Cuba, Films: Barrio Cuba and Viva Cuba

The idea behind adding cinema to the project was to broaden the access to culture through exposure to multiple forms of its expression. When I made that decision, which then became a commitment by being enshrined in my sabbatical contract, I had no idea how difficult it would be to realize in practice.

Foreign films may seem like they are readily available - until you go looking for a specific film. Then, it is much harder to find exactly the one you are looking for. You are reduced to the small subset of films “someone” has decided the world should see. They are not always the films I wanted to see. That was the case with Cuba. You go to Google and there are lots of choices. But you can't find them and you are reduced to what Netflix offers. With Cuba, that is not much.

I watched Barrio Cuba and Viva Cuba. My guess is you have to put Cuba into the title to help with the marketing. Either of the films could have had different titles. Nonetheless both had some interesting things to say about life in Cuba.

Viva Cuba was more light-hearted. It was the story of a girl who's divorced mother was preparing to leave Cuba and take her daughter, Malu, with her. Malu is desperate to stay in Cuba and so she runs away with the help of her chum, Jorgito. They set off in search of her long-lost father, hoping he can prevent her departure.

Viva Cuba dealt honestly with issues of race and class separating Cubans. It did not sugarcoat the economic deprivation Cubans experience which makes them think of leaving. In general it was upbeat and had a ‘happy-ending’ facilitated by a character that seemed (to me) a lot like Ché (complete with motorcycle).

Except for the happy-ending Barrio Cuba was relentlessly downbeat.  It is the story of three families struggling to make it in Havana. And it is a struggle. Meager food supplies, substandard housing, alcoholism and hustling all feature prominently in a story where things just slide from difficult to worse. It is not the kind of film you would expect from a Leninist society’s film program. The panacea of exile features prominently and is presented as just that, a panacea.

Both films provide a sense of how Cubans see their lives - one that seemed a reasonable conclusion given what I saw while there. The only surprise to me was that distribution of this vision receives the tacit approval of the regime. Mild, indirect criticism as a relief valve?