Fidel Castro "a demon or a symbol of resistance and social justice?"
October 18, 2002
A Selective Portrait of Castro and Cuba's Revolution
By A. O. SCOTT
source: http://www.nytimes.com/2002/10/18/movies/18FIDE.html?pagewanted=print&position=top
Estela Bravo's new documentary, "Fidel," poses an apparently straightforward question. Is its subject, Fidel Castro, who has ruled Cuba since 1959, "a demon or a symbol of resistance and social justice"? But the phrasing of the question gives away the answer: this is an exercise not in biography but in hero worship.
Ms. Bravo has done some impressive research, unearthing archival photographs and film of Mr. Castro and interviewing many of his friends and comrades, but to call her presentation of the man and his revolution one-sided would be an understatement. "Fidel" resembles nothing so much as the work of a second-rate Renaissance court painter devoted to the flattery of the subject rather than the accuracy of the portrait.
At one point, the American novelist Alice Walker, with sublime soft-headedness, marvels that Mr. Castro cannot dance or sing. "It's a good thing he's got all those other good qualities," she says. (Later, she compares him to a redwood tree.) This is about the harshest criticism Ms. Bravo permits, and one wonders just which good qualities Ms. Walker had in mind. The persecution of homosexuals? The silencing of political opposition? The jailing of dissidents?
"Fidel," which opens today in New York, rules such issues inadmissible, and this is a shame. A balanced assessment of Cuba's revolution, which has survived the collapse of socialism and four decades of American efforts to reverse and obstruct it, would be fascinating and important.
But for Ms. Bravo and the staunch partisans who populate her film, Mr. Castro must be either a monster or a saint. The possibility that he is both — or that he is neither, but rather a complex and contradictory historical figure — cannot be entertained. The film holds fast to one of the sorrier traditions of the left: the belief that any expression of doubt about the virtue of a revolutionary regime can only play into the hands of its enemies, and so must be suppressed.
The history recounted in "Fidel" is not entirely worthless and is at least a starting point for consideration of the complex, entwined but not entirely congruent histories of the cold war and the struggles for self-determination in the post-colonial world. The Bay of Pigs and the missile crisis of 1962 receive due attention, as does Mr. Castro's sponsorship of various third world insurgencies. Nelson Mandela credits Cuba's intervention in the Angolan civil war with hastening the end of South African apartheid. All of this, as well as domestic achievements in education and health care, are certainly part of Mr. Castro's record, just as the wiliness, wit and resilience evident in speeches and interviews are part of his character.
Doggedly and single-mindedly, Ms. Bravo insists that there are no other sides. While Mr. Castro's travels are duly chronicled, the Mariel boatlift goes entirely unmentioned. We do catch a glimpse of a few people setting off on a makeshift raft, but the film never bothers to ask why anyone would risk exposure, drowning and shark attacks to get away from Mr. Castro's social justice. A number of revolutionary fighters offer touching reminiscences, but the experiences of those who fought in the revolution and were later betrayed or victimized by it is wiped from the record.
It is hardly surprising that Ms. Bravo does not interview any of Mr. Castro's die-hard enemies, but she conveniently pretends that the only opposition to his rule has come from right-wing exiles and the Central Intelligence Agency. The heartbreak that so often follows revolutionary enthusiasm — a phenomenon movingly illuminated, for instance, in the writings of Reinaldo Arenas and in "Before Night Falls," Julian Schnabel's film biography of Arenas — is rendered nonexistent by this movie, which admits of no nuance, no ambiguity, no argument. This is bad cinema and bad history. Ms. Bravo is unstinting in her praise for the omelet and her admiration of the chef, but she refuses to admit that she's walking on eggshells.
FIDEL
Directed by Estela Bravo; in English and Spanish, with English subtitles; directors of photography, Roberto Chile and Kevin Keating; edited by David Frankel, Monica Henriquez and Fermin Gonzalez; music by Frank Fernandez; produced by Elizabeth Beer; released by First Run Features. Running time: 91 minutes. This film is not rated.
WITH: Fidel Castro, Nelson Mandela, Elián Gonzalez, the Buena Vista Social Club, Alice Walker, Sydney Pollack, Ted Turner, Muhammed Ali, Harry Belafonte, Arthur Schlesinger Jr., Charles B. Rangel, Ramsey Clark, Wayne Smith and Gabriel García Márquez.
October 18, 2002
A Selective Portrait of Castro and Cuba's Revolution
By A. O. SCOTT
source: http://www.nytimes.com/2002/10/18/movies/18FIDE.html?pagewanted=print&position=top
Estela Bravo's new documentary, "Fidel," poses an apparently straightforward question. Is its subject, Fidel Castro, who has ruled Cuba since 1959, "a demon or a symbol of resistance and social justice"? But the phrasing of the question gives away the answer: this is an exercise not in biography but in hero worship.
Ms. Bravo has done some impressive research, unearthing archival photographs and film of Mr. Castro and interviewing many of his friends and comrades, but to call her presentation of the man and his revolution one-sided would be an understatement. "Fidel" resembles nothing so much as the work of a second-rate Renaissance court painter devoted to the flattery of the subject rather than the accuracy of the portrait.
At one point, the American novelist Alice Walker, with sublime soft-headedness, marvels that Mr. Castro cannot dance or sing. "It's a good thing he's got all those other good qualities," she says. (Later, she compares him to a redwood tree.) This is about the harshest criticism Ms. Bravo permits, and one wonders just which good qualities Ms. Walker had in mind. The persecution of homosexuals? The silencing of political opposition? The jailing of dissidents?
"Fidel," which opens today in New York, rules such issues inadmissible, and this is a shame. A balanced assessment of Cuba's revolution, which has survived the collapse of socialism and four decades of American efforts to reverse and obstruct it, would be fascinating and important.
But for Ms. Bravo and the staunch partisans who populate her film, Mr. Castro must be either a monster or a saint. The possibility that he is both — or that he is neither, but rather a complex and contradictory historical figure — cannot be entertained. The film holds fast to one of the sorrier traditions of the left: the belief that any expression of doubt about the virtue of a revolutionary regime can only play into the hands of its enemies, and so must be suppressed.
The history recounted in "Fidel" is not entirely worthless and is at least a starting point for consideration of the complex, entwined but not entirely congruent histories of the cold war and the struggles for self-determination in the post-colonial world. The Bay of Pigs and the missile crisis of 1962 receive due attention, as does Mr. Castro's sponsorship of various third world insurgencies. Nelson Mandela credits Cuba's intervention in the Angolan civil war with hastening the end of South African apartheid. All of this, as well as domestic achievements in education and health care, are certainly part of Mr. Castro's record, just as the wiliness, wit and resilience evident in speeches and interviews are part of his character.
Doggedly and single-mindedly, Ms. Bravo insists that there are no other sides. While Mr. Castro's travels are duly chronicled, the Mariel boatlift goes entirely unmentioned. We do catch a glimpse of a few people setting off on a makeshift raft, but the film never bothers to ask why anyone would risk exposure, drowning and shark attacks to get away from Mr. Castro's social justice. A number of revolutionary fighters offer touching reminiscences, but the experiences of those who fought in the revolution and were later betrayed or victimized by it is wiped from the record.
It is hardly surprising that Ms. Bravo does not interview any of Mr. Castro's die-hard enemies, but she conveniently pretends that the only opposition to his rule has come from right-wing exiles and the Central Intelligence Agency. The heartbreak that so often follows revolutionary enthusiasm — a phenomenon movingly illuminated, for instance, in the writings of Reinaldo Arenas and in "Before Night Falls," Julian Schnabel's film biography of Arenas — is rendered nonexistent by this movie, which admits of no nuance, no ambiguity, no argument. This is bad cinema and bad history. Ms. Bravo is unstinting in her praise for the omelet and her admiration of the chef, but she refuses to admit that she's walking on eggshells.
FIDEL
Directed by Estela Bravo; in English and Spanish, with English subtitles; directors of photography, Roberto Chile and Kevin Keating; edited by David Frankel, Monica Henriquez and Fermin Gonzalez; music by Frank Fernandez; produced by Elizabeth Beer; released by First Run Features. Running time: 91 minutes. This film is not rated.
WITH: Fidel Castro, Nelson Mandela, Elián Gonzalez, the Buena Vista Social Club, Alice Walker, Sydney Pollack, Ted Turner, Muhammed Ali, Harry Belafonte, Arthur Schlesinger Jr., Charles B. Rangel, Ramsey Clark, Wayne Smith and Gabriel García Márquez.