Some Thoughts About Cuban Cinema/Cine Cubano en Mi Memoria

Text: Francisco Collazo
Photos: Francisco Collazo & Brayan Collazo
[vease abajo para la version en espanol]
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The 10th Havana Film Festival New York ended recently. This was my first time attending the activities, which were presented between April 16 and 23. Among the films presented, there were two short documentaries that were as familiar and vivid in my memory, as when I first saw them in Havana, perhaps at the end of the 1960s: “Now” and “Hanoi, martes 13,” both by Santiago Alvarez.

Since then, the themes that have predominated Cuban cinema are totally different. The films of the turbulent 60s and 70s concentrated primarily on celebrating the victories and accomplishments of the Cuban Revolution. But with the geopolitical changes of the 90s and the introduction of new digital technologies, including the Internet, along with the lack of state funds earmarked for the production of films, a new generation of independent filmmakers got their start. In their films, they explored all that interested and concerned them: homosexuality, racism, culture, prostitution, immigration, unemployment, and–above all–what “Cubanness” and revolution signified in an era of globalized commerce, communication, and ideology.

The majority of these new filmmakers were born after the Bay of Pigs invasion, after the Angolan War, and after the mass exodus of 120,000 Cubans from the port of Mariel in 1980. Their voices are different, though not necessarily contrary to the traditional school of Cuban cinema formed in the 60s and 70s. But more independent? Definitely.

The “Special Period” forced Cuba to restructure its economy, sending Cubans scrambling for immediate solutions. With respect to cinema, the emergence of the do-it-yourself style of the independent filmmakers may have seemed–at least superficially–contradictory to the established method of the filmmakers who came of age during the early years of the Revolution.

That generation had relied upon the financial support of the state, and their function, in turn, was to support the party line: to educate more than entertain. During that era, art and other forms of communication were all intended to channel the ideology of the “New Man,” capturing existing reality. For this reason, the cinema of the early post-Revolution period is known as “cine pobre” (“poor cinema”) or “cine triste” (“sad cinema”).

To make “cine pobre” was a mark of pride, almost, insisting that it wasn’t necessary to rely upon funding from corporations or from developed countries. And it was an equal mark of pride to reflect reality–however sad–because it communicated the true situation of the time, not just in Cuba, but in all of Latin America and throughout the Third World.

The break with the capitalist world was both a bane and a boon, because it sent filmmakers in search of their own image, their own exploration of “Cubanness,” molded from their own realities and without any external help or influence. It was cinema for national consumption in every sense. It’s from this reality that “New Cinema,” characterized by its minimal resources, enjoyed a surge, also influencing a cinematic renaissance in other parts of Latin America. Before 1959, there wasn’t an interest or an institution in Cuba that promoted this art form. Instead, it evolved and developed almost organically.

With new accords between countries that have supported the financing of production costs, Cuba has once again been compelled to adapt its cinematic identity. Rather than serving as its own benefactor and protagonist, it’s now taken on the role of the co-producer.

Cuban actors, Jorge Perugorria & Mirta Ibarra

The new New Cuban Cinema is compelled to produce films that can be understood globally by a public that’s quite different from the domestic audience, a public that primarily seeks entertainment first and anything else second. These changing circumstances have prompted an abrupt shift, putting Cuban cinema into direct competition with other film producers who possess far greater financial power and a great deal more experience.

The Cuban cinema of my memories taught me in every way: films with their far-away places, with strange people whose problems were incomprehensible in my own world. They were always fighting to survive and their heroes were anonymous; their themes too profound and abstract to truly be understood at such a young age. For this reason, I’ve been dedicating myself to the task of revisiting these films. Today, I watch them with different emotions, but they connect me to vivid years in Havana with the same sensory experience and sense of expansiveness that I felt back then. Distinct and different, as they say in Cuba!

Acaba de finalizar el 10mo Festival de Cine de La Habana en Nueva York. Por primera vez atendi a las actividades presentadas durante los dias 16-23 de Abril. Durante todo su programa solo dos documentales fueron muy familiares y vivos en mi memoria como cuando los vi en la Habana quizas a finales de los anos 60s: “Now” y “Hanoi, martes 13,” ambos de Santiago Alvarez.

Desde entonces y hasta esta fecha los temas que se presenta en la filmografia cubana son totalmente diferente, al menos en grados de lo que fue los anos turbulentos de los 60s y 70s donde en su mayoria se concentraban en celebrar las victorias y los logros de la revolucion cubana. Con los cambios geo-politicos de los 90s y la introduccion de la nueva tecnologia digital y el internet, unido a la escasez de los fondos estatales para la produccion y financiamiento de estos, les dio comienzo a un movimiento de cineastas independientes que todo les interesa y preocupa: homosexualidad, racismo, cultura, prostitucion, inmigracion, desempleo, y sobre todo eso, se preguntan que significa cubanidad y revolucion en tiempos como estos de globalizacion en comercio, comunicacion e ideologia.

Actor cubano, Enrique Molina

La mayoria de estos nuevos cineastas han nacido despues de la invasion de Playa Giron, la guerra de Angola e incluso la inmigracion de 120,000 cubanos por el puerto de Mariel en 1980. Su voz es diferente, pero no necesariamente contraria a la escuela de cine cubana de los 60s y 70s. Mas independientes, si.

El periodo especial obligo a Cuba a reestructurar su economia, buscando soluciones inmediatas que de una manera superficial parecen contradictorias a la linea establecida por los cineastas que al comienzo de la revolucion contaban con el apoyo financiero del estado que su funcion era apoyar la linea politica del estado y en educar mas que entretener. Durante esta epoca el arte y los medios de comunicacion estaban todos destinados al proposito de ideologizar al “Hombre Nuevo” de su realidad existente; debido a estos acercamientos muchos les llamaron a este “cine-pobre” o “cine-triste.” Sin embargo, se hace hincapie en aclarar que este es cine-pobre “por no contar con los fondos de las grandes firmas de los paises desarrollados” y “triste porque refleja la situacion actual existente no solo de Cuba sino de toda la americalatina y el tercer mundo.”

La ruptura con el mundo capitalista les obliga y les ayuda a la vez a buscar por si mismo una imagen propia de la cubanidad, moldeada en la realidad y sin ayuda exterior. Este es un cine para consumo nacional en todos sus sentidos. De aqui nace el “Nuevo Cine” de bajos recursos que emprende una nueva jornada e influye con sus esfuerzo a el nuevo cine latinoamericano. No es necesario decir que antes de 1959 no existia en Cuba un interes o una institucion que lo promoviera que podria decir que hasta hoy es un cine que se mueve por la necesidad milagrosa, mas que por su evolucion y desarrollo.

Con los nuevos convenios entre paises para poder financiar los gastos de produccion, Cuba ha tenido de nuevo que amoldarse, haciendo de este un papel de co-productor en vez de protagonista. Ya este Nuevo Cine cubano tiene que producir filmes que sean entendidos y comprendidos de una manera global para un publico muy diferente que en su mayoria busca el entretenimiento como primera regla y de todo lo demas despues. Por consiguiente dandole al cine cubano un salto brusco y poniendolo en competencia directa con las otras productoras de filmes con mucho mas poder financiero y mucha mas experiencia.

El cine de mi memoria me enseño en todos los sentidos, las peliculas de lugares lejanos, con gentes extranas y con problemas que en mi mundo eran incomprendibles. En ellos siempre estaban presente la lucha por la sobrevivencia y los heroes desconocidos. Muchas veces con temas muy profundos y astractos para ser entendidos a temprana edad. Debido a esto me he dado a la tarea de re-visitar esas cintas que hoy veo con emociones diferentes, pero me conectan a los anos vividos en La Habana. Una experiencia sensorial y visual de una magnitud tremenda. Distinta y diferente, como se dice en Cuba!