Out of Africa won seven Academy Awards in 1985, including Best Picture (up against The Color Purple and others). It was nominated for four more Awards that year. Since then, critics disagree about the quality of the film, some claiming the pacing was too slow while others remark about the incredible cinematography and the original score. For me, no other film will ever come close to affecting me as dramatically as Out of Africa.

From the first line of the movie—which is identical to the first line of the book—this film stole my heart and owned me: “I had a farm in Africa, at the foot of the Ngong Hills…” It was Meryl Streep’s voice, as Karen Blixen (aka Isak Dineson) in a Danish accent, soft and reflective, that viewers hear first, and when I first heard it, Karen Blixen, Meryl Streep, and Karen Henderson all sort of merged into one female protagonist.

The scenery of Africa is stunning, and much of the cinematography was filmed from the sky as Karen and Denys Finch Hatten (Karen Blixen’s lover played by Robert Redford) flew overhead in Denys’s bi-plane. The musical score adds to the incredible feeling of being there–flying over Africa and seeing for the first time the expanse and the majestic creatures of Africa from the air. Even today, I sometimes listen to the soundtrack and revel in the feeling of endless possibility and limitless potential, the feelings the film conjures for me during those scenes.

It was Karen Blixen (as played by Streep) who really spoke to me, however. An unbelievably independent woman, Blixen endured indignity after indignity because of her gender and her independent spirit, but she never gave up on her dreams, and she rarely even acknowledged the indignities she experienced. One time, only, in the film, she goes before a British magistrate and prostrates herself publically, begging for land where her African workers can go live after she is forced to sell her farm. Everyone else is more embarrassed than she is and she finally wins the promise of the magistrate’s wife to arrange for land for the Africans. This is the first moment in the film (and toward the end) where I have never been able to control my tears. Something about her humbling herself in that way because she loves and cares for her workers always touches me deeply, and from there on throughout the rest of the film, I cry in every scene until the end.

Another moment that speaks to me happens toward the end of the film as Karen prepares to leave Africa. At a hotel with a Gentlemen’s Club, where she had previously been banned because she was a woman, she is invited to join the men for a drink. Taken aback, she graciously joins them for one quick shot of whiskey, whereby all the men stand to honor her. It’s too late, really, but it’s sweet vindication of her as a woman to be reckoned with. Other parts of the film that stand out in my mind include Karen’s relationship with her head servant, Farah, and a waltz she shares with Denys about midway through the film. The contrast of the gentility of the music, the literature, the food and drink, and the manners, with the ferocity of the country, the animals, nature, and other humans strikes a discordant tone, yet at the same time the contrasts illuminate and validate the qualities of the other.

After I saw the film, I became a devotee of Isak Dineson (Karen Blixen), reading everything I could find about her. I was astonished to learn that we share the same birthday, April 17, and that she died the year I was born. Wanting to know more, I read a biography about her—the title I no longer remember—and I was somewhat disappointed to learn that she was actually a difficult woman quite often, she could be quite contrary, she had high expectations of people around her, and she sometimes had rather grandiose illusions of herself; I was saddened to realize that this woman I idolized was not as perfect as I initially believed. She was a real woman—an incredible, independent, strong, determined, sensual woman—but still real and still flawed. I had thought we had so much in common. Ah, perhaps we do.

4 thoughts on “OUT OF AFRICA”

  1. Interesting … so you liked the cinematography and the theme around strong independent women. Go figure.

    I’ve never been able to get past the first scenes of the movie. The things that drew you in and engaged you with the awe of time and space in Africa always say to me “oh my god is this going to be a boring movie”.

    Critically, I think the challenge Out of Africa has in its reviews is its long term impact. Comparing it with other Best Picture selections it seems to be more about the pictures and amazing cinematography in Africa and the way this was used to tell the story. This was amazing stuff in 1985 but we keep raising the bar on what we expect in technology.


  2. Indeed. In fact, some of the reviews and comments I read were exactly that. Someone wrote about the “glacial speed.” 🙂 I wonder if that isn’t another reason it appealed to me; I often get lost in films that move too quickly and usually prefer to read the book, so I can linger in places that interest me. In any case, I appreciate you reading my blog and commenting. Thanks, Mike!


  3. I actually feel as if movies have gone hill as of late. Speeding them up, not only in a sense of storyline but in a sense of production has seemed to destroy the quality of films. Good films used to hinge on good actors, good writing, and good cinematography. As of the last twenty years it seems as if we have fallen into quick action scenes, and bigger explosions. Film to me used to be like a good book, warm and generous. Now I just feel as if I am just watching a movie manufactured on an assembly line.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s