Invictus Joyeux Noel!

Hi Everybody!
I may not be the master of my soul or the captain of my fate, but I love sports movies like INVICTUS. Clint Eastwood is the most colorblind of our major directors, and his long partnership with Morgan Freeman is enduring proof of his taste level in actors. While Eastwood has often cast amateurs in his movies, clearly Freeman has been his go-to guy for over a decade, and for obvious reasons.
With the end of Aparteid in his rearview mirror, Eastwood uses South Africa to deliver a rousing ode to brotherhood without the usual sermon which has plagued other such efforts. It is in the small touches where Eastwood shines: how the rugby captain's maid is invited to the World Cup, how a street begger listens to the game on a police unit's radio, how Mandela's estranged daughter ends up rooting for the despised Bokke team despite herself.
The last 20 minutes of the movie is essentially an escalating montage and, again, it is Eastwood's storytelling that makes it effective and not incoherant. Eastwood may direct with a stopwatch but, particularly in a movie with so many crowd scenes, he prevents his extras from mugging and sometimes catches something close to authenticity.
Freeman's professionalism along with his genuine warmth keeps the movie entertaining, while Matt Damon throwing himself physically into the Rugby field allows us to have a real actor delivering his ground-level lines with authority.
Eastwood makes it look easy, but most major directors flub the small moments that become the heart of this film. Another big winner from Clint, and you can stick that in your GRAN TORINO!
Merry Christmas to you all and be good, for goodness' sake! Talk to you, soon!
Brad