Four stars. Rated PG, and mostly harmless, aside from an unexpectedly vulgar sexual assault
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 5.9.14
Even under dire circumstances,
virtuous individuals will stand against the entrenched horror of grim mob rule,
risking social censure at best, their very lives at worst.
Oskar Schindler clandestinely
defied Nazis and saved the roughly 1,200 Jews employed in his German factories.
Civil rights activist César Chávez essentially shamed the United States into
acknowledging and improving the wretched conditions under which primarily
Latino laborers harvested foodstuffs. Polish shipyard worker Lech Walesa
founded the Solidarity Movement that led to the fall of communism in his own
country, and likely hastened the demise of the Soviet Union.
Which brings us to William
Murray, the first Earl of Mansfield, a late 18th century barrister, politician
and judge whose enlightened but highly unpopular decisions did much to
encourage England’s eradication of slavery and the financially lucrative slave
trade.
Murray may not be the central
character in director Amma Asante’s thoroughly engaging Belle, but his
presence looms large over the events depicted in this period drama. I must
point out, however, that Misan Sagay’s script is far more fancy than fact; she
plays fast and loose with historical accuracy, and it’s best to regard this
depiction of Dido Elizabeth Belle as wish-fulfillment ... a suggestion of what might
(should?) have been, rather than what was.
Sagay candidly admits, in this film’s
press notes, that she was “inspired” to write this story after viewing a
painting displayed at the University of St. Andrews, in Scotland. The 1779 work,
a typically aristocratic portrait at one time credited to Johann Zoffany,
depicts two beautifully outfitted young women — one black, one white — who,
from their stance and expressions, appear to be both affectionate friends and
equals.
Which, needless to say, would
have been quite unusual at the time.
Asante and Sagay adhere closely
to established fact during a brief prologue, with Captain Sir John Lindsay
(Matthew Goode) bringing his illegitimate mixed-race daughter, Dido, to be
raised at Hampstead’s Kenwood House by his uncle and aunt, Lord and Lady
Mansfield (Tom Wilkinson and Emily Watson), while he returns to his naval
duties. This childless couple already are raising another grand-niece,
Elizabeth Murray, roughly the same age as Dido (which makes them third cousins,
if I have that straight).
Lord and Lady Mansfield likely
initially accept Dido as a companion for Elizabeth, but there’s no question
that the former grows up in privileged surroundings, well treated in a
household that tolerates both her illegitimacy and dark skin.
Time passes; the girls grow to
young adulthood, now played by Gugu Mbatha-Raw (Dido) and Sarah Gadon
(Elizabeth). Asante executes this flash-forward quite charmingly, introducing
us to young women who clearly adore each other. But on the eve of their “coming
out” in society, not even Lord Mansfield’s progressive nature can overcome the
reflexive social prejudice that greets Dido’s very presence.
When the Mansfields entertain
guests, Dido does not dine with the gathered company, although she’s allowed in
the drawing room, for post-meal festivities. Asante and Sagay also stack the
deck rather severely; Dido is far more intelligent, perceptive and accomplished
than the somewhat vacuous Elizabeth.
This film’s great strength is
Mbatha-Raw’s heartfelt and persuasive handling of the title role: a deeply
moving performance that touches our very souls ... as, indeed, it seems the
actress reached into hers. Events and transitions that come naturally to
aristocratic young women conspire to confront Dido with the cruel reality of
her “station” in English society, and each revelation creates another anguished
crease across Mbatha-Raw’s luxurious features.
Merely seeing her upset and
unhappy seems a crime against nature ... and it’s far worse, of course, because
we understand the racist reasons behind the barriers that prevent Dido from
becoming the best person she could be.
Not that this diminishes her
spirit. Sagay grants Dido with the quick wit and tart tongue of a Jane Austen
heroine, and Mbatha-Raw excels at delivering these saucy bon mots and
double-entendres. It’s deliciously amusing to watch the way she “handles”
people: strangers, Kenwood House staff and even Lord Mansfield himself, whom
she regards as a her father.
And, in the typically Austenian
tradition, Dido initially has little use or patience for John Davinier (Sam
Reid), the progressive-minded parson’s son who hopes for a legal career, and
thus positions himself as an apprentice to Lord Mansfield. Despite the barbed
comments that fly between Dido and John, they fool nobody ... not us, and not
even Elizabeth.
As love begins to blossom in
various directions, Sagay intensifies the dramatic tension by making Dido
extraordinarily wealthy, when her father dies off-camera; contrasting her with
Elizabeth, who is penniless (a detail that Lord and Lady Mansfield take pains
to conceal). This is crucial at a time when eligible aristocratic ladies were
expected to greet potential husbands with dowries of land and/or wealth.
The prospective suitors arrive in
the form of brothers Oliver and James Ashford (James Norton, Tom Felton), beloved
sons of the haughty and unapologetically racist Lady Ashford (Miranda
Richardson, at her waspish finest). Oliver, who seems a genuinely decent sort,
takes a shine to Dido: a gesture tolerated by Lady Ashford solely because their
family desperately needs the funds that Dido’s inheritance could provide.
James, in turn, is encouraged to
direct his attention to Elizabeth ... although this is under the belief that
she, as well, can provide a substantial dowry.
The slimy, thoroughly unpleasant
James has none of his brother’s finer virtues, and Felton plays him with the
same smarmy malice that made his Draco Malfoy so memorably unpleasant in all of
the Harry Potter films. Indeed, the thuggish James is responsible for this
film’s one genuinely shocking act.
Although these interwoven
courtship details occupy considerable screen time, far more important issues
are taking place in London’s hallowed halls.
The actual Lord Mansfield was responsible
for two key legal decisions that changed the face of slavery in England:
Somerset v. Stewart (1772) and the 1783 appeal that led to his breathtaking
verdict in the Zong massacre, a precedent-setting incident that erupted when
the crew of a Liverpool-based slave-trading ship of that name threw 142 chained
slaves overboard and then attempted to claim an insurance payment for “loss of
cargo.”
Sagay’s script focuses solely on
the Zong trial, which is shown to obsess Lord Mansfield for many weeks
(months?), given the gravity of a verdict either way. The passionate John
Davinier argues the abolitionist view, augmented by his religious conviction
that people are not “cargo,” to be disposed of when convenient; Dido, needing
no encouragement to strike a blow for her own heritage, winds up in the middle.
Sagay would have us believe that
Dido played a key role in Lord Mansfield’s eventual decision, and their
impassioned arguments here certain resonate with our (one hopes) more
progressive 21st century sensibilities. To be sure, it makes for great drama,
particularly with the emotional heft that we get from the increasingly harsh
words exchanged between a doting father figure and his surrogate daughter.
But “drama” is the operative word
here. Dido’s mere presence in Lord Mansfield’s household, from such an early
age, clearly defines the man’s progressive sensibilities; any suggestion that
Dido argued her position with the savvy of a seasoned debater, as she reached
maturity, likely is no more than wishful thinking ... just as James and Oliver
Ashford, their imperious mother, Elizabeth’s poverty and Dido’s wealth, are
wholly fictitious characters and details.
John Davinier did exist, although
he was a French gentleman’s steward: not a parson’s son, and certainly not a
barrister-in-training. That said, Reid makes a dashing romantic lead, often
caught up in his own mildly amusing formality.
Wilkinson is perfectly cast as
the wise, compassionate but deeply conflicted Lord Mansfield: a man with the
weight of England on his shoulders. Wilkinson always is excellent in roles that
require solemnity and measured severity; nobody ever needs to tell us that Lord
Mansfield is an important figure, because Wilkinson projects that merely by
walking into a room.
Watson remains quiet for much of
the film, observing much and saying little, but her Lady Mansfield clearly
sides with the angels. When it comes time for her to weigh in on a matter,
Watson unerringly navigates the fine line between being a gentle and savvy
observer of human nature, and a titled wife who knows her place in the world
(as opposed to Mbatha-Raw’s Dido, who quickly becomes much too free-thinking
and outspoken for her time and place).
Penelope Wilton is a treat as
Lady Mary Murray, the Kenwood house “spinster” who initially seems little more
than an exasperated foil for Dido and Elizabeth, but eventually shows some
welcome moral fiber of her own.
The film belongs to Mbatha-Raw,
though, whose intensity, torment and moral convictions can’t help inspiring us.
She’s a worthy heroine, and this is an excellent showcase role for an actress
thus far best known for lighter fare such as her supporting part as Tom Hanks’
“makeover expert” in 2011’s Larry Crowne, or as the happily married CIA
operative in TV’s short-lived Undercovers.
If Belle leads to better roles,
well and good. And if it prompts curious viewers to further investigate Dido
Elizabeth Belle, Lord Mansfield and the Zong decision, also well and good.
No comments:
Post a Comment