I did not see 12 Years a Slave when first released because life just got in the way. I usually jump on flicks during opening weekend, but I just couldn't get to the theater. It was not a case of not wanting to see it -- I knew I HAD to see it. Because I didn't view it right away, my writing about it also got lost in the holiday shuffle. But I was actually shocked to hear people in my acquaintance declaring that they would never see it, because they did not want to become angry. (Ditto on The Butler, which I also recommend.) At some point the refusal to view the film and the potential threat -- "don't make me angry!" -- among folks approached competitive proportions, with refuseniks seeking some kind of badge of honor for who can harbor the most racial outrage.
On one level, I understand that seeing a visual interpretation of the horrors and injustice our ancestors endured (or perpetrated) during slavery is difficult to deal with. There is no question that the institution of slavery and subsequent years of racial bigotry and discrimination are all things to be furious about. But on another level, I think the choice not to see 12 Years A Slave is shortsighted, a bit immature, and ultimately self-defeating.
This movie is powerful, spellbinding, heartbreaking, and horrifying, but it is also beautifully shot and beautifully told. It is about one man's victory. Yes. Solomon Northup is born free, and after enduring 12 brutal years in slavery, is returned to freedom. He survives to tell the tale, to bear public witness to the raw day-to-day realities and practices of a system that many whites -- and blacks -- would like to see swept under the rug and forgotten. At a time when it was illegal for slaves to read or write, Solomon -- like Frederick Douglass, Harriet Tubman, Olaudah Equiano and others -- created a slave narrative (published in 1853) that was a powerful tool in the swelling American abolitionist movement leading up to the Civil War. Yes, he left behind hundreds of thousands of fellow slaves when he was rescued by a white attorney of his acquaintance, but he could have returned to his old life and never sought to share what he saw through his best-selling book.
12 Years A Slave the movie is affecting, because the "peculiar institution" of slavery is made all the more chilling and dehumanizing seen through the eyes of Solomon, a freeborn, educated man of color who had a family, a home, and career. While the southern states brutalized Africans in servitude, Solomon's insulated life in upstate New York is not touched by the experience of slavery until he himself is cruelly kidnapped by unscrupulous slave traders and shipped off to Louisiana. The film is also powerful in the way it contrasts the debauchery and inhumanity of slavery with the sheer beauty of a young country. It's that irony that further shakes us: this happened in the "O beautiful for spacious skies" America, the America of liberty, of rolling green hills and rich foliage, gorgeous sunsets, mighty rivers, idyllic glens, soaring flocks of birds and the sweet night music of frogs and insects -- continually sullied by human atrocities. Amid so much sylvan beauty, there is blood on the leaves.
As such, 12 Years A Slave does not shrink away from the material. (Armond White of CityPages called it "torture porn.") There are insults, lies, taunts, vicious whippings, bloody beatings, violent rapes, betrayals, the stripping away of family units, clothing, and all semblance of dignity or humanity. There is near-starvation, sleep deprivation, back breaking labor, amd the loss of hope. These towering injustices have been depicted on screen many times before, but perhaps not in such agonizing detail; Ejiofor's expressive eyes and dignified presence drive home his disgust, dismay, and despair. Lupita Nyong'o's portrayal of a young woman who bears the brunt of Missy's ire and Massa's desire will tear your heart out. At the same time, it's not a perfect film, nor can it begin to approach what slavery must really have been like.
Yes, all of this is tough going. But you must see it. It is a measure of truth. One version of what indeed happened to our country. If we refuse to look because it disquiets us, we contribute to the kind of cultural amnesia that creates a climate for these atrocities to happen again. We contribute to a national sleep of collective ignorance from which some factions hope we never wake.
As to anger: Get angry. Fine. Art is supposed to evoke emotion. But we are no longer children who cannot control our emotional responses, we are thinking adults. We can talk about our history. We can channel our righteous anger into good works, into fighting for the continued rights of oppressed peoples, and into crusades to free people who are enslaved everywhere.
Further, we must support artists of color like director Steve McQueen, whose commitment to bringing this film to the screen is an act of courage as well as creativity. The actors -- both black and white -- must be applauded for their daring and fortitude. If we don't support films like 12 Years A Slave, which keep our stories alive, they won't get made.
Finally, I don't understand how 12 Years A Slave -- a finely crafted film of historical significance in all senses of the phrase -- makes people angry, while a whole series of films where a black man dons a wig and a dress, waves a gun, and drops ghetto malapropisms that keep harmful stereotypes alive and well doesn't make anybody remotely pissed. (Not mad at brother Perry, who has provided creative jobs for a whole bunch of people.) Let's keep things in proper perspective.
As others have noted: Some of our ancestors survived way more than 12 years in slavery; you can surely survive 120 minutes of a film depiction.
If you missed your chance to see 12 Years in theaters, it will be available soon enough on DVD. Please open your eyes to it.
