I looked at the DVD supplements disc for
Criterion's Che (19 Jan) late last week. I've since received and gone through advance copies of both Blu-ray discs and the dual commentaries. The long months of delay that it took for this release to see the light of day were due to assembling the majority of the supplemental material. That work was time well-spent, and
the wait has been well worth it. Beyond the cut, you'll find Hollywood Elsewhere's early look at what is sure to be one of the most substantive and satisfying Blu-ray releases of 2010.
I'm in complete agreement with Jeff's sentiment that
Che is a movie that will grow exponentially in esteem over time. In choosing to withhold partisan judgment of its subject, it stands as a unique testament to the power of the cinema in an era full of throwaway junk. I've found, unsurprisingly, that the most dismissive and unsophisticated critical opinions on the movie have come from those who never saw the final version or never saw the movie at all. Yet others have declared war on movies that last more than 100 minutes.
The opening of the essay by critic Amy Taubin included in the accompanying booklet
I have nothing but respect for those who dislike something after having done their work, but the dereliction of duty on this picture was truly stunning to me. The most worthless criticisms of all were issued by otherwise respectable critics and journalists who reviewed their anticipation of public reception rather than their impression of the work itself. Such is the curse of anything tied to Ernesto "Che" Guevara.
Criterion's four-weeks hence Blu-ray of
Che is a two-disc affair, with each feature (and respective commentary track) on its own disc. Disc 1 also includes the
Making "Che" doc, deleted scenes from Part 1, and the trailer. Disc 2 houses
"Che" and the Digital Filmmaking Revolution!, deleted scenes for Part 2, interviews with historians and participants about the 26th of July Movement, and vintage doc
End of a Revolution (1968). The DVD edition puts all the extras (save feature commentary) on a third platter.
Making Che [49:49]
This densely-packed documentary shows off what Criterion does best: camp out for the best content and edit adroitly. The segments with producer
Laura Bickford, star
Benicio del Toro, and writers
Peter Buchman &
Ben van der Veen cover a lot of anecdotes that have come out in other interviews, from budget shortfalls to camera tech anxiety. They briefly talk about the period when
Terrence Malick was attached to the project. The most prominently illuminating and depressing bits come from
Steven Soderbergh himself. One of the reasons I admire and respect him as much as I do is that he always shoots from the hip.
For the right-wing howlers who like to blindly accuse Soderbergh of "softening" or "glorifying" El Che, the director makes it explicitly clear that he had no interest in portraying Guevara as anything but the cold, calculating, and decisive man that all of the evidence and stories paint in the same cool shades of grey. Of course, anyone who has
seen the movie understands that there is no "hail the conquering hero" story on display here.
Soderbergh mentions that a part of him still wishes they'd gone
the 10-hour miniseries route. The US government considered Che to be the most dangerous man on the planet by the time of his death, and the director makes an unapologetic Bin Laden comparison here without blinking. The most affecting bits are unvarnished comments from Soderbergh about the state of the cinema. I've transcribed a couple bits that I find particularly relevant:
On making
Che:
"It made me consider the issue of
whether movies matter or not anymore...at all. I think there was a period when they did matter, culturally. I don't think they do anymore. So that added to this sense of 'what was the point' of eight years of work when
movies have become so...disposable, and don't seem to be...there aren't many opportunities for them to be taken seriously the way they were in the late 60's and 70's here in the United States."
"I guess the point of some art is to illuminate. I guess...I just don't see any evidence that it's...happening. [he grimaces] Or, you know,
it happens for ten minutes and then, you know...everybody's thinking about where they wanna go eat."
Deleted Scenes
Part 1 [15:32]
1. With Sotus' Men
2. Camilo Tells a War Story
3. Prisoners Freed by Fidel
4. Vilo Reassures a Peasant Woman
5. Scouting El Hombrito
6. "The Radio is for News, Not Music"
7. "Frank Pais is Dead" 2 August, 1957
8. Pep Talk After The Battle of El Hombrito
9. The Trial of Lalo Sardinas
10. Victor Bordon
Part 2 [5:26]
1. The Lantern
2. Two Sleeping Soldiers
3. Benigno Returns from the Caves
4. End of Thirst
One of the greatest delays in the process of releasing this title was in giving Soderbergh the necessary time to edit, color grade, and master these scenes. Both sets of scenes feature optional commentary by the director, who is unafraid to bluntly go over why he chopped what. Most interesting to me were "The Trial of Lalo Sardinas" and "The Radio is for News, Not Music".
Interviews from Cuba
Participants [23:07]
Historians [11:54]
Bickford and Del Toro went to Cuba in July of 2009 to interview various notable figures from the 26th of July Movement. The Acevedo brothers, "Urbano", "Pombo" (Che's bodyguard), and
16-year President of the National Assembly Alarcon appear, among a few others. They offer a series of propaganda-free anecdotes, including bits about how Fidel's revolutionary movement wasn't among the well-known ones until his victory at Moncada.
Che and the Digital Cinema Revolution! [33:19]
Only due to visa delays did they end up using the then-prototyped
RED cameras, which arrived two days before filming was due to begin. Soderbergh wanted to use them specifically because they're vastly more portable than film-based cameras and are capable of achieving a very film-like look with natural lighting. Artificial light rigs were only used in 6 to 8 scenes in the final film.
This featurette includes interviews with Soderbergh, his crew, and the specialists at RED who helped them make
Che possible. A multitude of little fires kept cropping up, from false positives registered by temperature sensors to last-second software updates to managing and backing up hundreds of CompactFlash cards. Aspiring digital filmmakers would be wise to at least Netflix the title for this featurette alone.
The lifeless gaze of Ernesto Guevara
Journalist/producer
Brian Moser traveled to Bolivia in 1967 to meet and interview Che, but arrived just after his execution. The opening minutes of this 1968 documentary feature audio recorded during a public display of his remains, with stills to match. Also shown here (and nowhere else I can recall) is the only public trial of Guevara sympathizer Regis Debray (portrayed in
Che Part 2 by Marc-Andre Grondin). There's a copious amount of interview time spent with Bolivian President Barrientes, who openly acknowledges that his government
executes members of the working classes to make them fall in line and act like good beasts of burden.
my handwritten (and re-written) notes sans the ones on the commentary, which were misplaced between last night and this morning
Author Anderson (
Che Guevara: A Revolutionary Life) knows his subject passionately and comprehensively. Most striking is his emphasis on how impersonal (though not inaccurate) he finds the portrayal of Che in the movie. Where the films leave out a great deal (which they'd have needed hours more to tell), Anderson fills in gaps. If anything, when something really crawls up his ass, you get a glimpse of what the "10-hour" version could have covered. I'd consider myself reasonably well-read on Guevara, but Anderson kept throwing things at me I hadn't heard of previously.
Anderson's thoughts are thoroughly prepared, but more extemporaneous than rehearsed or scripted. He switches gears on the fly from scene to scene. His commentary is rich with anecdotes from unpublished memoirs and field journals, and rarely is there silence on his part. Among the most pleasant surprises in this set for me were these commentaries, which I consider the most absorbing "expert historian" commentary tracks I've listened to among the many dry, snore-inducing ones out there. His contribution nicely compliments a wholly nutritious and well-rounded set that leaves little to be desired.
Amazon currently has the Blu-ray listed for
pre-order at $33.99 and, oddly, doesn't have the DVD version listed at press time.
