Amistad
David Franzoni and Steven Spielberg, 1997
To a non-believer hell is such a transparently hollow threat, so manifestly
an invention of a primitive culture, that it's hard to believe that anyone
could seriously feel the need to be saved from it. But then again... I'm on
record saying that, while I think that reincarnation probably doesn't
happen, I can't dismiss it altogether, because the biggest buy-in is
incarnation itself — the notion that after over thirteen billion
years of oblivion, and before that the non-existence of time, you could come
into existence as a conscious creature registering experiences —
and once you've established that, it's a relatively short stretch to say
that it might happen again. Similarly, what is hell other than the notion
that one could be plucked from oblivion into a plane of incomprehensible
torment? And as a movie like Amistad reminds us, isn't that
precisely the experience of, conservatively,
?
How can I unequivocally state that something like hell doesn't exist when
even the most hair-raising descriptions of it don't sound that much worse
than the conditions on a slave ship, and I know that slave ships existed?
Amistad isn't really a great movie. The strings are too visible:
the music too obtrusive, the events too clearly scripted as movie scenes,
the historical figures too clearly reshaped into movie characters —
for instance, the filmmakers make John Quincy Adams
into a stock character, the crotchety old man with a distinguishing hobby
(in this case gardening). But it's still pretty cool to see him get his due
as one of the great figures in American history, and I think it was a
valuable project to illustrate the extent to which human beings have brought
about nothing short of hell on earth for reasons as banal as making shirts a
little cheaper.
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