"I want you to promise me," hotel manager Paul Rusesabagina says to his wife in Hotel Rwanda, "if the soldiers come, I want you to take the children by the hand, and I want you to go up to the roof, and I want you to jump. The machete is no way to die."
Welcome to Rwanda, circa 1994. It is a world of such chaos, malice and inhumanity that it would be better to jump to your death than await your fate. It seems like a nightmare, but this place was real.
Caught in the middle of this maelstrom was Rusesabagina, played by Don Cheadle in a performance of intense determination. Paul was a successful hotel manager who mostly kept to himself. But it was his astuteness in dealing with people that allowed him to save more than 1,200 Tutsi refugees during the Rwandan massacre. He also was a Hutu.
By 1994, hostilities between the African tribes would leave 800,000 Tutsis dead, slaughtered by Hutu. Not everyone in these tribes were mortal enemies of the other, as evidenced by Paul's marriage to a Tutsi (Dirty Pretty Things' Sophie Okonedo is a revelation). It was a great irony, though, that he should be saving people while his fellow tribesmen were committing genocide. The rest of the world looked on in horror, but acted with indifference.
In his portrayal of Paul, Cheadle conveys the calm, clever manner in which the manager of an upscale hotel must appease his diverse guests. Inside, life is relaxed and tranquil. But Paul realizes the world outside is unstable, and he uses his unique social skills to store up favors and money for a time when his family might need it.
But things collapse more quickly than he anticipated, and he must drain his resources to protect not just his own family, but also the many others fleeing for their lives. In maneuvering between treacherous waters on all sides, Cheadle brings Paul off like the talented Mr. Tom Ripley, but in reverse. Instead of covering up a few murders, he must conceal a few hundred refugees, which actually takes a lot more cunning.
For awhile, Paul is aided by the presence of UN peacekeepers, led by Nick Nolte's gruff but well-intentioned Col. Oliver. Oliver would like to help but is limited by his orders to not intervene. It soon becomes apparent that the United Nations is there to protect its own people and isn't too concerned that hundreds of thousands of Africans are being butchered.
Also on hand to witness the bloodshed is a photojournalist, Jack Daglish (a weathered Joaquin Phoenix). The role is little more than a cameo for Phoenix, save for the most powerful statement in the movie. When he returns from the streets with shocking film of Tutsi villagers, including women and children, being dragged from their homes and executed with machetes, Paul believes the footage will shame other nations into intervening. The seasoned reporter replies that people will probably just think, "Oh my God, that's horrible," and then go on eating their dinners.
As things become more dire for everyone, it seems there will be no end to the holocaust. There are certainly plot similarities between Hotel Rwanda and Schindler's List, and Rwanda also shares that film's sense of dread. Appalling things can—and do—happen, and we as an audience often fear the worst, which makes it sometimes difficult to accept when the worst doesn't happen.
If the film has any structural flaws, it's that it relies on this twist too often. Too many times, we are led to believe a character has been killed, only later to find them miraculously saved.
Rwanda's not a whole lot to look at either, lacking the stark cinematography of the best wartime dramas. And, judging by some of the movie's effects, the budget wasn't terribly big. But director Terry George wisely settles for a simple approach that focuses on the gut-wrenching story and performances.
Still, it's hard to dissect a film from a cold, critical standpoint when it portrays the horrors people actually went through in real life. At one point in the film, Paul realizes his tie is on wrong. He tries to fix it but, nerves wracked, his fingers won't respond. His calm exterior finally begins to crack—and I almost joined him.