Pure Guevara

Benicio del Toro shines in Steven Soderbergh’s
fascinating but frustrating epic quasi-biopic Che

REBEL, REBEL: Sandino Moreno and del Toro

by MALCOLM FRASER

Steven Soderbergh is a puzzle. He can turn an experimental exercise into a fun, concise comedy (Schizopolis) or a celebrity-ridden trifle into a self-indulgent wankfest (Ocean’s 12), so you never know what you’re going to get. Soderbergh’s willingness to experiment, and the uneven results it produces, seem to indicate that he’s interested in process as much (or possibly more) than product.

His latest, the two-part quasi-biopic Che, is unlike any of his films (or anyone else’s), but it’s typically Soderberghian in its mix of ambition and ambivalence, made with impeccable craftsmanship yet infused with a lack of concern for traditional narrative that viewers will likely find either bold or frustrating.

With Benicio del Toro in the iconic title role, the two parts concentrate on different crucial moments in Che’s life. The first, subtitled “The Argentine,” cuts between guerrilla warfare in the Cuban revolution, and a 1962 visit to the UN by Guevara as a representative of the nascent revolutionary government. The second, “Guerrilla,” concentrates on the last year of Che’s life, when he gave up a cushy ministry job in Cuba to wage an unsuccessful revolution in Bolivia.

FLIPPED SCRIPT

The typical biopic approach, exemplified by Walk the Line and Ray, has become clichéd enough to have been masterfully satirized in the underrated Walk Hard. Recently, Gus Van Sant’s Milk was expertly made but firmly within the genre’s parameters, redeemed from its generic structure by its great performances, while Oliver Stone’s presidential films are (for better or for worse) more subjective takes on history, full of heavy-handed symbolism and speculative armchair psychoanalysis.

Soderbergh is having none of either approach, and as eye-rollingly clichéd as the average biopic can be, Che made me quickly realize how off-putting it is to be deprived of the genre’s familiar tropes. Anyone not familiar with the Cuban revolution would be advised to take a quick Wikipedia refresher course, as Soderbergh gives next to no background info on the greater context in either chapter of his film. We also get zero info on Che’s life prior to becoming a revolutionary, very little on his personal life, and no stirring speeches or dramatic “inciting incidents.”

Instead, what Soderbergh portrays is the day-to-day grind of fighting a revolution. Just as The Wire portrayed both police work and crime in all their unglamorous details, petty infighting and nagging compromises, Che does the same for guerrilla warfare. (In fact, the film arguably might have worked better as a series—certainly, in spite of its four-hours-and-change length, you might be left wanting more from all the details that Soderbergh omits). Though there are a number of exciting battle sequences, notably one in which Che and his rebels take over a town in a coordinated attack that includes derailing an army train, much of the film is given over to quotidian arguments among the rebels as they struggle toward their goals.

MEANS OF PRODUCTION

Del Toro, surely to no one’s surprise, is excellent in the role, with his imposing physical presence, expressive eyes and emotional intensity serving him well. Demián Bechir is appropriately charismatic as Fidel Castro, and Catalina Sandino Moreno is intriguing in the sadly underdeveloped role of Aleida, Che’s fellow revolutionary turned second wife. The rest of the cast is strong, but there are so many characters (a great deal in identical guerrilla fatigues and beards) that they become a blur.

Soderbergh, who’s been his own pseudonymous director of photography for years, shoots the New York sequences of “The Argentine” in cinéma-vérité black and white, the Cuban revolution scenes in bright colours and the melancholy “Guerrilla” chapter in more subdued tones. Never resorting to the overly stylized (perhaps having gotten that out of his system with The Good German and the Ocean’s flicks), his approach to the look, atmosphere and pacing seems deliberately workmanlike, as though he wanted to capture an appropriately proletarian spirit.

So is Che worth the lengthy investment of hours? I’d have to answer a qualified yes. Soderbergh fans will enjoy the latest demonstration of the director’s craftsmanship and originality, members of the Che cult of personality will no doubt thrill to the depiction, and anyone planning an armed insurrection could appreciate it as a study in tactics.

But there’s no getting around the challenge posed by not only its length, but its stubborn insistence on avoiding dramatic clichés. The film’s combination of epic scope and dogmatic realism make it even more impressive that Soderbergh managed to get it made and released, but they don’t make it any easier to watch.

CHE OPENS THIS FRIDAY, FEB. 20