With all the rush of the first day of Fantastic Fest, I only just this afternoon picked up on the story that one of Cuba's most prominent filmmakers passed away yesterday from cancer that had only recently been diagnosed. My reviews from the last day's films are behind, but coming later this evening.
Humberto Solas may not be a "foreign filmmaker" whose name perks the ears of every US cineaste, but it should. His generation of Cuban film directors, those who came of age during the Revolution, are every bit as significant to Cuban cinematic and national history as the rise of China's Cultural Revolution-era, "Fifth Generation" filmmakers, but for a few different reasons.
Solas was born on 4 December 1941, just days before the USA entered WWII. His family was poor and like many, practiced Santeria, a subject he focused on for Obataleo (1989), one of his documentaries. At the age of 18, during the heated months of 1959 (the year Castro took power from Batista), Solas began making movies, directing his first short films. In 1960, he became a member of the Instituto Cubano del Arte e Industria Cinematograficos (ICAIC, Cuban Institute of Art & Cinema Industry) and began making short docs. Six short years later, he would make Manuela (1966), the film that made him famous in Cuba thanks to it playing in festivals across the world and putting Cuba "on the map."
His most celebrated, signature film was Lucia (1968), which is his best-known film overall and the one that made him famous internationally, telling the stories of three women (all named Lucia) at three crucial moments in Cuban history: the War for Independence from Spain, the Revolution of 1933, and life in the shadow of Fidel's rise to power. The film itself is replete with romantic imagery, considered the primary recurring element in all of Solas' movies. Americans may be tempted to ethnocentrically cast his movies as melodramatic, but take it from a Romance Language guy, this is classic romance from a different culture and time than The Notebook, so give it a chance. I have read few assessments of Solas' work written by Americans that don't casually and lazily dismiss him as something like the Cuban king of melodrama. There are too many "foreign film friendly" US critics out there who think anything that isn't French or that isn't trying desperately to evoke American films is a waste of time.
Solas was Cuba's great romantic filmmaker of the modern era, and Lucia is considered by cinematic iberophiles as not only a classic, but one of the ten greatest Latin American films ever made, without question.
The 1970's saw a period in Cuba when "anti-socials" (homosexuals, free thinkers, etc.) were subjected to heavy persecution, and Solas' association with the ICAIC prevented him from really making movies in which he had much personal stake or vision invested. Solas' next major film would change the shape, face, and direction of Cuban cinema through to the present day.
Fourteen years after the success of Lucia, Solas and his production team took on the adaptation of "Cecilia Valdes o La loma del angel," considered the most important Cuban novel of the 19th century. They came under fire from the then-director of the ICAIC for what was considered by the government to be a "free adaptation" of a national treasure. The whole controversy evolved quickly into a national debate and culminated with the replacement of ICAIC's director Alfredo Guevara, who was apparently a neighbor and friend of my dad's. For those curious, Guevara isn't related to Ernesto "El Che," who was Argentinian. Guevara was later re-appointed to his post by Castro, with whom he'd been friends since studying together at the University of Habana.
Cecilia kicked off Solas' second great series of films, which included Amada and Un Hombre de Exito. All three films are available from First Run Features in their Cuban Masterworks Collection. I reviewed those mentioned above along with the other couple films included (the original Las Doce Sillas, which Mel Brooks remade as The Twelve Chairs and The Adventures of Juan Quin Quin) a while back, but I think I need to revisit them soon. The three early 80's films along with La Cantata de Chile (1975) and El Siglo de Las Luces (1992) make up a bloc of films that were profoundly influenced by Luchino Visconti, whose work Solas adored.
Solas dedicated most of his time since 2003 to the development of the Poor Film Festival of Gibara, one of the poorer Chinese cities in Cuba (most people reading this don't know there are a lot of Chinese Cubans in Cuba). The goal of the festival was to promote low-cost, high-quality artistic projects.
Gibara was almost completely razed to the ground by Hurricane Ike. Think what you want about Ike and why it hit who it hit in the USA, along the same lines as what Falwell said about Katrina but with a Blue State prejudice, but Gibara did nothing but be poor and repressed.
Humberto Solas is one of my cinematic heroes, though unlike many American and other international filmmakers, I never saw him in an interview or heard him in a commentary track. I now have something of a quest in front of me to track down Solas' censored and banned films from the 70's, which I wish I'd seen by now.
A great filmmaker in the political history of the world is gone, and no one seemed to notice. We pay attention to the most obscure Hollywood and Oscar-nominated folks we lose, but guys like Solas only get mentioned in the Spanish language newspapers and will never make the Oscar Reel.