Cuba remains an ideological battleground, a Rorschach test that has been interpreted as utopian or dystopian. To emphasize its people—even if it might be challenging to do so divorced from politics—seems the purpose of Academy Award–nominated director Hubert Sauper (Darwin’s Nightmare) in his latest documentary.

Among the many subjects that Sauper chooses to focus on in his exploration of the country is the importance of cinema, something that might surprise many. (The film would certainly appeal to Jean-Luc Godard.) Cinema is everywhere and considered an integral part of early education in schools—in how many countries is film treated as essential in education programs?

Cinema is also, obviously, a tool for propaganda and indoctrination. Cartoon artist Juan Padrón explain how American filmmakers made one-reelers immediately after the 1898 Spanish-American War of reenactments of U.S. forces liberating the country from Spain’s dominance. Almost as revenge, communist Cuba employed cinema conversely to criticize the United States.

This idea of cinema as a convenient means to shape reality is fundamental in understanding Sauper’s approach to the “reality” of Cuba. If Sauper had set out to discover a pure and innocent truth about Cubans untouched by ideological motivations, then it would have been an impossible task; Cubans have been taught in its educational system to talk in political terms, even in the most quotidian situations. Not even the children are excluded.

It is precisely the children who steal the spotlight in Epicentro—Sauper calls them “young prophets.” His conversations with them are rewarding because the kids flaunt an intelligence that is usually uncommon in boys and girls at their age in other countries. They play like children, but they imitate Charlie Chaplin, and they know a good deal about him. (It should be noted that Chaplin’s granddaughter—and actress—Oona  Castilla Chaplin, appears as an acting mentor for many of the kids.) They talk about history a lot, and they can discern mature meanings on subjects like race, capitalism, and imperialism.

These children are charismatic and persuasive interlocutors in a way that almost makes you forget that they have been exposed to political propaganda at a very young age. If a girl who dreams about becoming an actress speaks like an adult when tackling social issues, then an adult sounds like a child when addressing nearly the same subjects. The woman explains why capitalism is wrong and then confesses that her biggest dream is to visit Disneyland.

Everybody in Cuba talks about the past so much that you may wonder if this is the only safe conversational topic if they are not allowed to question their present openly. When the aforementioned woman mildly criticizes “our crazy times,” she quickly shouts to a passerby, “Nothing against Cuba,” as though a cop or an informer may report her. She laughs to the camera: “They are going to kill me.” You can’t tell where the joke ends and the fear begins.

Although Sauper’s documentary avoids any value judgment against Cuba’s government (a wise choice if he wants the film to be exhibited in Cuba, and Cubans deserves to watch this empathetic portrayal of them), the film spotlights the criticism of tourism as another form of colonization. An American who apparently lives there states that “tourists are the worst manifestation of a human being” because they are shallow consumers of history and culture. There is also a remarkable contrast between the expensive luxury hotels and the deteriorating conditions in which a large part of the population lives. This huge gap is best illustrated when Sauper manages to escort two children into a hotel for them to swim in a lavish pool.

Epicentro is an essential watch for anyone interested in present-day Cuba, its future, and its fascinating contradictions. Sauper has not attained a definitive truth about the island. Instead, he finds that “utopia” could be any place where cinema can imagine it, and for him, Cuba is the right place to start.