Buena Vista Social Club Spotlights Vibrant Cuban Culture

by Hank Williams

There is no such thing as a victimless war and the Cold War was no exception. Aside from the various "Hot Wars" (Vietnam, Korea) that flared up as a result, there are a lot of left over details that haven't been ironed out.

Cuba and US policy toward it is one of those details. After the fall of the Soviet Union it is pretty hard to consider Cuba a threat to US security or policy in any serious way, but old habits die hard. After decades of painting Cuba and Fidel Castro as the local bogeyman, how can you turn around and admit that it wasn't really all that much of a threat after all?

That's only one of many flaws in the blockade and foreign policy in general, but the human side of the issue and the one that (as always) is forgotten is the plight of the Cuban people. They've managed to survive being a pawn of the superpowers and have a vibrant and beautiful culture, which, ultimately, is what Buena Vista Social Club is all about.
Ry Cooder and Director Wim Wenders use music as a guise to take the audience on a breathtaking and warm look into Cuban culture. The pictures fill in details of the story that the music leaves out. Wenders pointed out that he, "[couldn't] separate their lives and their history from the music itself. That music is so emotional and rich and so full of their life stories that you just can't divide it up."

Cuba is a funky place: half of it is relatively modern utilitarian prefab concrete housing and the other half are old pre-revolution buildings in various states of decay or renovation. Make no mistake, though: times are hard for most Cubans. Food and medicine are in short supply, electricity is spotty in many parts of the island, and an underground dollar economy and black market are getting stronger.

Cubans tend to be extremely resourceful: they have to be. Stroll down any street in Havana and you'll see big clunky American cars from the '50s mixed with newer Eastern European rolling stock from the '70s. In some ways the older cars are still better: the Ladas and Fiats weren't much to begin with. The common thread is that everything is held together with an amazing combination of homemade parts, duct tape, and whatever else the owners can scrounge.

That's an apt metaphor for the musicians and the music they produce. The songs tell a story and could be described as Cuban Blues. The rich texture of the island and the Cuban people are clear as you listen to guitarist Eliades Ochoa's song "El Carretero." It could double as a music video, as Eliades is filmed strolling through a rusting Cuban rail yard, his cowboy hat providing the only relief from the brutal tropical sun as he strums the guitar. It could very easily be Garth Brooks or Randy Travis with a different soundtrack.

The film grew out of the 1996 Grammy Award-winning album of the same name. Cooder returned to Havana in 1998 to record Ibrahim Ferrer's (recently released) solo album and Wenders tagged along, cameras in tow. The Cooder-Wenders team did not happen by accident, however: Cooder has composed musical scores for several Wenders films, most notably Paris, Texas.

The real triumph of Buena Vista is the feel one gets of Cuba while watching and listening to the music. The film is tinged with the irony that envelopes Cuba as you hear Ibrahim Ferrer (described as a Cuban Nat King Cole) admit that he had pretty much given up singing before Ry Cooder and the Buena Vista project came about. The 72-year-old singer with the incredible voice was shining shoes when Cooder caught up with him.
Similar stories apply to 92-year-old singer/guitarist Compay Segundo and 82-year-old piano virtuoso Rubén González. Segundo was working in a cigar factory and González didn't own a piano anymore and hadn't played in years. Considering all of this the results are amazing. The music is beautiful and the Cubans have a natural playfulness and ease in front of the camera. The strength of a good documentary is that real stories are often better than anything you could make up, and that's the case here.

Particularly touching is the juxtaposition of footage from Havana and the (ubiquitous) billboard-size murals glorifying Che Guevara and the revolution with footage shot in New York and the Technicolor advertisements of Times Square. Ferrer confides that it was always a dream of his to be on stage in Carnegie Hall, which finally came true in 1996.

While the Cuban revolution has never lived up to its potential, the contrast forces confrontation of the alternative when one looks past the bright lights of Broadway at the homeless, disenfranchised, and exploited here at home that the system has no solution for. Buena Vista Social Club is a look into a Cuba that is still largely devoid of commercialization. Buena Vista gives us a snapshot of a country whose days in the current state are probably numbered. Don't miss it.