Viva

In the 1970s, when I lived in Old San Juan (Puerto Rico), there was a black, round transvestite known as Lorena, who performed at the club "Cabaret," where he was a sensation for a couple of months with his hyper-dramatic interpretations of songs like Roberta Flack's "First Time Ever I Saw Your Face". He knelt on the stage, prayed, pleaded, even wept a bit, never losing his sense of humor, nor hiding the effect of detachment which, in general, good transvestite shows produce. Then, about three decades later, living in La Habana, I realized that the local homosexual subculture survived in a bubble, with patterns of social behavior (ranging from partying to couple interaction) that referred me to times gone by, as a recycling of the 1950s at the close of the 20th century. These manifestations, as well as the bitchiness in relations, have, of course, not died on or off the island, and they persist along with the "urbanity" of the "gay" community (more selective and classist), but I found they were almost the rule in Cuba. These two memories combined in my head, when the Irish film "Viva" ended and Héctor Medina as Jesus, the hairdresser who chooses to be a transvestite, became a kind of La Lupe, crying, imploring, pulling curtains from the cabaret managed by Mama (Luis Alberto García), in a highly current story, if we only consider the homophobia that reigns in almost all contemporary societies and that is at the center of the movie. At the same time, in the script by Mark O'Halloran, the same man who wrote the remarkable "Garage" (2007), I perceived a certain "poofy fascination" with an old and decadent universe that cries out for renewal. If O'Halloran achieved a well-measured drama in the Irish countryside in "Garage," I think that in other people's territory he emphasized the exotic and lost in realism. Despite the attempt to truthfully show misery and the alternatives of a young man who, in the absence of the stage of a transvestite club, opts for prostitution, "Viva" is a syrupy portrait of the streets of Cuba (that "inner Havana," opposed to the better-off life of the privileged people of the island) and its dens (as opposed to the big, fancy cabarets with larger budgets). One can overlook the filmmakers' ecstasy with the old- fashioned spectacles of transvestites (by interpreters-actors who have always lived a marginal existence and suffered severe exploitation), but where "Viva" loses more effectiveness is in its melodramatic approach to the relationship between Jesus and his father (Jorge Perugorría), who suddenly breaks into the boy's life and opposes his purpose. There is enough material to incite tears and emotion, as in the best melodramas, with music that exaggerates the pain we already perceive in the good performances by Medina, Perugorría, García, Laura Alemán and Paula Alí. For that drama beyond moderation, "Viva" is enjoyed, but I suppose there must be followers of film aesthetics according to Bruce La Bruce, Larry Clark, Gaspar Noé and Gustavo Vinagre, who would have been grateful for something a bit more graphic in the approach to eroticism and violence that permeate "Viva".

Ireland director Paddy Breathnach's "VIVA" is yet more proof that the independent foreign film is alive and well. Relative new comer Hector Medina is Jesus, a young Havana hairdresser making ends meet (no pun intended) after his mother passes and his dad left at the age of three. With hairdresser fees low, and a chance to join the troupe of drag performers he styles wigs for, Jesus hits the stage only to be confronted by his past. While Mama (the touching Luis Alberto Garcia) tries to guide him, Jesus' father Angel (the confrontational Jorge Perugorria) slams the breaks on. Director Breathnach, along with writer/actor Mark O'Halloran, have captured the poverty stricken Havana-hood and various film locations perfectly, enabling the audience to understand the community, comprehend the stigmas, feel the tension and believe in complicated love. Featuring English subtitles, a fantastic unknown cast to the US film market (including the terrific Renata Maikel Machin Blanco), and an outstanding sound track, "VIVA" is much more than a drag show film. Recently shown at the Palm Springs International Film Festival, the film is now out in limited run. If you can find it, you won't be disappointed.

Run-down Havana pretends to be a bustling city through the raucousness of its inhabitants and the creaking of its decades-old cars. Ubiquitous poverty is barely concealed by flashy cheap clothing and rum. Loneliness is under every character's skin, who grasp at any chance to escape in a tedious struggle for their lives. In this inaspicious setting, Jesús is a hairdresser who does an old lady's hair, he brushes wigs for drag queens performing in a cabaret attended by bolero lovers. Dullness and uneventfullness is one day broken into by his father, who'd left the home when Jesús was only three. Father is not pleased with his son's tastes, job, friends and lifestyle. Just as Jesús feels his life escapes his control to a stranger father, life will give them both an opportunity they hadn't asked for.

The first thing that knocks you out is the cinematography. It is a marvel how they can pull that off in a run-down, old, desolate place like Old Havana. But besides the obvious drag-queen story there is a very realistic depiction of life in Havana which, although touched up a bit, still gives the viewer a sense of how it really is. Well-known Cuban actors Luis Alberto Garcia (unrecognizable in drag) and Jorge Perugorría give excellent performances, but the star is newcomer Hector Medina. The only low point of the movie is the subtitle translation which does not do justice to the writing. I'm not sure how this film will play in Peoria, but in Miami's Little Havana where I saw it today it did just fine.

This is a very strong movie with a poignant story and excellent acting. It's set in Havana, Cuba, where young Jesús lives alone in a dilapidated apartment, trying to survive by doing odd hairdressing for a local dragqueen-club, secretly craving to be on that stage himself. Then suddenly his long lost father returns home after having been in jail for some 20 years. The two collide, especially on the topic of Jesús being gay and performing as a drag queen, but nevertheless they have to find a way to deal with eachothers presence in their lives.

Describing this, it may seem like a melodrama, but director Paddy Breathnach (not a Cuban or even a Hispanic director but Irish, surprisingly the whole project appears to be Irish!) carefully avoids the potential pitfalls and gives us a fairly honest and almost matter-of-fact like account, greatly helped by an excellent script and effective editing. The setting in old Havana shows us not the touristic beauty of faded glory, but the sad and bleak reality of a town in total decay, where people either dream of getting away from, or - as Jesús and his father - resign and try to make the best of it.

The acting of both Jorge Perugorría (the father) and Héctor Medina (Jesús) is excellent, especially Medina is impressive, with only few words but with a world of expressions in his face and attitude. His transformation into Viva, the drag queen singer on stage is striking: from a gentle, taciturn androgynous boy to a larger than life dramatic diva, singing and crying her heart out. The songs that are performed on the stage by the way are breathtaking: totally over the top yet full of genuine grief and anger and drama, and the words mirror the story perfectly.

I am stunned at how an Irish production team is able to so get to the heart and soul of this Cuban story, but they sure did, I rank it a heartfelt 10.