This is how my all-time favourite film begins. The calm voice of Meryl Streep and the African landscapes on a bird's eye view produce a sort of spell that leave you suspended from reality and into the past lives of real characters in the endless immensities of Africa.
To my knowledge, this is the only movie that is far better than the book that inspired it. I have the real "Out of Africa" by Karen Blixen but somehow I haven't managed to read it to the end. It has been there on my bedside table for years holding the promise that one day I will eventually finish it. I never do, though. I read the lines and it's always the movie that comes to my mind. I see the picture of the real Blixen and it's always Streep I see pleading for the Kikuyu.
Because of "Out of Africa", I decided I wanted to study imperialism in Africa. Because of a movie I saw for the first time in my childhood years, I decided my life, I did a PhD in my adult years.
This was also the first movie that brought tears to my eyes, mine and Mom's. There we were the two of us in that silent apprehension of the sublime, together in the same enchantment. And because each time I watch "Out of Africa" I remember Mom, and because the tears now are the souvenir of Mom, today I can only remember Sydney Pollack. Thank you!