When you throw subjects like violence, racism, slavery, property, freedom, injustice, and a court scene all together into a movie directed by Steven Spielberg, it's hard to miss the target. All the same, there are times when 1997's Amistad comes dangerously close to failure. The reason for this could be something Spielberg mentioned in a 1994 interview, when he told a reporter that he was the wrong person to direct The Color Purple. He believed a young African American director such as Spike Lee or John Singleton would have been a better choice to direct the film and that thought had lingered with him. Could this explain the distant feeling one gets while watching Amistad? It may be a noble effort, but it is a reserved and cautious offering, perhaps for fear of overstepping his right to even direct the picture.
The movie hits it stride whenever the electrifying Djimon Hounsou (an Oscar-worthy performance that never received a nomination) appears as the tortured African named Cinque. It loses its way whenever it gets bogged down in debate and speeches, because at that point it loses its heart. Perhaps Spielberg is more at home with the subject matter in these trial scenes, but they can hardly be considered to be his forte. Come to think of it, I don't think he's ever tried his hand at a courtroom scene throughout his entire filmography.
Anyway, the story is about Cinque and his fellow countrymen. They have been kidnapped by white slave traders but manage to commandeer the ship La Amistad before it ships them into Cuba. Tricked back into American waters, the Africans are soon captured and a case for ownership of them is argued by up to four different groups and factions. Matthew McConaughey plays Baldwin, an attorney hired by abolitionists Morgan Freeman (Theodore Joadson) and Stellan Skarsgård (Lewis Tappan) to finagle a solution to the dilemma. Since Amistad is based on a true story, the most damning fact is that Baldwin tried the case twice with favourable results, yet it was still brought to the Supreme Court to be argued by former president John Quincy Adams (Anthony Hopkins). Hopkins has a riveting monologue near the end of the film that almost makes up for the previous courtroom scenes.
Unfortunately, unlike his masterpiece Schindler's List, this is presented purely as a Hollywood "tsk tsk" movie. You know the kind. That's when the audience in the theatre is cued by music to tsk tsk at certain key movements, and then whisper to each other "My, how savage and cruel we Americans were way back then". Don't get me wrong; a flashback sequence two thirds into the film is expertly photographed and effectively presented. It's the uneven frequency of similar great moments, when mixed with average dramatic lowpoints, that barely keeps Amistad afloat.
