Tsotsi
July 21, 2006
- Mark Keizer,
DVDFile.com
We’ve heard this story before, but we haven’t
heard it told like this. Tsotsi (Presley Chweneyagae) is a ruthless
punk living in squalor in the South African town of
Johannesburg. He runs with a gang of similar punks, who have no
compunction about killing. Tstosi is the most unrepentant of the gang,
but they all have their moments. In a crowded subway, Butcher (Zenzo
Ngqobe) stabs a man with a long, sharp pick and puts him down so
gently, no one realizes he’s been stabbed. Tstosi, though, seems
the most deadly, the most feral. Wearing a hood and holding his gun
sideways, he looks animalistic and resistant to rehabilitation. As
these early scenes unfolded, I was reminded of the countless Stateside
films starring rappers and other African-American actors, who begin
the film as merciless killers, only to end the film as dead merciless
killers, or incarcerated merciless killers. But Tsotsi, based
on playwright Athol Fugard’s work, isn’t interested in
operatic levels of storytelling or the uncomfortable feeling that the
actors in these films seem to be having fun holding prop guns and
pretending to pop various caps into various asses. Tsotsi is also prone to explosive bursts of violence, his default
way of dealing with any threat. But ironically, it’s a savage
burst of brutality that leads to what may be his redemption. After
being needled by one his accomplices for a lack of decency, Tsosti
beats the man to a bloody pulp. Fleeing, he winds up in a fashionable
neighborhood, where he approaches a woman who is standing in the rain,
ringing the doorbell of her gated home. Tsotsi shoots the woman in the
stomach, then drives away in her BMW. What Tsotsi soon realizes is
that there’s a baby in the backseat. It’s not hard to
imagine Tsotsi shooting the baby, or tossing it out the car window.
But the friend who berated his lack of humanity opened a crack in his
armor and Tsotsi, which means thug in the native language, takes the
baby home. Tsotsi is hardly Father of the Year
material, but he manages to keep the baby fed. In the baby, Tsotsi is
in possession of someone who cannot be persuaded by violence or forced
to do something they don’t want to do. In other words, Tsosti
has found someone stronger than him, yet infinitely weaker. As
mentioned before, in picturing Tsotsi holding the baby, we imagine the
one-sheet for Get Rich or Die Tryin’, 50 Cent posing
with his back to the camera, holding a baby. But director Gavin
Hood presents his story with no flash and no cynicism. The movie does
not condemn Tsotsi or make excuses for him. He is simply a tragic
product of a horrible environment. He may be guilty of all he has
done, but at the end, even Tsotsi feels there may be more to life than
the one he’s been living. I enjoyed the ending of the film, in
which the police finally track down Tsotsi and the baby’s
parents cry for the return of their child. It’s a simple,
slightly ambiguous denouement that Chweneyagae plays with a
combination of fear and sensitivity. By the end, Tsotsi’s future
is still in doubt and it may, in fact, be too late for him. But in his
frightened gaze we sense his realization that the life he’s been
living has been no life at all. Video: How
Does the Disc Look? Tsotsi is graced
with a very vibrant and colorful 2.35:1 transfer. What’s
striking about the transfer is that it’s so clean, it’s
almost glossy. Shot in Super 35, colors are radiant and sharp,
retaining full saturation. Reds and browns are almost three-
dimensional looking. Blacks are rock solid, showing no pixelation or
macroblocking. I saw no grain and the print looks to be in amazing
shape. Detail is also quite good and contrast is above average. The
establishing shots of the slum where Tsotsi lives are gorgeous. The
whole thing is gorgeous, really. My only complaint is that the picture
is so vivid it’s hyper-real. You appreciate it on a
technological level, but it takes a second to adjust to on an
emotional level. Audio: How Does the Disc
Sound?
The audio is in Dolby Digital 5.1.
The only language is the film’s original language of Taal.
English is available via subtitles. This is a striking language to
hear; much of it is completely foreign, but every sentence or two,
they’ll be a word that sounds exactly like it does in English.
It jolts you when you hear them. Anyway, the audio is very evocative
and supports the visuals extremely well. Granted, the surrounds
didn’t do a lot (some at the beginning, but they tapered off
after that), but the front side channels chime in with effects and
bits of dialogue. But what impressed was the clarity of the audio and
the sharp, clean combination of dialogue, music, and effects. Dialogue
is extremely clean. The music is also quite crisp, although deeper
bass would have been appreciated. The 5.1 track is a very lively and
lifelike, enhancing the experience of watching the film. Along with English, subtitles are available in
Spanish. Supplements: What Goodies are There?
For a relatively small film, Miramax did a nice
job compiling the extras. First in the Bonus Features menu
is Alternate Endings, which can be viewed
with or without audio commentary by Hood. The director says both of
these endings felt contrived and that the eventual ending was created
in the edit bay. Seeing these possible endings, Hood is right; these
two alternate endings were melodramatic. The one he created in editing
feels right. Next are three deleted
scenes, which add up to about ten minutes. The first is a
five-minute scene where one of the minor characters makes a
confession. The next is the only moment of warmth for Tsotsi in the
whole film. All these scenes put an exclamation point on the emotions,
leaving the viewer with less to consider on their own. I admire Hood
for not going the easy route. The 13-minute The
Making of Tsotsi is pretty standard, but the movie
is interesting enough that the featurette is interesting. The movie is
based on the only novel that playwright Athol Fugard ever wrote. It
only took two years from script to shooting, which is a testament to
the strength of the story and quite a different situation from the
usual “we toiled for 18 years trying to make this teenage
comedy.” There is some behind the scenes footage and a quick
interview with the actor who plays the title character. Again,
it’s typical, but it’s worth a look.
Next is a great audio commentary by director Gavin
Hood, who shows quite a complete knowledge of his characters and how
the loss of Tsotsi’s mother made him who he is. Hood says the
movie is about how the main character “rediscovers his own
humanity.” Hood also gets into the violence in the film, but he
refuses to glamorize it and, in fact, toned it down so the emphasis
was on the effects of violence, not the violence itself. Hood, who is
UCLA educated, comes across as an intelligent man with a firm grasp of
the visuals and the emotions of the piece. The most
interesting extra is a short film by director Gavin
Hood called The Storekeeper. It’s available with or
without audio commentary by Hood. It was Hood’s first 35 mm film
and he did it eight years ago. Hood considers Storekeeper and
Tsotsi very similar; for instance, Storekeeper has
no dialogue at all, while Tsotsi has relatively little
dialogue. It’s based on the true story of a storeowner who was
repeatedly robbed until taking matters into his own hands. A worthy
inclusion. The video looks generally good. Blacks are dark and colors
are rich, but there is some grain and slight pixelation. Finally there is a music video for the song
“Mdlwembe” by an artist named Zola. It’s a rap thing
and it includes footage from the movie. Parting
Thoughts
Last year was a very competitive year for
the Best Foreign Film Oscar, and Tsotsi is probably the weakest of a
strong bunch. But it’s still a terrific film. Although the world
of the film is filled with squalor, it’s refreshing to be taken
somewhere entirely new. The performances are all first-rate and the
story, while well worn, doesn’t hit the easy, audience-pleasing
notes. An excellent transfer and some enlightening extras make
this a recommended rental for audiences who favor foreign fare.
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