Genuine Inspiration

Saw most of Invictus, the film about the Springboks winning the Rugby World Cup in 1995, this evening, but still haven't watched the whole thing. On two earlier occasions I'd watched and enjoyed the last hour or so, almost despite myself. I'm not a great one for manipulatively inspirational movies and that's what Clint Eastwood as director went all out to provide. But I could live with this one since Mandela clearly, unashamedly went out to manipulate his nation and the world through the tournament and succeeded magnificently for the best of reasons. (By the way, Morgan Freeman is just astonishing as Mandela. He becomes the great man such that when a final photograph of the real president comes up in the credits you almost assume it's another shot of Freeman.)

Seeing more of the earlier part of the film added enormously to its power and quality since this is much darker than the later segments and makes no bones at all about the faultlines in South African society and how close to impossible it was going to be to ever create bridges across them. But Mandela did it.

I'm thinking now of three moments in my life when what Mandela stood for (and stands for) loomed large. One was the final itself and seeing him in that green and gold shirt with some small understanding, now enhanced by the movie, of what that meant. Secondly listening to Elvis Costello sing Free Nelson Mandel with The Specials back in the dark ages, and realising that his freedom was a real possibility and people's voices together might just be able to change the unalterable. And thirdly, watching him walk out of his prison on a live tv broadcast and knowing, just knowing, that something huge was possible.

The weight on those shoulders. The size of the man!