Out of Africa (1985)
- Soames Inscker
- May 12
- 4 min read
Updated: Jun 8

Introduction
Out of Africa is a sumptuous and reflective epic adapted from the memoirs of Danish author Karen Blixen (writing as Isak Dinesen), chronicling her years in British East Africa during the early 20th century. Released in 1985 and directed by Sydney Pollack, the film is a sprawling romantic drama that fuses breathtaking visuals with introspective narration, political subtext, and personal tragedy.
Led by Meryl Streep and Robert Redford, the film presents a deeply nostalgic and romanticized view of colonial Africa through the lens of a complex, independent woman, capturing both the personal and cultural tensions of an era. While it has been both praised for its grandeur and critiqued for its Eurocentric gaze, Out of Africa remains a significant cinematic achievement that balances intimacy with spectacle.
Plot Summary

Karen Blixen (Meryl Streep), an aristocratic Danish woman, travels to British East Africa (present-day Kenya) in 1913 to marry Baron Bror Blixen (Klaus Maria Brandauer) and manage a dairy farm. But upon arrival, she learns that Bror has instead invested in a coffee plantation without consulting her. Their marriage is further strained by Bror’s womanizing and frequent absences.
As Karen gradually takes charge of the plantation and grows increasingly attached to the African land and people, she meets Denys Finch Hatton (Robert Redford), a charismatic, freedom-loving English big-game hunter. Unlike her husband, Denys is elusive, idealistic, and wary of commitment. Despite their differences in temperament and philosophy, a deep and complicated romance blossoms between them.
Karen's time in Africa is shaped by personal evolution, the devastation of World War I, the slow erosion of her romantic hopes, and the eventual collapse of her colonial dream. The film concludes with Karen leaving Africa permanently, having lost her farm, her lover, and much of what she once believed she would find in this foreign land—but having gained something far deeper: self-knowledge and a profound connection to a place and a people.
Performances
Meryl Streep gives a masterclass in restraint and emotional depth. Her portrayal of Karen Blixen is layered—initially proud and reserved, but increasingly vulnerable and passionate. Streep’s Danish accent is precise without being distracting, and she conveys Karen’s inner evolution through subtle changes in posture, tone, and gaze. It is a performance grounded in intellect, loneliness, and longing.
Robert Redford, as Denys Finch Hatton, plays a romantic ideal—a rugged, philosophical adventurer who resists being domesticated. While Redford makes no attempt at a British accent (a common criticism), his relaxed presence and natural charisma lend Denys an air of quiet rebellion. His chemistry with Streep is understated but undeniable, contributing to the film’s slow-burning emotional arc.
Klaus Maria Brandauer offers a sharp counterpoint as Baron Bror Blixen. His portrayal is unapologetically arrogant, yet never entirely unsympathetic. He represents both the freedoms and failings of the colonial European male—a man who thrives in Africa because he can avoid responsibility and live untethered.
Direction and Style

Sydney Pollack approaches the material with a painterly eye and a classical sensibility. His direction is deliberately paced, focusing less on plot mechanics and more on mood, character, and setting. The film is structured as an elegy—nostalgic, reflective, and often mournful.
The cinematography by David Watkin is breathtaking. Shot largely on location in Kenya, the film’s visual language captures the vastness of the African landscape with almost reverent awe. Sun-drenched savannas, sweeping plains, and golden sunsets provide a majestic backdrop to Karen’s personal journey. The use of light and natural colour is integral to the film’s emotional texture.
Pollack also wisely avoids sensationalizing the romance or dramatizing the colonial adventure. Instead, he leans into introspection and atmosphere, allowing the emotional weight of loss and impermanence to gradually take hold.
Music
John Barry’s score is one of the film’s most enduring achievements—lush, mournful, and achingly beautiful. The main theme, with its sweeping orchestration, perfectly matches the film’s meditative tone. The use of Mozart (especially the Clarinet Concerto) adds a transcendent, spiritual layer to the narrative, suggesting a world of beauty and suffering beyond human control.
The score earned Barry an Academy Award and remains a defining example of how music can elevate a film from poignant to poetic.
Themes
Imperialism and Idealism: While Out of Africa is told from the perspective of a European woman, it cannot escape the moral and cultural ambiguities of colonialism. The African characters are mostly secondary, though their dignity and quiet resilience occasionally puncture the European characters’ illusions. The film acknowledges, if not fully interrogates, the tension between idealized love and exploitative power.
Freedom vs. Possession: The central conflict between Karen and Denys revolves around control and independence. Karen desires connection and stability, while Denys values his autonomy above all. Their doomed romance becomes a metaphor for the impossibility of owning what one most loves—be it a person, a place, or a dream.
Loss and Memory: The film is structured as a remembrance, with Blixen narrating her story from afar. It is not a tale of triumph but of wistful regret and spiritual fulfilment through hardship. The voice-over, adapted from Blixen’s own prose, lends the film an elegiac tone.
Nature as a Mirror of the Soul: The African landscape is not just a setting but a character—vast, unyielding, and beautiful. It reflects both the grandeur of Karen’s ambitions and the fragility of her illusions.
Cultural Reception and Legacy
Upon release, Out of Africa was both a critical and commercial success. It won seven Academy Awards, including Best Picture and Best Director, and was widely praised for its aesthetic beauty and emotional resonance.
However, it has also faced criticism over the years for its Eurocentric perspective and the marginalization of African voices. The native characters—particularly Farah (Malick Bowens), Karen’s loyal servant—are treated with affection but remain largely undeveloped. The film’s romanticizing of colonialism is subtle but present, reflective of both the source material and the cinematic conventions of its time.
Despite these criticisms, the film remains a significant work—a lyrical exploration of love, loss, and the human longing for connection across barriers of culture, time, and geography.
Final Verdict
Out of Africa is a film of rare emotional scope and visual splendour. It is a romance not just between two people, but between a person and a land—a meditation on the transience of beauty and the permanence of memory. Led by two luminous stars and orchestrated with grace by Sydney Pollack, the film is both a sweeping epic and a deeply personal memoir.
A slow-burning, visually majestic, and emotionally haunting masterpiece of 1980s cinema.
