Well said… but undone!
Have you ever delivered a speech? Anywhere? If yes, you must know how it feels. If not, you must know what how it feels. Speaking is one…
Have you ever delivered a speech? Anywhere? If yes, you must know how it feels. If not, you must know what how it feels. Speaking is one thing. Speech is something else. During a speech, it seems as if you’re saying something against the world—especially when you aren’t; it is the positioning that makes it look so — and to make matters worse, the people around you appear like they are interested in what you’ve got to share. The burden of interest, if you may (you won’t). You think it sucks to be ignored? Try gaining attention and notice how your surrounding zooms in on you. Peer pressured. And how.
That’s the essence of speech, microphone or no microphone.
However, in the galaxy of cinema, things could be slightly magical. If you google ‘greatest speeches in cinema’, you’ll get the usual suspects, mostly from the previous century. There will be a male-dominated parade from Charlie Chaplin (The Great Dictator) to Russell Crowe (A Beautiful Mind). Almost as if it’s a taboo to let a female character speak for more than a few seconds lest she steals the movie. Furthermore, you can’t blame the screen writers for the lack of feminine spirit. They were and still are, for all practical reasons, simply voicing the aspirations of the era alive.
That said, there is one long monologue from Amistad (1997), directed by Steven Spielberg, that ought to be highlighted for its binding nature. It’s not exactly a speech but it’s nothing less than a speech either. Blessed with all the qualities necessary to borrow your ears, it reeks of equality, trespassing the myopic boundaries of gender and race. The sort of words that could have been delivered by anybody in the world and would still mean a lot because of the sheer humanity in them. In this given film, they are delivered by Anthony Hopkins, who is portraying the role of John Quincy Adams, within a 10 minute time-frame, reminding us once again why he’s one of the greatest thespians ever.
I’d strongly urge you to watch the movie if you haven’t already, and not just the clip. Also, most importantly, pay attention to the words used and the flow of evocation. The Americanness of the monologue doesn’t betray the all-encompassing call for justice. Anywhere.
Your Honors, I derive much consolation from the fact that my colleague, Mr. Baldwin, here, has argued the case in so able and so complete a manner as to leave me scarcely anything to say.
However, why are we here? How is it that a simple, plain property issue should now find itself so ennobled as to be argued before the Supreme Court of the United States of America? I mean, do we fear the lower courts, which found for us easily, somehow missed the truth? Is that it? Or is it, rather, our great and consuming fear of civil war that has allowed us to heap symbolism upon a simple case that never asked for it and now would have us disregard truth, even as it stands before us, tall and proud as a mountain? The truth, in truth, has been driven from this case like a slave, flogged from court to court, wretched and destitute. And not by any great legal acumen on the part of the opposition, I might add, but through the long, powerful arm of the Executive Office.
Yea, this is no mere property case, gentlemen. I put it to you thus: This is the most important case ever to come before this court. Because what it, in fact, concerns is the very nature of man.
These are transcriptions of letters written between our Secretary of State, John Forsyth, and the Queen of Spain, Isabella the Second. Now, I ask that you accept their perusal as part of your deliberations.
I would not touch on them now except to notice a curious phrase which is much repeated. The queen again and again refers to our incompetent courts. Now what, I wonder, would be more to her liking? Huh? A court that finds against the Africans? Well, I think not. And here is the fine point of it: What her majesty wants is a court that behaves just like her courts, the courts this eleven year-old child plays with in her magical kingdom called Spain, a court that will do what it is told, a court that can be toyed with like a doll, a court — as it happens — of which our own President, Martin Van Buren, would be most proud.
This is a publication of the Office of the President. It’s called the Executive Review, and I’m sure you all read it. At least I’m sure the President hopes you all read it. This is a recent issue, and there’s an article in here written by a “keen mind of the South,” who is my former Vice President, John Calhoun, perhaps — Could it be? — who asserts that:
There has never existed a civilized society in which one segment did not thrive upon the labor of another. As far back as one chooses to look — to ancient times, to biblical times — history bears this out. In Eden, where only two were created, even there one was pronounced subordinate to the other. Slavery has always been with us and is neither sinful nor immoral. Rather, as war and antagonism are the natural states of man, so, too, slavery, as natural as it is inevitable.
Now, gentlemen, I must say I differ with the keen minds of the South, and with our president, who apparently shares their views, offering that the natural state of mankind is instead — and I know this is a controversial idea — is freedom. Is freedom. And the proof is the length to which a man, woman, or child will go to regain it, once taken. He will break loose his chains, He will decimate his enemies. He will try and try and try against all odds, against all prejudices, to get home.
Cinque, would you stand up, if you would, so everyone can see you. This man is black. We can all see that. But can we also see as easily that which is equally true — that he is the only true hero in this room.
Now, if he were white, he wouldn’t be standing before this court fighting for his life. If he were white and his enslavers were British, he wouldn’t be able to stand, so heavy the weight of the medals and honors we would bestow upon him. Songs would be written about him. The great authors of our times would fill books about him. His story would be told and retold in our classrooms. Our children, because we would make sure of it, would know his name as well as they know Patrick Henry’s.
Yet, if the South is right, what are we to do with that embarrassing, annoying document, “The Declaration of Independence?” What of its conceits? “All men…created equal,” “inalienable rights,” “life,” “liberty,” and so on and so forth? What on earth are we to do with this?
I have a modest suggestion.
The other night I was talking with my friend, Cinque. He was over at my place, and we were out in the greenhouse together. And he was explaining to me how when a member of the Mende — that’s his people — how when a member of the Mende encounters a situation where there appears no hope at all, he invokes his ancestors. It’s a tradition. See, the Mende believe that if one can summon the spirits of one’s ancestors, then they have never left, and the wisdom and strength they fathered and inspired will come to his aid.
James Madison, Alexander Hamilton, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, George Washington, John Adams: We’ve long resisted asking you for guidance. Perhaps we have feared in doing so we might acknowledge that our individuality which we so, so revere is not entirely our own. Perhaps we’ve feared an appeal to you might be taken for weakness. But, we’ve come to understand, finally, that this is not so. We understand now, we’ve been made to understand, and to embrace the understanding that who we are is who we were.
We desperately need your strength and wisdom to triumph over our fears, our prejudices, our-selves. Give us the courage to do what is right. And if it means civil war, then let it come. And when it does, may it be, finally, the last battle of the American Revolution.
That’s all I have to say.
In conclusion, we are in dire need of similar speeches, from cinema or otherwise. Speeches that guide us towards ourselves by cajoling us to see what’s wrong and find the answers within us. We can barely find them nowadays. Yes, there are magnificent TED talks but they sound like they cater to those without their skin in the game. Or maybe i’m being too skeptical for my own good here.
That’s all i have to say.