Powerful desire for equality is a political masterpiece

teven Spielberg artfully tears a page from history to immortalise the efforts of the 16th president of the United States to abolish slavery during a turbulent period of deep division within the House of Representatives.

At a time when multi-culturalism is trotted out ad nauseum by politicians as modern society’s badge of honour, Lincoln is a stark reminder of the sins of the past and how far we still have to go to create a world of true equality.

The plot condenses the final months of the president’s life into an elegiac portrait of a husband and father whose courage in the eye of a political storm tested his resolve and his marriage.

The dialogue is exquisite, and potentially dense and baffling philosophies are distilled into digestible exposition so it’s easy to follow the arguments on both sides of the political divide.

A terrific ensemble cast is led magnificently by Daniel Day-Lewis. So often berated for grand-standing and chewing scenery, here the London-born actor is the model of restraint, internalising a maelstrom of emotions.

His performance is no less affecting, and the physical transformation is startling, but our eyes are constantly drawn to him because of that quiet intensity in a sea of screaming, shouting brow-beaters.

A powerful prologue on blood-stained battlefields segues neatly to January 1865.

Two months have passed since Lincoln’s re-election, the American Civil War rages on for a fourth year and the president’s thoughts turn to the highly-contentious slavery bill.

Secretary Of State William H Seward (Strathairn) counsels against the motion, given the current make-up of the House of Representatives.

However, Lincoln is adamant that the Bill must be passed before the end of the war and he enlists William N Bilbo (Spader) and Colonel Robert Latham (Hawkes) to procure votes.

Inside the House, fervent abolitionist Thaddeus Stevens (Jones) continues to rile the Democrat opposition led by Fernando Wood (Pace).

Meanwhile, Lincoln contends with the mood swings of his emotionally fragile wife (Field), who is so often his rock.

Lincoln is a magnificent achievement, distinguished by John Williams’s haunting score, and every shot is beautifully framed.

Admittedly, the running time is slightly long, testing our concentration and physical resolve.

Yet, as the film ends with Lincoln heading to an ill-fated performance of Our American Cousin, we give Spielberg’s film a rousing vote of confidence.