Lincoln

In some ways, Lincoln uncomfortably reminded me of last year's sensational The Help. Probably due to the film’s ostentatious clinging to the fact that black and white, truth and falsehood have no shades. Spielberg made a film that reminded me of Eliad's concept of an absolute epic time. It is not a historical drama. It's a myth. A myth in which politicians disintegrate into enlightened progressivists, hysterical obscurantists and spineless "hesitators". A myth in which we do not ask what motivates the main character to such a determined attitude, what drives him forward, because the main character himself is the absolute truth (although it suggests a certain internal ruggedness in the film, the film never lets it prevail and disrupt the state aura). Lincoln could not have wished for a better form than Daniel Day Lewis imprinted on him - slow, deliberate, genial, infinitely kind, yet convinced and convincing to the bone. Spielberg treats the character with striking iconicity - the way he places him in the shots, the way he uses the meaning-creating light, only confirms to us that Lincoln the mortal is not in front of us, but rather Lincoln the icon. When the president dies, Steven draws a baroque shot in which life is darkness and death is light ("He has gone to Eternity"). The Hagiography of the Saint, including the structure of the narrative - an exposition revealing the world in imbalance / enlightenment through dream / rectification / martyrdom (something that has worked well since the Middle Ages, through messianism, to this day). I'm not making fun of it, I’m not questioning it. I've seen other deified lumens with a far greater degree of dilettantism, and it does not bother me in Lincoln. But it also doesn't affect me in any way. This is a film-ritual for believers, whether "Lincoln" or "Spielberg" lovers, who will compete in praising how narratively and formally brilliant it is (and it indeed is). I do not deny the film the visual captivation of classical art, nor the narrative prowess with which Spielberg brings humor to the leather framework of parliamentary debates and skillfully alternates spatial-temporal plans. But the film is cold, simplistic in some respects, avoiding real problems... I have to smile a little: when Lincoln bribes the Democrats to help him out, we can agree that he's doing the right thing (because he represents the truth, "it's a long time ago", and moreover it's filmed as a comedy). But when the protagonist of The Ides of March does the same thing, it's disgusting pragmatism, dirt, disgusting politics, and American critics are writing about a film that today's America doesn't need. Today's America certainly needs Lincoln and a solid granite myth. As a spectator, I don't need to see anything like this, even if it has a more self-virtuoso form. It is, in my view, self-affirming ideological boredom that defends any doubts by eradicating them with the schemes seen a hundred times, to which the elite actors' faces and the proven structure of the narrative give the impression of uniqueness. But such a film is not able to offer me anything important for life, just a yawning abyss of distance from the perfectly coherent and closed world of myth. With all due respect, Mr. Spielberg. (11/01/2013) (less) (more)