Derek Luke has a serene, focused presence. His beautiful skin, cheekbones, sensuous lips, soulful eyes are easy to take in. In the film Antwone Fisher he displayed a wounded sensitivity like that of James Dean. His performance was revelatory: fresh, precise, tender. In Phillip Noyce's Catch a Fire Luke's work is again revealing.
He is glaringly miscast.
As Patrick Chamusso, a foreman at South Africa's Secunda oil refinery during apartheid, Luke must transform from an apolitical family man into an impassioned African National Congress "terrorist" against the Boer's Police Security Branch. Luke's accent is flawless; he's effective early on as a man determined to live fully amidst horrific circumstances. Yet once he's falsely accused of masterminding an explosion at Secunda, then he and his wife Precious (Bonnie Henna) are beaten and demoralized, he leaves his family to train in Mozambique with the ANC.
Here's where the film falters. The actor delivers lines in a fluid monotone, seduced by the musicality of that lovely patois. He spends so much time on the accent that he forgets to act. He has no range; no depth. He's a little boy trapped in political mire. Which may be part of the point, yet without an actor to suggest the shadings of injustice and to hold his own against Tim Robbin's expertly awful Nic Vos we're left with a version of The Fugitive wearing fancy political drag.
One other note: there's singing in Catch a Fire. Tons of it. African folk singing. Beautiful, in fact. However, every time a crowd opens its collective mouth, they sound remarkably like Ladysmith Black Mambazo even when they are the workers at the oil factory standing in line. In the interest of verisimilitude, would it be too much to ask that at least one person be tone deaf and unable to carry a tune?
He is glaringly miscast.
As Patrick Chamusso, a foreman at South Africa's Secunda oil refinery during apartheid, Luke must transform from an apolitical family man into an impassioned African National Congress "terrorist" against the Boer's Police Security Branch. Luke's accent is flawless; he's effective early on as a man determined to live fully amidst horrific circumstances. Yet once he's falsely accused of masterminding an explosion at Secunda, then he and his wife Precious (Bonnie Henna) are beaten and demoralized, he leaves his family to train in Mozambique with the ANC.
Here's where the film falters. The actor delivers lines in a fluid monotone, seduced by the musicality of that lovely patois. He spends so much time on the accent that he forgets to act. He has no range; no depth. He's a little boy trapped in political mire. Which may be part of the point, yet without an actor to suggest the shadings of injustice and to hold his own against Tim Robbin's expertly awful Nic Vos we're left with a version of The Fugitive wearing fancy political drag.
One other note: there's singing in Catch a Fire. Tons of it. African folk singing. Beautiful, in fact. However, every time a crowd opens its collective mouth, they sound remarkably like Ladysmith Black Mambazo even when they are the workers at the oil factory standing in line. In the interest of verisimilitude, would it be too much to ask that at least one person be tone deaf and unable to carry a tune?