Los dioses rotos: New Cuban Movie Has the Island Buzzing
Near the end of the film, Laura, a university professor who delves into the Havana underworld says, “Like a reoccurring cycle of reincarnations, Alberto Yarini returns to be crowned in San Isidro, Belen, Jesus María, Colon, and Guanabacoa. His power of seduction captivated the soul of a culture that both criticizes and reveres him. I don’t want to be sacrilegious...and in fact, I would like it be the other way around.” This is precisely the ambiguity between adoration for those whose passions plunge them into the abyss and the rationality of the intellectual who seeks understanding. This passionate and beautiful film is a Cuban version of the Greek tragedy as recreated in Carlos Felipe’s play Réquiem por Yarini.
The first colossal achievement of Los dioses rotos is presenting a story that immediately grabs hold of the spectator, supported by a montage of close-ups, the deft use of archival material and perfect placing of the plot’s turning points. Secondly, is the gradual development of complex characters, people who are trapped and scarred by their adverse fate, a key element in tragedies.
The characters involved in the two love triangles —Laura, Alberto and Sandra in one; and Anselmo, Sandra and Alberto in the other— are moved by base actions: lies, faking, sex for profit, violence and crime. Nevertheless, the film, fortunately, does not allow itself to moralize or present sociological assessments. Instead, it is loyal to the story, to the magnificent design of characters and actions, and to the rules of the genre it has chosen, moving between a biased melodrama with elements of suspense and erotica. As such, the film is driven by emotion and the desire to understand and empathize, that goes the beyond the hundreds of topics it raises such as social differences, the solars, ghetto toughness, folklore and guaguancó.
In Réquiem por Yarini, aesthetic elements go beyond the low morals of the environment it depicts. Los dioses rotos does the same, casting light on attitudes and behaviours that are usually condemned. Maybe in order to achieve a certain visual and dramatic effect, there was an excessive beautification of the sordidness and degeneracy that, together with the soundtrack, at times makes the film verge on a sort of touristy self-exoticism, which at one point Laura is reproached for. This is exemplified in phrases that come at the end of the movie such as “they come to photograph this shit and then go away,” or “if you don’t know, don’t get involved.” Afterwards it is revealed that no one jumps in the water without getting soaked. That is at least if you don’t take your clothes off first.
The movies dabbling in documental methods, especially when interviewing prostitutes, is dramatically and referentially effective, allowing the spectator, along with Laura to penetrate deeper into daily lives of these people.
This film has received lots of praise, especially for the acting in both the lead and supporting roles. Silvia Águila and Héctor Noas truly display their skills at the trade. Águila’s character embodies all the nuances of doubt, sympathy and ethical decline; while Noas gives us one of the most suggestive and contained bad-guy characters of Cuban cinema. Carlos Ever Fonseca and Ania Bu confer grace, vehemence, and attractiveness to their respective characters, huge challenges for two emerging actors. In addition is the great secondary roles played by Amarilys Núñez, the proverbial simplicity in which Mario Limonta says uncomfortable lines, and the deeply felt presence of Isabel Santos and Patricio Wood.
Dioses rotos is professional cinema at its best: spectacular, realistic, accessible to all, aesthetically adult and conceptually rich, complex, and controversial. The film does not suffer with its use of certain narrative and stylistic techniques taken from television, the music video or even advertisement. The script and dialogues are also worthy of praise as is the fluency and rhythm of the editing, the Almodovar-like and voluptuous mid- color of photography and art direction providing blood, character and heartbeat to the story.
The one thing I didn’t like about the movie was the overwhelming male chauvinistic nature of the plot, even though, given that the film presents an insight into pimping, chauvinism is an essential element. Despite the fact that the film’s action revolves around the female characters, who are also serve as the motives for tragedy, the film only presents female antiheroes that go crazy anytime they hear the zipper of their lover lowering. These are beings whose rationality is constantly blinded by revenge or jealousy. When the time comes for the film to present female chauvinism and unleashed progesterone, it makes no difference if it comes from a university student or prostitute, because the plot throws you headfirst to the feet of the regent male —always heroic, protective, generous, and even a martyr. Perhaps the film bears witness to the remnants of these traditional gender roles, and what I see as a male-centered plot is actually social criticism and denouncement. Anyways, this door of interpretation is left open to the spectator, who should not miss the opportunity to see this film, a befitting way for the Cuban Institute of Cinematographic Art and Industry (ICAIC) to celebrate its 50th anniversary.
