Text: Julie Schwietert Collazo
Che photo: Brayan Collazo Alonso
40 Napoles photo: Francisco Collazo
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Fifty years ago, Fidel Castro and his ragtag group of guerrillas rode into Havana triumphant after having provoked dictator Fulgencio Batista to abandon Cuba.
Central to the “triumph of the revolution,” as it’s called in Cuba, was Ernesto “Che” Guevara, a handsome, asthmatic Argentinean doctor. Though born into relative wealth, Che’s travels throughout Latin America while still a medical resident exposed him to the region’s inequalities, and the profound impact poverty had–and still has, of course–on people’s physical and psychological health, as well as their political systems.
Che, like Fidel, is a controversial figure, revered by some as a revolutionary hero and reviled by others as an assassin. Yet more than 40 years after his death in rural Bolivia, where he was leading another revolution, Che remains a compelling character. His image has been preserved on t-shirts, he’s been the subject of numerous photographic exhibits, and, most recently, has continued to serve as a muse for film projects, including “The Motorcycle Diaries” and the eponymous epic film, “Che.”
Yesterday, we spent the afternoon watching the four hour+ long “Che,” directed by Steven Soderbergh. Though the film was scorned by scores of critics when it previewed at the Cannes Film Festival last year, we came away satisfied. Yes, the film is long and drawn out. (The sometimes uncomfortably long shots help give the viewer a sense of the discomfort, fear, and anxiety felt by the guerrillas). Yes, it’s intricate, detailed, with lots of characters who are likely to be hard to follow for those viewers who don’t know much about the revolution. But, admirably, the film veers away from glorifying either side in the decades old debate about Che. And for the astute, open-minded viewer who isn’t familiar with Latin American history and Cuban history in particular, the film makes it possible to begin to understand why revolutions occur and even why they’re needed sometimes.
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The movie opens in Mexico City, where Che and Fidel meet for the first time. Che lived there, in an apartment just around the corner from where we live, at 40 Napoles Street. Francisco and I went there last year, looking for history.
Today, there’s a restaurant in the storefront on the street level of the building. “No, I didn’t know El Che lived here,” one woman said, looking at us with a mixture of awe and surprise. “I heard something about that,” another woman said with a sense of uncertainty and indifference, “but no, I don’t know anyone who knew him.” We talked with a man who came out of the building, clearly tired of asking questions just because he lives in a modest building where a famous man once lived. “No se nada,” he said, walking away quickly. The Che trail ran cold quickly, as we decided against trespassing into the building.
It’s little wonder there’s not even a commemorative plaque on the building. Mexico’s relationship with Cuba, once strong, has become more strained in recent years, particuarly as more undocumented Cubans make their way onto the shores of the country’s east coast, and in so many ways, Mexico is attenuating its Cuban ties. Still, for those in the know, regardless of their political persuasions, it’s interesting to think that the revolution all started here….
Comments (4)
Thanks for this, Julie. I read a review last week, a rather unkind review. I intend to see the film, only Part 1 is available at present.
Your detective work outside Che’s old apartment: How cool! I’ve visiting former dwellings, but never had the nerve to speak to anyone.
Stevo- Yes, we were really lucky! We got to see both parts at the IFC Film Center in NYC. I don’t think you’ll miss out on anything by seeing the film in two parts (and your bladder will thank you).
Thanks for the review and the historical excursion.
I was riveted by the movie even though it was a lot of walking through the woods without much action in the mode Hollywood has led us to expect. Benicio del Toro was born to play Che.
However, I was left with more questions than answers to my curiosity about Che and the Cuban revolution. In Soderburgh’s defense (and, I supposed, in defense of Walter Salles and the Motorcycle Diaries as well) the movie was based on Che’s own notebooks and not intended to be a complete or neutral account. And even so it did retain a certain amount of moral ambiguity, as you say – perhaps Che was sophisticated enough of a thinker to be less than certain about his choices even to the end. But I was left wanting to see the parts that were omitted: the prisons, Africa, the missile crisis.
Maybe a movie is the wrong place to look for the full picture. I’ve picked up Jon Lee Anderson’s brick of a biography. We’ll see if that answers my questions.
Prentiss-
Thanks for your thoughtful comments.
Being left with more questions than answers… that’s how I feel about everything Cuban!
I’ve been to Cuba about 8 times now, and when I come back, I always tell people that I understand Cuba less and have many more questions. But I like this, in a way– it keeps me alert and thinking, questioning, and digging deeper, continually pushing myself to look beyond the established narratives about Cuba, the Revolution, Fidel, and Che (whether pro, con, or otherwise).
Soderbergh’s movie was as comprehensive as it could be, I think, and still retain any value. The foray to Bolivia was, in and of itself, worthy of a four hour epic, and the journey to Africa (which, as you noted, is not in Soderbergh’s movie)– well, that’s another story entirely, and one that’s been told fairly well, I think in a documentary that’s fantastic, if obscure, which, if memory serves, is called “Cuba in Africa.”
I look forward to hearing what you think about Anderson’s biography of Che.