The following is one of the entries from my list of the 100 greatest films (through 2006) from Africa, Latin America & the Caribbean, which I invite you to visit on this site if you haven’t already done so. — Dennis
Ten years after the Revolution deposed Batista, Lucía, by Humberto Solás, expressed hopefulness of the future. Depicting progressive changes in Cuba over more than half a century, the film’s formal design—three episodes, each in its own visual style, showing the role of Cuban women at three different times—implies quantum leaps in political consciousness. Lucía adheres to the dictum that a woman’s lot reflects a nation’s value.
In the case of Cuba, that lot is marked against entrenched patriarchy and socially rampant machismo, one source of which is Spanish culture. The first Lucía is embroiled in a well-heeled romantic melodrama in colonial times, their late nineteenth-century romance at the mercy of her lover’s whims, and the period sets, costumes and florid attitudes—betrayal and madness figure in—correlative to the entrapment of history. In the next, tragic episode, romance strikes out at another Lucía’s insulated world as the political ground underneath the Caribbean island begins to shift. Society-maiden Lucía falls in love with a guerrilla fighter and joins Cuba’s war of independence from Spain. The idea of independence resonates on different levels as the personal and the national cross, resulting in the kind of “intimate epic” that Gone with the Wind (Victor Fleming et al., 1939) failed to achieve due to its intellectual vacuity and sentimental compromises. In the final episode, a third Lucía has yet more sociopolitical distance to cover. After the Castro revolution, then what? Progress is being made throughout the island, but Lucía’s spouse, who at times keeps her (literally) locked up, is resistant to any tampering with his male prerogatives. For Solás, “revolution” must be an ongoing thing, and education is the key.
The lukewarm mush of Solás’s recent Miel para Oshún (2001) begs the question: Is the Cuban Revolution dead in the water?
B(U)Y THE BOOK
MY BOOK, A Short Chronology of World Cinema, IS CURRENTLY AVAILABLE FROM THE SANDS FILMS CINEMA CLUB IN LONDON. USING EITHER OF THE LINKS BELOW, ACCESS THE ADVERTISEMENT FOR THIS BOOK, FROM WHICH YOU CAN ORDER ONE OR MORE COPIES OF IT. THANKS.
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Dennis+Grunes&x=14&y=16
http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Dennis+Grunes&x=14&y=19
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LUCÍA (Humberto Solás, 1968)
The following is one of the entries from my list of the 100 greatest films (through 2006) from Africa, Latin America & the Caribbean, which I invite you to visit on this site if you haven’t already done so. — Dennis
Ten years after the Revolution deposed Batista, Lucía, by Humberto Solás, expressed hopefulness of the future. Depicting progressive changes in Cuba over more than half a century, the film’s formal design—three episodes, each in its own visual style, showing the role of Cuban women at three different times—implies quantum leaps in political consciousness. Lucía adheres to the dictum that a woman’s lot reflects a nation’s value.
In the case of Cuba, that lot is marked against entrenched patriarchy and socially rampant machismo, one source of which is Spanish culture. The first Lucía is embroiled in a well-heeled romantic melodrama in colonial times, their late nineteenth-century romance at the mercy of her lover’s whims, and the period sets, costumes and florid attitudes—betrayal and madness figure in—correlative to the entrapment of history. In the next, tragic episode, romance strikes out at another Lucía’s insulated world as the political ground underneath the Caribbean island begins to shift. Society-maiden Lucía falls in love with a guerrilla fighter and joins Cuba’s war of independence from Spain. The idea of independence resonates on different levels as the personal and the national cross, resulting in the kind of “intimate epic” that Gone with the Wind (Victor Fleming et al., 1939) failed to achieve due to its intellectual vacuity and sentimental compromises. In the final episode, a third Lucía has yet more sociopolitical distance to cover. After the Castro revolution, then what? Progress is being made throughout the island, but Lucía’s spouse, who at times keeps her (literally) locked up, is resistant to any tampering with his male prerogatives. For Solás, “revolution” must be an ongoing thing, and education is the key.
The lukewarm mush of Solás’s recent Miel para Oshún (2001) begs the question: Is the Cuban Revolution dead in the water?
B(U)Y THE BOOK
MY BOOK, A Short Chronology of World Cinema, IS CURRENTLY AVAILABLE FROM THE SANDS FILMS CINEMA CLUB IN LONDON. USING EITHER OF THE LINKS BELOW, ACCESS THE ADVERTISEMENT FOR THIS BOOK, FROM WHICH YOU CAN ORDER ONE OR MORE COPIES OF IT. THANKS.
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Dennis+Grunes&x=14&y=16
http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Dennis+Grunes&x=14&y=19
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This entry was posted on November 14, 2007 at 9:02 am and is filed under Formal Capsule Film Comments. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.