the stands are all cheering for England, the opposing team. Mandela knows that feeling of “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” all too well, for he and his fellow inmates did the same thing when watching rugby on TV in prison. We even see a poor black child turn away from a free green and gold jersey, in fear he will be beaten by other children.

The Rugby World Cup is to be held in South Africa in 1995, about a year away, and the host nation gets an automatic berth into the tournament. But the Springboks are in shambles on the field, despite the best efforts of their team captain Francois Pienaar (Matt Damon). The African National Congress wants to rename the team and change their colors, but Mandela intervenes, noting that to dismantle such traditions would enrage whites and make their worst fears of black rule seem a reality. Instead, he invites Pienaar to tea and exhorts him to lead his team by example and drive them as hard as he can to succeed.

That proves an uphill battle for Pienaar, as his teammates refuse even to learn the new national anthem, and Pienaar’s father is a crusty Afrikaaner (with a black maid he virtually ignores) convinced their nation will go the way of Mozambique and Zimbabwe. Pienaar takes the Boks on a surprise road trip to a poor black township, and though his white teammates are initially skittish, the kids playing rugby in a dirt field are thrilled to see Chester Williams, the only black player on the team, who becomes a national hero on his own. Pienaar further inspires himself and his team with a boat trip to Robben Island, where they see Mandela’s tiny prison cell.

These trips spur the team on to excel in the World Cup tournament, and this is when the film devolves into the typical clichéd sports movie — struggling team gets a shot of firebrand leadership, starts improving, becomes popular with fans, then has a worrisome setback, but gets through it, all leading up to The Big Game, shown from every angle and in every detail, with way too much slow motion. (Even the crowd reactions are in slow motion, making this long and boring movie even longer.) It’s bad enough that this supposedly inspirational story lacks creative inspiration in its telling, but it also tells us virtually nothing about Mandela or any other characters. All we really learn about the lead character is that he was once in prison, then he was released and became President, he’s estranged from his wife and daughter, and he likes watching rugby. As for Pienaar, all we know is that he’s buff, has a hot girlfriend, and is subject to bruising.

Much lip service is paid to “inspiration” in this film, particularly with the numerous references to a poem titled “Invictus” that inspired Mandela behind bars, and which he passes on to Pienaar. But there isn’t much inspiration evident in the workmanlike direction of Clint Eastwood. Many scenes are awkwardly staged, repetitive, or outright pointless, and this is even more problematic within a film about a relatively unfamiliar sport in the United States and within a heavily accented foreign culture. (Even District 9, for all its faults, was better at cross-cultural South African communication than this.) Eastwood employs cloying music, oddly inserted and edited moments that prove irrelevant, and, sadly, very little character development. Considering how brilliant and admirable Eastwood’s films have generally been in the last two decades, Invictus is a major disappointment, unless you’re a rugby fan.

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