I Am Cuba

No less than thirty shots have been ripped off from this movie in the past five years, in films like Out of Sight, Boogie Nights, and Pulp Fiction. Watching "I Am Cuba" is an education in film technique and the beauty of the eponymous country. The picture's plot is abysmal. It is an exercise in cinematography. It is among the most influential movies, style-wise, that the American public has never seen and honestly brilliant on all terms.

Imagine taking a tour of Cuba, in 1964, through the eyes of four metaphors: luxury, poverty, revolution, and vagrancy. Times are changing, the country is changing. However, no matter how much anything changes, the sun-soaked gorgeousness of the land doesn't budge. The camera glides around like a member of the tour who has gone off on his own, looking at the four principles.

I Am Cuba is film that needs no hyperbole. It Is Great

One of the advantages of making a propaganda film in communist countries is that you have full support of the government that you are favoring. With that in mind, it's no wonder that a film of this magnitude could be made only in a communist country (before it went bankrupt). Soy Cuba surprises the viewer over and over again as you expect the camera to cut, and just as you expect it to, it doesn't and whoosh, you're underwater, or you've just flown out a window and hover above a funeral procession of massive proportions. I ponder the planning it must have taken to concoct such long takes with each moment so thoughtfully planned out. As much as most people will credit this film with fabulous cinematography (which it arguably has), it is a direct result of the complex direction by Mikheil Kalatozishvili that gives the film its flow and strength. Long takes become boring if the rhythm of the film is not well choreographed (some Tarkovsky films have this problem, but not all). Soy Cuba is never boring. Of course, what is most interesting is to see Havana in all it's beauty just after Fidel's revolution and then to contrast that with the Cuba seen in Buena Vista Social Club. It says it all about the politics of this film. This one is purely worth watching for the choreography and cinematography, not for the silly ideology. This is required viewing for all filmmakers.

It goes without saying that this movie includes some of the most breathtaking camera-work ever seen. Many scenes will live long in the memory of anyone who's been fortunate enough to see it. But it seems to be downgraded in many peoples minds by the notion of it being a propaganda movie.

I think its misleading to think of the movie as being 'propaganda' any more than most mainstream movies can be seen as propaganda for a particular way of life or viewpoint. The portrayal of the American characters in I Am Cuba is in many ways more fair-minded than numerous Hollywood or British movies (in the case of James Bond) in the portrayal of Communists or any other perceived enemy. Even anti war movies such as Platoon or Saving Private Ryan frequently portray the 'enemy' as faceless figures who are killed without a thought.

I prefer to see this movie as a love letter to Cuba by some brilliant (but undoubtedly naive) Soviet film makers. The storyline is much more sophisticated and innovative than has been given credit. Many of the characters are stereotypes, but they are still sympathetic and real. The movie is by no means perfect, but to dismiss it as beautiful propaganda is i think to underestimate the skill and thoughtfulness of the team who made it. By overemphasizing the origin of the movie has I think killed the enjoyment of it for many viewers. Just go see it and enjoy the sumptuous imagery. If you want to dismiss it as propaganda, fine, but if it to be seen as propaganda, then so is most of Hollywoods output.

I am Cuba/Soy Cuba features the stories of several Cuban citizen-types: a young prostitute, a farmer, a young revolutionary and so on, up to the start of the island's Castro Revolution.

If this sounds dull, then rest assured that the plot is minimal and, despite it's avowedly political purpose, hardly gets in the way of the film's main attractions today. What distinguishes the production is the cinematography. It is not an exaggeration to say that the images and technique in the film are breathtaking, and it is a tour-de-force of bravura camera work. Apparently Martin Scorcese has screened this film privately to work out how such-and-such a shot was achieved, and perhaps it's influence can be found in the famous through-the-kitchens tracking shot in 'Goodfellas'.

This is a film where the camera is constantly in motion, with sweeping balletic long takes, crane and hand held shots, tracking shots, including some over and down the side of buildings, through cane fields, into swimming pools, around packed night clubs, even hovering and moving along high over a street in the middle of a packed funeral procession - all without the usual cutting. I estimate the average length of a take in this film at about 2 - 3 minutes, a figure rare and astonishing these days, even with the benefit of steadicams - but jaw dropping given the still-unwieldy equipment they were surely using in 1964. In particular one or two large scale sequences must have taken days, if not weeks, to prepare, and presumably needed government marshaling to choreograph. (Ironically, whether or not the film makers intended it, the liberated camera work on display here reflects the notion of revolutionary freedom far more than the actual story vignettes.)

The film itself is shot in high contrast gleaming black and white, favouring wide angle lenses, and with a constant deep focus that reminded me of Greg Toland's work for Welles or some of James Wong Howes' work. Kalatozov's use of a handful of character 'types' throughout recalls Eisenstein's (and in fact there is a faint reference to his the Odessa Steps sequence in 'Battleship Potemkin' at one point when the revolutionary rioters march down some steps), but the effect here is far more sensual and lyrical. (Among the professional actors, Sergio Corrieri also appears in the better-known Memories of Underdevelopment). The film's 'artiness' is undeniably a distraction from the message of struggle, and to the original viewers the beautiful images must have been a long way from reality in the New Cuba.

Today we don't have this problem and the viewer is left with a visual feast to enjoy over and over again..

Every frame of this film deserves to be printed, framed and hung in a gallery. And the sound, wow. The sound... Crunchy super-intimate sounds- like the sound of machetes ringing in the cane field- are as evocative as the images.

1964. It's amazing how much can be done with so little...