Joseph Fiennes has always looked a bit like a spider monkey in my view, but in this movie he was better than in any role I'd seen him in before, doing what I thought was a competent job with the South African accent as well. Finally exempted from having to play the sex symbol, Ralph's little brother could finally concentrate on actually challenging himself with a complex role. In a movie based upon a true story, Fiennes plays James Gregory, a racist South African guard whose certainties are nonetheless shaken to the core over the span of twenty years the time he spends as Nelson Mandela's prison warden. The movie's merit lies largely in showing us the daily application of a major historic abomination Apartheid through the lives of "little people", those ordinary men and women of South Africa thanks to whom it was perpetuated. These are "ordinary" white people who are neither heroes nor villains, but obtuse conformists. The violence of the system on its white citizens was considerably more hidden than on its black ones, but it was violence all the same: it was the obligation to remain as ignorant as possible. The alternative was to be persecuted by the status quo.
Dennis Haysbert as Nelson Mandela was suitably stoic and charismatic, a positive counterpart to Forest Whitaker's villainous Idi Amin from The Last King of Scotland. Diane Kruger was definitely better cast as an "ordinarily" racist, suburban hairdresser wife and mother of two, than as Helen of Troy. By the end of Goodbye, Bafana, I was also somewhat moved. My major complaint with the movie was that like the vast majority of African-set, historical movies made recently, Nelson Mandela and all the black African characters were largely viewed from the outside, through the whiteys' eyes. These movies' directors all need to sit in a darkened room and watch The Battle of Algiers together sometime
