Memorie del sottosviluppo

Sergio, a bourgeois intellectual living off of (seemingly tenuous) rental income as a property holder, decides to stay in Cuba. The conflict set up between his intellectual convictions and the reality of Cuban life in the wake of the revolution makes up the central problem of the film. The film presents a year in the life of the protagonist, a year culminating in the missile crises of 1962. What makes the film is the candid nature of it's reflections on the role of the intellectual in political life - certainly THE hot topic during the summer of 1968. The film is also a stylistic tour de force, welding together neorealistic drama, newsreel footage, montages of life in contemporary Havana as seen from Sergio's flat (through a telescope), and some filmed Shavian-styled debates amid the action. Far from being a typical propaganda piece, the films treatment of the future of the revolution was very open ended, candid, and thoughtful. It's a film that emerges from the debates about the future and which stages it's own participation in that debate. The film features two significant cameos: Edmundo Desnoes - the author of the novel on which the film is based, and Gutierez Alea himself. Both cameos occur in diegetic reflections about art: a debate about literature in the case of Desnoes, and a talk with a young director in the case of Alea. This film is almost impossible to find in the US thanks to the Cuban expatriate zealot nonsense. It's available in Mexico though - on a fairly well mastered DVD. It's worth seeking out. It's one of the best Cuban films ever and one of the greatest films of the new wave era.

The fact that I enjoyed this a lot whilst disliking much within the film is odd. It is a compelling tale set at the beginning of the 60s as tensions between the US and Cuba increase and are complicated by an opportunist USSR and the cinematography is daringly wondrous making even the seeming mundane something of beauty. On the other hand our narrator and main guy played by Sergio Corrieri is hard to feel much empathy for as he spurns the US and the chance to flee there with his wife and friends but also the Cubans he is left behind with. The dialogue seems clumsy and this could well be the translation but inevitably much is made of the issue of 'underdevelopment' which our hero uses to explain why he cannot relate to the Cuban population. His elitist stand seems to be that because they are so 'underdeveloped' he cannot really relate to them. Nevertheless the film bulges with historic detail and local colour and significance so that even the film's seeming main thrust cannot spoil our pleasure.

Memorias del subdesarrolo (memories of the underdeveloped) is a look into the life of a bourgeois young writer who decides to stay in his native Cuba following the Cuban revolution, and enters himself into a life of detachment, seclusion, and avoidance. Sergio (the writer) is juxtaposed with Elna (a young woman following the trends that are dictated to her) to show a clash in idealism, values, and moral that leads to dramatic court scene that ultimately puts in question the current state of Cuba opposed to the past. Alea's use of Sergio, Elena, Pablo (a petty bourgeois that flees to Miami), and the court shows Alea's insight into the great social change that followed the revolution. Through the course of the film you see the change in society that spurns it's, once, culturally elite to become detached from there surroundings and society, leaving only two options: flight, and seclusion. This film is a great look into a society, and a man trying to escape from it. .

"Memories of Underdevelopment" (Cuban, 1968): Made in 1968, set and shot (b/w) in 1961-62 Cuba, using a frighteningly smooth blend of documentary footage, and flash-backs, with new sets, locations, and actors in present-time, we watch a man at an airport say goodbye to most everyone he's ever known. THEY are escaping the new Castro Cuba, to start over in Miami, USA. HE has decided to remain (although we're never given much of an explanation why), and use (what must be) his independent wealth. Now living in the big city with only strangers, he wanders about looking for relationships. Instant closeness. Replacements. Although carrying the demeanor of a suave, patient, aging bachelor, he has the desperation of a teenage boy, driven by appearances and hormones. As archival footage is used to expand the vision of Castro's Cuba, it is clear the lonely man is the one making the bigger mistake. I thought of this "story" as Emotionally Existential.

There are some great comments and facts here about this gem and I'll try not to repeat them. Alea presents a realistic, fascinating, and believable dramatization of the moral and political quagmire set in the early-Castro era through the POV of an apathetic bourgeois. The story delves into the inner psyche of Sergio, a lonely eccentric and sets out to illustrate its impact during the alienation on every level intertwined by transitioning culture at that time. He gets caught up in a relationship with Elena, their happiness seems perfect.

Alea elaborates this predictable story in which, from the beginning, the idea is built that something does not fully agree with what Sergio think will happen. The narration submerges you in the timeline and slowly seams things together in a brilliant and subtle way. I have always enjoyed this film minute by minute, the upheavals and the disappoints that happens to break the character mentally. The film is shot in semi-documentary style which is one of the highlights as it pushes the narrative with no room for spoon-fed character development. Even with limited emphasis on traditional storytelling the film carries emotional impact with solid acting effort throughout the runtime. Some may look at it from the view of art-house documentary with newsreel footage of the Cuban Revolution dressed up as a political drama, but it is more than that. Also, I will recommend Stefan Uher's The Sun in a Net (1963), Halina Bielinska's Sam posród miasta (1965), Paulo César Saraceni The Dare (1966), The Vampires of Poverty (1977), The Man Who Sleeps (1974) and Ice (1970). If you haven't seen it, I would suggest you do add it in your watch list.

To conclude Memorias del subdesarrollo (1968) is simply a brilliant character analysis, also a cleverly constructed political drama realised in a time where the facts truly are in your face.