"I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. "
Invictus, by William Ernest Henley
I was always a bit confused by "Invictus". If anyone would make a movie about South African sport, you'd feel sure it would be about their far more impressive World Cup win in France in 2007, with a much more racially mixed side, and away from home. Or of course the football world cup last year, much more inclusive sport and a far bigger stage.
I was confused because the springbok side of 1995 was almost entirely all white, except for Chester Williams, which seemed to me to represent everything about the past rather than the future.
In fact there's a scene of something I actually remember watching back in 1995, before the Springboks play France in the pouring rain; a group of black women with brooms are sent out to sweep the pitch of water, seemed to demonstrate how little had changed. Which struck me as ironic when I perceived the whole competition to be a showcase for the "new" South Africa.
(I must say I was also very surprised to see Clint Eastwood - or any Amercian for that matter - make a movie about Rugby Union!) So it took me a long time to get around to seeing this movie, but I'm very glad I did.
I hadn't realised the film is about the moment Mandela went out the day of the Final in the "Bokke" shirt, the very shirt that would have been proudly worn by his oppressors. This is what united the nation. It demonstrated and symbolised how he was able to show forgiveness, and that at once brought black South Africa behind the team they had always cheered against; and brought white South Africa behind their new - until only recently unthinkable - black President.
There are a couple of scenes that really make the movie. When the Sprinboks are asked by Mandela to train in a series of black townships, and because of Chester - the one black player - bring the children behind them who otherwise would be playing Soccer and failing to relate to the game that was always seen as "white". Its very moving to see the players teaching them how to play.
There is also the mechanism where the white secret police are assigned to the President's black security detail, and the developing warmth - from frosty mutual-hostility - that develops between them through the support of the national rugby team. But the small black boy who attempts to eavesdrop on the world cup final over the white policemen's radio - at first shunned but gradually accepted and by the end embraced enthusiastically.
It is actually a cracking yarn.
Irony is, the victory is at the expense of New Zealand, which I understand to be the country where, in 1981, a Springbok tour ran into severe anti- aparteid grief, driving home hard the message that the racist state had become a pariah state.
What the film doesn't discuss however is the fact that most of the world believes that the South Africans either poisoned the Kiwis, or kept them up all night by driving hooting cars around their hotel all night...or both!