'Selma' review by Jake Boyle
At present, it seems like Selma's near-absence from the Academy Awards might go down as one of the biggest Oscar snubs is history. Overblown and somewhat arbitrary as the ceremony may be, such furore at the exclusion certainly further piques interest in what was already an enticing prospect for a film that, really, has been a hell of a long time coming/was already adapted for the screen in 1999 but nobody's ever heard of that one.
Selma takes full advantage of the inherently present drama in its story - the institutional violence is shown in clear, unflinching brutality, but what Ava DuVernay wisely does to really intensify the impact is to immediately follow the outbursts with very slow, silent sequences, and the awfulness of what was just witnesses sinks in and can be fully appreciated. This tense but quiet atmosphere is what dominates the whole movie, showing real sophistication and an ability to provide drama beyond shocks and horrors. It permeates the acting too; David Oyelowo's exemplary performance as Martin Luther King contains as much understated silence and thoughtfulness as it does powerful orating and palpable, chill-inducing anger. There's ample support from Carmen Ejogo as a very strained Coretta Scott King, Oprah Winfrey plays Annie Lee Cooper with impressive stalwartness and Tim Roth embeds his racist governor with enough vigour to be interesting but never so much that it becomes cartoonish or detracts from the seriousness of the film. However, unsurprisingly, the film's focus on King means that Oyelowo has by far the most opportunities to amaze and to enrapture.
Most of the drama in the film comes naturally from the oppression and cruelty that abounds the events, once again heightened by DuVernay's confidently slow and contemplative pace, and from the plethora of emotions that this provokes from its principal characters. On multiple occasions, the film does depreciate its own sense of reality and nuance by talking so overtly about modern day applications of its message of progress and understanding that it's practically breaking the fourth wall, but given the political climate that this film was made and released in, it's a completely understandable decision. Occasional schmaltz is more than compensated for overall, as it still remains genuinely moving and there are glimpses of some emotional beauty here and there, in addition to all the tension that runs throughout.
As an issues movie, Selma is entirely on-point, dissecting the topic of racism with a firm precision and an unambiguous presentation of the problem. It venerates MLK without ever exaggerating, and this is one of the few biographical films that actually makes its subject feel like a real human being. As a drama in its own right, it's occasionally clunky but has guts and brains to see it through any of the minor problems it does encounter. Oyelowo's star turn is noteworthy in the extreme but the biggest salute of all belongs to DuVernay for presenting the subject matter both complexly and relaxedly.
Selma takes full advantage of the inherently present drama in its story - the institutional violence is shown in clear, unflinching brutality, but what Ava DuVernay wisely does to really intensify the impact is to immediately follow the outbursts with very slow, silent sequences, and the awfulness of what was just witnesses sinks in and can be fully appreciated. This tense but quiet atmosphere is what dominates the whole movie, showing real sophistication and an ability to provide drama beyond shocks and horrors. It permeates the acting too; David Oyelowo's exemplary performance as Martin Luther King contains as much understated silence and thoughtfulness as it does powerful orating and palpable, chill-inducing anger. There's ample support from Carmen Ejogo as a very strained Coretta Scott King, Oprah Winfrey plays Annie Lee Cooper with impressive stalwartness and Tim Roth embeds his racist governor with enough vigour to be interesting but never so much that it becomes cartoonish or detracts from the seriousness of the film. However, unsurprisingly, the film's focus on King means that Oyelowo has by far the most opportunities to amaze and to enrapture.
Most of the drama in the film comes naturally from the oppression and cruelty that abounds the events, once again heightened by DuVernay's confidently slow and contemplative pace, and from the plethora of emotions that this provokes from its principal characters. On multiple occasions, the film does depreciate its own sense of reality and nuance by talking so overtly about modern day applications of its message of progress and understanding that it's practically breaking the fourth wall, but given the political climate that this film was made and released in, it's a completely understandable decision. Occasional schmaltz is more than compensated for overall, as it still remains genuinely moving and there are glimpses of some emotional beauty here and there, in addition to all the tension that runs throughout.
As an issues movie, Selma is entirely on-point, dissecting the topic of racism with a firm precision and an unambiguous presentation of the problem. It venerates MLK without ever exaggerating, and this is one of the few biographical films that actually makes its subject feel like a real human being. As a drama in its own right, it's occasionally clunky but has guts and brains to see it through any of the minor problems it does encounter. Oyelowo's star turn is noteworthy in the extreme but the biggest salute of all belongs to DuVernay for presenting the subject matter both complexly and relaxedly.
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