Che: Revolución

It helps to know that this was originally brought to life as a Terrence Malick screenplay about Che's disastrous forray in Bolivia. Financing fell through and Soderbergh stepped in to direct. He conceived a first part and shot both back to back as one film trailing Che's rise and fall.

He retained however what I believe would be Malick's approach: no politics and a just visual poem about the man behind the image, exhaustive as the horrible slog through Cuban jungles and windswept Andean plateaus must have been. Malick applied this to his New World that he abandoned Che for, lyrical many times over.

But Soderbergh being an ambitious filmmaker, he puzzled over this a little more. Here was a man of action at the center of many narratives about him, some fashioned by himself, conflictingly reported as iconic revolutionary or terrorist, charismatic leader or ruthless thug, erudite Marxist thinker or brutal soldier.

So how to visually exemplify this contradicting ethos as our film about him? And how to arrange a world around this person in such a way as to absorb him whole, unfettered from narrative - but writing it as he goes along - off camera - but ironically on - and as part of that world where narratives are devised to explain him. As flesh and bones, opposed to a cutout from a history book.

One way to do this, would be via Brecht and artifice. The Korda photograph would reveal lots, how we know people from images, how we build narratives from them. Eisenstein sought the same in a deeper way, coming up with what he termed the 'dialectical montage': a world assembled by the eye, and in such ways as the eye aspires to create it.

So what Soderbergh does, is everything by halves: a dialectic between two films trailing opposite sides of struggle, glory and failure, optimism and despair. Two visual palettes, two points of view in the first film, one in the presence of cameras hoping to capture the real person, the other were that image was being forged in action.

The problem, is of course that Brecht and Eisenstein made art in the hope to change the world, to awaken consciousness, Marxist art with its trappings. By now we have grown disillusioned with the idea, and Soderbergh makes no case and addresses no present struggles.

But we still have the cinematic essay about all this.

The first part: a narrative broadcast from real life, meant to reveal purpose, ends, revolution. The second part: we get to note in passing a life that is infinitely more expansive than any story would explain, more complex, beautiful, frustrating, and devoid of any apparent purpose other than what we choose as our struggle, truly a guerilla life.

I imagine a tremendous film from these notions. Just notice the remarkable way Part 2 opens. Che arrives at Bolivia in disguise, having shed self and popular image. No longer minister, spokesman, diplomat, guerilla, he is an ordinary man lying on a hotel bed, one among many tourists. Life could be anything once more, holds endless possibility. Cessation.

What does he do? He begins to fashion the same narrative as before, revolution again. Chimera this time. Transient life foils him in Bolivia. Instead of changing the world once more, he leaves behind a story of dying for it. We have a story about it as our film, adding to the rest.

Ironically the most talked-about American film in the 2008 New York Film Festival is 98% in Spanish. The extra-long film's controversy began at the Cannes Festival. There were love-hate notices, and considerable doubts about commercial prospects. As consolation the star, Benicio Del Toro, got the Best Actor award there. I'm talking about Steven Soderbergh's 'Che,' of course. That's the name it's going by in this version, shown in New York as at Cannes in two 2-hour-plus segments without opening title or end credits. 'Che' is certainly appropriate since Ernesto "Che" Guevara is in almost every scene. Del Toro is impressive, hanging in reliably through thick and thin, from days of glorious victory in part one to months of humiliating defeat in part two, appealing and simpatico in all his varied manifestations, even disguised as a bald graying man to sneak into Bolivia. It's a terrific performance; one wishes it had a better setting.

If you are patient enough to sit through the over four hours, with an intermission between the two sections, there are rewards. There's an authentic feel throughout--fortunately Soderbergh made the decision to film in Spanish (though some of the actors, oddly enough in the English segments especially, are wooden). You get a good outline of what guerrilla warfare, Che style, was like: the teaching, the recruitment of campesinos, the morality, the discipline, the hardship, and the fighting--as well as Che's gradual morphing from company doctor to full-fledged military leader. Use of a new 9-pound 35 mm-quality RED "digital high performance cine camera" that just became available in time for filming enabled DP Peter Andrews and his crew to produce images that are a bit cold, but at times still sing, and are always sharp and smooth.

The film is in two parts--Soderbergh is calling them two "films," and the plan is to release them commercially as such. First is The Argentine, depicting Che's leadership in jungle and town fighting that led up to the fall of Havana in the late 50's, and the second is Guerrilla, and concerns Che's failed effort nearly a decade later in Bolivia to spearhead a revolution, a fruitful mission that led to Guevara's capture and execution in 1967. The second part was to have been the original film and was written first and, I think, shot first. Producer Laura Bickford says that part two is more of a thriller, while part one is more of an action film with big battle scenes. Yes, but both parts have a lot in common--too much--since both spend a large part of their time following the guerrillas through rough country. Guerrilla an unmitigated downer since the Bolivian revolt was doomed from the start. The group of Cubans who tried to lead it didn't get a friendly reception from the Bolivian campesinos, who suspected foreigners, and thought of the Cuban communists as godless rapists. There is a third part, a kind of celebratory black and white interval made up of Che's speech at the United Nations in 1964 and interviews with him at that time, but that is inter-cut in the first segment. The first part also has Fidel and is considerably more upbeat, leading as it does to the victory in Santa Clara in 1959 that led to the fall of the dictatorship of Fulgencio Batista in Cuba.

During 'Guerilla' I kept thinking how this could indeed work as a quality European-style miniseries, which might begin with a shortened version of Walter Salles's 'Motorcycle Diaries' and go on to take us to Guevara's fateful meeting with Fidel in Mexico and enlistment in the 26th of July Movement. There could be much more about his extensive travels and diplomatic missions. This is far from a complete picture of the man, his childhood interest in chess, his lifelong interest in poetry, the books he wrote; even his international fame is only touched on. And what about his harsh, cruel side? Really what Soderbergh is most interested in isn't Che, but revolution, and guerrilla warfare. The lasting impression that the 4+ hours leave is of slogging through woods and jungle with wounded and sick men and women and idealistic dedication to a the cause of ending the tyranny of the rich. Someone mentioned being reminded of Terrence Malick's 'The Tin Red Line,' and yes, the meandering, episodic battle approach is similar; but 'The Thin Red Line' has stronger characters (hardly anybody emerges forcefully besides Che), and it's a really good film. This is an impressive, but unfinished and ill-fated, effort.

This 8-years-gestating, heavily researched labor of love (how many more Ocean's must come to pay for it?) is a vanity project, too long for a regular theatrical release and too short for a miniseries. Radical editing--or major expansion--would have made it into something more successful, and as it is it's a long slog, especially in the second half.

It's clear that this slogging could have been trimmed down, though it's not so clear what form the resulting film would have taken--but with a little bit of luck it might have been quite a good one.

He was a revolutionary fighter, a doctor, a social philosopher and a martyr who turned to armed warfare as a 'necessary' means of stamping out the foreign complexities, poverty and injustice that had bled South America for centuries. He was a Marxist, a writer, a guerrilla and a diplomat who rose to prominence as a leader of Fidel Castro's radical '26th of July Movement': a left wing political party that launched an armed invasion of Cuba rapt on toppling U.S backed dictator Fulgencio Batista. This historical revolt: the focal point of director Steven Soderbergh's enduring, coarse and superbly crafted part one of two biopic. A sometimes bitty, sometimes brilliant hand-held epic that succeeds in its failure to fall into the consumer culture camp that's exploited Ernesto 'Che' Guevara's image now for so long.

Steven Soderbergh refrains, then, from counteracting the magnitude of Che: Part One's dense political platform by ramping up the fireworks. This wont appeal to mainstream viewers. This is not a Cuban Braveheart. This is not some twisted Scarface prequel. There will be no post-movie pop-art. Che: Part One is an intelligent and vital take on the man behind the myth not a balls-to-the-wall action spectacle blaring with blood, bullets and CGI. It's a thorough and naturalistic treatise on iconic human drive and endeavour that infrequently shuttles between monochrome and Technicolor, between Che Guevara's 1964 delegation at the UN headquarters and time spent trudging through the Cuban jungle.

If your understanding of certain political ideals and movements are, at best, hazy- then it's best to steer clear of this one. You're likely are likely to find the first serving of Soderbergh's four-and-a-half-hour, two part political epic a little confusing. This ain't no Hollywood funded, slick and stylish, over-dramatic chronicle concerned with entertainment or income. This isn't 'Defiance' or 'Valkrye'. This is a well-researched, claustrophobic and paced political drama (shot in Spanish) where spurts of action, violence and humour are few and far between. Imagine Oliver Stone's 'Salvador' by the way of Terrance Mallick's 'The Thin Red Line': fragmented, anti-mainstream and very heavy-going.

The bravura Benicio Del Toro stars as Che and is quite excellent. He delivers a focused and unwavering performance worthy of a thousand accolades: his finest since '21 Grams'. The fact that Del Toro is fluent in Spanish also helps, as does a rallying and unknown supporting cast that work well as a low-key ensemble. It's all about Del Toro, though. His insurgent, intense and convincing Che is one marred by crippling bouts of asthma yet defined by a burning desire to educate and reform- to put his litigious beliefs into action and unite Latin America.

With Che: Part One, the diligent Steven Soderbergh has found his blend of realism and narrative, documentary and drama. As an avid Che fan and reader of his books and biographies, there is little doubt in my mind that this monumental work will stand as the first piece in the definitive two part screen portrait of one the twentieth century's most iconic, yet largely uncharted, political figures.

Final Verdict: While lesser films wallow in the limelight, Che: Part One stirs understated in the shadows seemingly content with the fact that it wont appeal to all, or many. Steven Soderbergh has crafted a very loyal and well-made biopic. One that demythologises, one that educates, one that excels and ensues Walter Salle's soul-searching Che preface: The Motorcycle Diaries.

This struck me as a documentary or, more fairly as a personal yet direct meditation on the own words of a man, embedded in context, which may also be a definition for documentary I was deeply impressed by the honesty of this film. I understood where Soderbergh, the artist, was, as i felt the space he left for me to think. How he uses Che's own expression of the part of his life depicted in the film, with the least possible manipulation (editing the book is already manipulating) and still, it's up to the viewer to place his own opinions over what he saw - more or less distanced according to where we come from and where and how long we lived. Of course this is made considering that who goes to the film has a previous knowledge of what context and moment, and what character he is about to watch.

I'll put this film together with Medem's 'La pelota vasca' (an assumed documentary) for they both show an extreme sensitivity working with such delicate themes as like they choose to work. Both originated some contesting, More with Medem's because the director was more rooted in the problem that was shown, and because the story is far from being closed, but to me they were both opened films which, as any contemporary film should be, leave a lot of the thinking to the public, and work as brain starter for discussion.

The narrative structure is effective, the artwork and editing are of great competence. Che in the woods of Sierra Maestra, on the verge taking the power in Cuba inter cut with his visit to the USA, in 1964. This second line is shot in black and white, the other has beautiful colors. The absence of music was a mildly risky choice i appreciated. The rest, you can think of it yourself. I thought Del Toro was very good, internally concentrated, resisted totally to being what we expected Che to be, and that's something, to be able to interpret a character with such an charismatic aura behind him, which we can still feel when his own words are spoken. From this film on, i admire Del Toro; before this i didn't look at him as i do now. I'll review his previews performances, i have to check if i didn't notice how good he is. Quite on the contrary, Bichir, as Fidel, was a total disaster, frankly one of the worst performances i've ever seen. How could he think Fidel was all about imitating a voice, some gestures, and handling a cigar. What a mess.

Of course this man's story is controversial, which means one can make radically opposed opinions out of the same known and accepted facts. The fair amount of arguments i've had since i saw it with someone who saw it with me prove me right here. I think Guevara was a lucid man, who read perfectly well the mechanics of the world of oppression where he stood. He chose to stand there and live like them, though he wasn't like them, and that's worth admiration. The ideas he made of the injustice he saw was a product of a genuine mind. But though the diagnosis was right, the whole process of making it in practical terms was a mess, to my eyes. He was at the root of a regime, inserted in a bigger regime, that grew on arrogance, on hypocrisies, and at a certain point became at least so unfair to the same oppressed people as those oppressed had before. And that's because, though wanting to do different, this revolution used the same weapons of strenght and physical superiority others had used. And that killed the whole idea. And Guevara was there, with it, being oppressive when he thought he was being better, out of, i think, ingenuity. What i say is, read the man, his observations are probably equally (or even more) correct today as they were when he made them, but don't follow his steps, i wouldn't, not knowing what i know today.

Also, notice how Che, the icon, grew to incredible proportions, 3 reasons i give it:

-He died young, and fighting for ideals, at least shooting for ideas;

-He was picked up by the very capitalism he rejected and was sold like an icon the population (mainly youth) desperate to get out of the contradictions in this regime, check the contradiction of this;

-He had an image standing for him, literally an image, the photograph Korda took. It's amazing, and it's probably an unique case, how a single image can move millions, how the right moment, with the right publicity can be so powerful. If you think about that, among the capitalists who sell tshirts and the liberals who believe Guevara, this is image is the center of the most successful publicity campaign ever. Once more, i admire Soderbergh's intelligence to leave that image out of this film. It's more than avoiding a cliché. It's avoiding the viewers to go recall clichés they've made (me included) over that image.

My opinion: 4/5

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Che: Part One felt very complete and fulfilling. I found myself looking at Ernesto "Che" Guevara as a very well rounded person. Not as an ideological self fulfilling man but as an articulate man with thought out rational decisions as well as a man with many useful talents.

The acting of the cast all around was very good but Benicio Del Toro took the movie by storm but he did this in a very subtle way. His performance displayed how Che's spirit was able to superseded the hardships faced in the Cuban Revolution. It did not display any brutality or recklessness but a devotion to a cause. Del Toro's perforations was that worthy of an Oscar nomination but I don't think Che Guervara cared to much about awards.

The directing by Steven Soderbergh was visually stunning at times with much of the scenes shot in the forest. What kept the movie upbeat though were the scenes of Che in New York giving interviews and addressing the U.N. It added an extra layer to the film allowing you to see another side of Che. The side in which he shows his political and speaking abilities. The writing was very good with the dialog always keeping you engrossed. The music, though not much of it, was very good and stayed within rhythm of the rest of the film.

Overall the film succeeds in showing Che as a well rounded man never developing into oversimplified or unnecessarily complex portrayal of a man. The movie was very accurate and refused to take on a role of being inspiring or Hollywoodish which I enjoyed. The only problem with the film I had was that it seems to have a little too much of a feel of a war film rather than a biopic. Still I highly recommend this film.