Sin Alas. Dir. Ben Chace. Perf. Carlos Padron, Yulislievis Rodriguez, Mario Limonta. Franklin Avenue Films, 2015.
This film by U.S. director Ben Chace is the first one since the Cuban Revolution in 1959 to be shot entirely in Cuba. What is even more remarkable is that the film was shot on an older form of film, a Super 16, that makes the shots grainy, but nostalgic which is perfect for the themes in the film.
It is the story of Luis Vargas, a journalist for Bohemia (the oldest magazine for Cuba and Latin America in real life), who falls in love with a modern dancer, Isabela Muñoz, in 1967. Isabel is married to a commander in the Revolution, who catches them in bed together one night. Luis runs out, never to see her again (and to subsequently lose his job).
The movie’s narrative starts with Luis reading her obituary in the newspaper, which sets off a labyrinth of memories, melodies, and trails that lead him and his friend, Ovilio, through Havana. The movie is inspired by Borges’ short stories, as well as by the poetry of José Lezama Lima.
This artistic film includes many layers, but of interest to me is the representation of a modern dancer, the Revolution, and love. It’s interesting to me that Chace chooses modern dance, not ballet or even Afro-Cuban folkloric dance, which might be more recognizable as Cuban. In choosing modern dance, the film puts forth the most avant garde of the dances sponsored by the Revolution – and the one understood the least by Revolution officials. Unfortunately, her husband, represents this mis-understanding.
In one important scene, Luis, Isabela, and her husband and his revolucionario friends discuss the use of dance and art after her performance. The revolucionarios compliment Isabel on her hard work and dedication to the performance, but admit that they are not sure what the common person will understand about the narrative. The dance places a male and female dancer in white leotards, dancing together in sensual motion. A mob of other dancers in black leotards attempt to pull them apart. Isabel’s husband attempts to explain that audiences can glean the love relationship is important, but moreover, that it took skill and hard work to put it together. Despite his attempt to defend his wife, he also does not let her speak for herself. Ironically, Luis steps in to defend not only Isabela’s performance, but all art. (And she falls for him here.) His point is that art, especially abstract modern dance, requires the audience member to reflect not only the performance to figure it out, but also on his/her own life. Therefore, it brings the audience to a new level of appreciation and critical reflection needed in society.
Metaphorically, Luis could represent the intellectual, Isabela, the artist/dancer; and the husband, the Revolution. I am not sure why the artist and intellectual are separated, if only to highlight Isabela as the beauty of Cuba as well. She is a beautiful and graceful, none of which is missed by the camera. Nonetheless, she doesn’t get to express herself other than through dance and lovemaking.
But, I am confused as why Chace would opt to center his film around modern dance. In one way, the film asks: “Is dance a revolutionary act?” This is the center of my chapter on Cuba in the dissertation too and a good question. But the films intertwines the artistic discussion with three tales of love. Perhaps the larger question is, “Is love(making) a revolutionary act?” Nonetheless, in this film, modern dance is revolutionary but not of the Cuban Revolution. It does not seek to replace the Revolution, but rather to resist complete control of the revolucionarios who (admittedly) know little about the aim of art. Modern dance in Cuba makes room for the expression and reflection on life, and perhaps that’s the crux of revolutions: they do not require such.
Comp Exams Reading Notes and BEYOND! 