Buena Vista Social Club

When I rented Buena Vista Social Club I didn't have any appreciation for the type of music played by the Club; I still don't know what it's called. I rented the movie because I'm a Ry Cooder fan, and have seen some Wim Wenders' movies I liked. I wasn't expecting much, but the result is that I've just seen one of the best documentaries in my life. The premise is very simple, it's all about the old musicians and the wonderful music they make. You get to visit their modest homes, hang out in their neighborhoods, and listen to their music. Nothing more than that, but done so well, so effortlessly, you wish you could step through the screen and join them. I would recommend this film to anyone.

I just got to see this on video last night. It's a lovely film, and the protagonists are memorable. My one problem, however, is with Ry Cooder. Don't misunderstand my admiration for Cooder's past work. He's an original, often evocative guitarist and composer. I just felt that his additions to these recordings -- both in the studio and in their concert versions -- were intrusive at the least. That wailing slide guitar just about ruined some great songs. I'm surprised the gentlemen and ladies of the band didn't say anything. It was a relief when he sat out of a performance. I really wanted to jump into the film, tap him on the shoulder and ask him to put down his guitar and just sit behind the mixing board!

OK. That's my rant. This is an impressive and lovely film.

If you have a chance, track down 1997's Black Tears (lagrimas Negras).

Loving Wim as I do, I was intrigued to see what he could achieve with this group of stellar musicians.

In a word, Greatness.

Having this group of warm, vital and oh so talented people sure helped him out. What is captured, for me, is the incredible staying power of true, heart felt music. These people sing, play and dance with a sense of worship. Having seen many hard times and passed through trials and tribulations (that we in the US have little understanding for) these people through faith and belief, persevered and continue to shine like diamonds.

Wim also conveys an old world beauty in a place run over by westernization. The surf smacking the coast line and spraying the ol' 50's cars racing down the road. The streets at night dimly lit, allowing the colors to permeate your senses. You feel like you can taste the blues and touch the pinks. The bright afternoon sun, sparkling among the ruin of buildings long forgotten to some but revered still by others. A magical yet very real place is given to us to explore in this film. I, along with many others, have an overwhelming urge to go to Cuba now and experience for myself.

If you have a chance to see any of these musicians live, DO SO! You will not be disappointed. If you do not, see this movie and get yourself a taste that will leave you breathless for more.

Besides the sones, guarachas and boleros (basic styles of good-old Cuban music), the beauty of this documentary relies on Wim Wenders' magnificent camera use.

It is impossible not to feel the emotion of the crowded Carnegie Hall in the climax scenes, but there are also many other images that carry the viewer to more intimate experiences of La Habana, its music and musicians. Wenders' camera takes us to the Conservatory, where pianist Ruben Gonzalez rehearses surrounded by children; or to the Egrem Recording Studio, where singers Ibrahim Ferrer and Omara Portuondo look at each other's eyes while rendering one of the most beautiful boleros I've heard in my life.

So a man who chases an enthusiasm for Cuban music and ends up spending his own resources to record and popularize a bunch of musicians who would have died in obscurity otherwise, takes great pains to present the music in a relatively unaltered state (unlike some such other world music experimenters like Sting and Paul Simon), and even removes much of his own contributions from the recording mix, is a self-aggrandizing cultural imperialist. The proof of the man's real intentions lies on the disc, an understated and moving documentation of a era that got plowed under by the cold war.

As for the film, indeed it's not perfect. It would be nice to have full songs, but they decided not to go with a strict concert film and concentrate on the project and the stories behind it. If you want more, the CD is easily available and highly recommended. When I saw this movie at the Lincoln Plaza cinema in Manhattan, I decided when the movie ended to trek over a few blocks to the local record store to see if they had the Cd in stock, As I walked down the street, I noticed that most of the people who had just seen the film were going the same way, and indeed, appeared to have the same idea I did (it was a packed show, by the way). It is perhaps a weakness of the film that it depends on the album for it's interest and power, but it is a loving document of the process.