|
Reviews of Recent Independent, Foreign, & Documentary Films in Theaters and DVD/Home Video
CHE A huge subject for a huge film, so big that this historical epic will be released in two parts in January: the guerilla efforts of Argentine-born Ernesto Che Guevara to overthrown the Fulgencio Batista dictatorship in Cuba (Che Part 1: The Argentine) and then his uphill campaign to spread communism to Bolivia (Che Part 2: Guerrilla), all in over four hours. The complete film premieres today in a roadshow version presentation in New York and Los Angeles, with a special edition program guide and a 30-minute intermission. Given that roadshows, in their 1960s heyday, featured safely commercial fare (Doctor Doolittle, anyone?), it seems strange (and a bit cheeky) to have such an engagement for a movie about a man who was a bane for both the Kennedy and Johnson administrations. Since the film intimately follows Guevara and his troops, whether attacking an army barracks or surviving an ambush, it will be hard not to identify with their cause, even in South Florida. But as daring as the behemoth running time, the film’s boldest move is the more saint-than-sinner depiction of the doctor-turned-revolutionary. The first scenes of the asthmatic Guevara wheezing in the Cuban jungle belie what’s to come. Besides a fighter, he’s an aloof but loving paternal figure to his troops, nursing the wounded, and ordering all of his troops to learn how to read and write. Like a stern father, he orders a soldier not to nap but to do his math homework instead, and settles disputes among his men that resemble sibling squabbles. Dense with incident, the methodical and intelligently written script plunges into the political, with succinct discussions of agrarian and educational reform, and still keeps the action moving. Underneath the socialist rhetoric, Che is a war film. The emphasis on the brotherhood of the ragtag rebels wouldn’t be out of place in a 1940s war film—the key to Guevara’s success in Cuba, he tells an interviewer, is that a revolutionary needs great feelings of love to succeed, the love for justice and truth. Throughout, his men (and a few women) are portrayed with enough details to keep the huge cast straight. With dozens of subplots, Soderbergh amazingly retains clarity. But Guevara almost gets crowded out by the broader canvass of the revolution. Soderbergh is equally interested in the Everyman, and he has dozens. (Reflecting the international cast, the Spanish accents range from Colombian to Nuyorican.) Vignettes of peasants caught between government-backed forces and armed rebels, or the camaraderie, are as compelling as the strictly doctrinaire disciplinarian Guevara. And the scenery almost overwhelms the story. Here Soderbergh adheres to the convention of the historical epic. The widescreen Cuban scenes were filmed in a vividly verdant Mexico. The second half, in standard screen size (1:85), was photographed with a smooth handheld camera, subtly suggesting the unraveling of Guevara’s guerilla campaign. It also recalls the endless treks of an earlier roadshow, Spartacus, with scene after scene of Guevara and his men marching further into the mountains. (The drawn-out last hour is really one long showdown, set in the Bolivian mountains where special forces, trained by the United States, have trapped Guevara and his dwindling troops.) By focusing
on Guevara’s rise as a rebel fighter and then his last stand, the script
leaves out the most contentious middle of his bio, the communist
crackdown in Cuba, though he unapologetically confirms at the United
Nations that there have been executions and that there will be more. The
screenwriters made a smart move to narrow their focus. However, in one
seating, the roadshow’s running time further diffuses the film.
Especially in Guerilla, Soderbergh really takes his time in
establishing the interwoven sequences. But because of each half's low-key,
steadily building momentum, the entire film is just as well suited
to the small screen (especially if time is a major consideration).
Kent Turner
|
