Steven Spielberg’s films can be frustrating at times. The director is largely responsible for the state of modern Hollywood, with all the good and bad that comes with it. On the one hand, he’s given us hours of fun, imaginative entertainment; on the other, he’s arguably responsible for Hollywood’s overdependence on the Big Summer Blockbuster and the overall dumbing down of cinematic language. Even when he tackles more serious subject matter, like in Saving Private Ryan or Amistad, he still manages to give the impression that he’d rather be playing around with special effects.

Matthew McConaughey as Roger Baldwin

That sums up Amistad pretty well, I think. It’s not a film that will have you jumping out of your seat, begging for more, but it’s a (mostly) historically accurate picture that deserved to be made, and while there’s not any particularly inventive filmmaking at work here, it’s a very solid movie that features some excellent performances. The film recounts an incident in 1839, in which the slave cargo of Spanish schooner La Amistad successfully rebelled and took command of the vessel. They were tricked, however, by the two crew members they left alive, who sailed them to Long Island, where they were captured and made to stand trial for mutiny and murder. The resulting trial, which was appealed all the way to the Supreme Court, is the main concern of Spielberg’s film.

Matthew McConaughey plays the lawyer recruited into defending the Africans, and Anthony Hopkins plays his reluctant adviser, ex-president John Quincy Adams. Morgan Freeman also shows up as a freed slave-turned-Abolitionist, and Djimon Hounsou puts in a particularly memorable and sympathetic portrayal of Cinque, the de facto leader of, and speaker for, the slaves. Spielberg’s treatment of the events is more-or-less straightforward, beginning with the rebellion, and ending with the Supreme Court decision—aside from a somewhat lengthy flashback that relates the slaves’ capture, sale, and illegal importation (the United States had outlawed the Transatlantic Slave Trade in 1809). The flashback serves in many ways as the centerpiece of the film—and arguably the reason it was made—a graphic portrayal of the treatment of slaves in era. It’s not fun to watch, but it deserves attention (not that Roots didn’t shed some light on this subject—but here we have the uncensored version), and really serves as the only necessary justification for making the film.

That’s not to say, however, that the film doesn’t have any other memorable moments. The scenes between McConaughey and Hounsou seethe with pathos and tension—the drama between a man lost in an unfamiliar world and a lawyer who wants to help—but isn’t sure how—provides excellent material for the talented actors, and the language barrier makes things all the more interesting. The courtroom drama here is also well-done, and provides a perfect contrast to the violent and disturbing images of the slave ships (even if, like most filmmakers, Spielberg displays a less-than-firm grasp of standard legal procedures). Spielberg also has fun playing with languages, and his choices of which lines to subtitle add a degree of depth.

Djimon Hounsou as Joseph Cinque

If the film has any major problems, they are arguably in its inability to contextualize slavery and the slave trade historically. Slave owners and traders are given very little voice, and the film rarely acknowledges the socioeconomic realities that created, and continued to necessitate, Western slavery (John Calhoun shows up toward the end to expound on these a bit, but it is too little, too late). Slavery is a problem that persists in the world to this day, and until we understand what causes it, and attack the problem at the root, it will continue to do so. Instead of addressing this, however, the film seems content to wave the American flag and pat our society on the back for (ostensibly) getting rid of the institution.

Spielberg deals with this very briefly, with some end titles that undercut the film’s uplifting ending somewhat, but for the most part the film fails to do justice to an important issue. In many ways, however, the battle with which Amistad is most concerned appears to be a philosophical one—the nature of identity, the nature of freedom, etc.—and in that respect, it gets the job done. This isn’t the final word on slavery by any means, but it is a well-spoken one.