Intelligent, Impeccable, Illuminating Invictus

Invictus: a) Latin for unconquered, invincible; b) A poem written by William Ernest Henley; c) A 2009 film starring Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon that chronicles the 1995 Rugby World Cup in South Africa during Nelson Mandela’s first term as President; d) The best money you’ll spend at the movie theater all year [see c].

I am the master of my fate

I am the captain of my soul

These are the final lines from the poem, Invictus, that echo at the conclusion of its namesake film. They are also the words that kept Mandela going through his 30 year stint in prison during apartheid. Inspiring and moving as the poem is alone, the beautiful aesthetics and impressive dramatic performances remixed with real events and authentic footage allow the movie to shine. I would argue that Invictus is the non-fiction Slumdog Millionaire of 2009.

The film’s international perspective is eye-opening, and it’s hard to imagine an audience that wouldn’t be hooked by the first scene–an opening that portrays a country divided by hate. As the white South African rugby team–the Springboks–practices on one side of the street, and young black South Africans play on the field opposite the road. Mandela’s motorcade drives through the divisive pavement, one groups flocks to the fence, cheering for the newly released and soon-to-be elected President; the other side merely looks over their shoulder in scorn. This scene sets the stage for the movie’s conflict and the characters’ abilities to persist through it all.

The plot itself is quite easy to follow. Mandela, fresh into his first term as President, sees the ‘95 Rugby World Cup as a chance to unify his apartheid-wrought nation. A primarily white team, most of the country refuses to sport their green and gold gear. Yet Mandela recruits Francois Pienaar–the Springboks’ captain (wonderfully played by Matt Damon)–and utilizes their Bad News Bears-esque rise to the top to spark the peace process.

The film’s best attribute (a real-life mastermind of Mandela himself) is its use of rugby–a sport renowned for its violence–as a framework for peace and reconciliation. This seems odd initially, but the true congruence of rugby and post-apartheid South Africa, we soon learn, is severe pain: as necks snap on the field, hearts break off of it. No one is exempt from the nation’s previous racism: Mandela’s bodyguards, his family, even the parents of Pienaar. Perhaps these feelings are best summarized by Mandela’s daughter, Zindzi (Bonnie Henna), who criticizes her father for appearing in a photograph with whites: these men are identical to the ones who forced us from our home, the ones who put you in jail, she tells him in a powerfully provocative moment.

Freeman’s performance of Mandela’s true good-heartedness is so dead-on it almost hurts. As he steps onto the rugby field, booed by the primarily white fans, he merely waves and smiles. When he receives his paycheck, he donates 1/3 to charity, saying it is excessive for his needs. He memorizes every name of the team members from the Springboks–even though half of them do not support him. Maybe he knows that, just like the audience, they will soon fall in love with his kind heart. Still, Freeman’s character is not without flaws, struggling to maintain a relationship with his family who cannot see why he chooses to forgive those who once tried to kill him. This is perhaps one of Freeman’s best performances since Shawshank Redemption–though, really, all of his movies have been astounding. Still, it’s no wonder he was hand-picked for the role by Nelson himself: he is able to effectively display the confidences and anxieties Mandela carried with a single look and does so, often throughout the film.

Damon’s portrayal of Pienaar is equally impressive, possibly my favorite since The Departed or the Jason Bourne trilogy. His leadership on the field mirrors Mandela’s–as their stories become inextricably intertwined in the battle to unify a country torn both on and off the field. When Mandela asks the team to conduct coaching clinics in the slums of South Africa, the kids at first praise only Chester–the team’s one black player. By the end of the clinics, a flag is implanted in the ground: “One team, one country.” Slowly the skin colors in the Springboks’ crowds begin to diversify.

When Pienaar and the team visit the jail where Mandela was placed, the lines of the haunting poem echo through his cramped cell. A very moving moment comes right before the world cup, as Pienaar stares out the window of his hotel room. When his girlfriend asks if he is thinking about the match, he solemnly replies that he is wondering how a man can spend 30 years in jail and still emerge ready to forgive those who put him there. In this instance, you can actually see the sadness in Damon’s eyes–a connection between actor and content that is perhaps too rare today.

Another small but not insignificant success of the film is its small triumphs: the team portrays progress by learning the words to the new national anthem; Pienaar’s family invites their housekeeper to the championship game; Mandela’s bodyguards–initially enemies–rejoice together over the win. These minuscule details keep audiences smiling and rooting for the characters all through the 134 minutes.

Nonetheless, just like the characters and events of South African history, this film is not invincible–though this rave review might give the impression otherwise; there are a few semi-slow moments towards the beginning–but that is my only (very trite) complaint. Of course, peace can’t be instilled by a rugby game. But this movie–due to the wonderful acting performances boosted by the classic story of what actually was–proves that something as small as a sports match can actually be a step–or more fittingly, a toss–in the right direction. Invictus is a terrific tribute to Mandela’s legacy, these skillful actors, and the history of a nation that overcame its difficult past.

Want a second Poptimal opinion read Invictus Review: Go For The… Goal? by Paul Secrest.