It is impossible to talk about the last fifteen years of Cuban cinema without considering the contribution of Muestra Joven ICAIC. As a platform for the exhibition, production, distribution, and discussion of film, this festival becomes a hotbed of dissimilar proposals. Their fundamental goal is to promote projects by filmmakers 35 years old and younger.
Each year the selection process is more difficult, as access to new technologies have diversified the so-called “Cuban cinema,” giving way to what Juan Antonio Garcia Borrero calls a prolific “submerged production.” According to Borrero, “submerged production” generates works that are very different from each other (some better than others). Thus, we cannot speak of a cohesive movement of young Cuban cinema—on the contrary, it is precisely their differences that unite them.
But the Muestra Joven goes much further. The truth is that its emergence and development have several drivers that need to be elucidated to better understand the festival’s role when discussing film made by young people in Cuba. Undoubtedly, the two educational centers responsible for audiovisual training on the island were decisive from inception. While primary training in filmmaking does not exist—both centers are college-level institutions—those admitted have acquired experience either from praxis via independent projects or are self-taught. The curriculum reveals excellent standards; at times, however, they fail due to unreasonable concerns with perfectionism and academic success, rather than striving to subvert canons and experimenting with the image itself. Perhaps understandably, since one must first learn the rules before discarding them. However, it is in the stories themselves that these differences are revealed, becoming testimonies of a complex and fragmented time.
This does not mean that Muestra Joven is the sole precursor of that alternative cinematography we insist on deconstructing herein. The fact is that there has been independent production for decades at the margins of the International School of Cinema and Television of San Antonio de los Baños (EICTV) and the Faculty of Media and Audiovisual Communication (FAMCA), which has gained more and more supporters in recent times.
Making movies in Cuba is not easy. In my opinion, making films in Cuba requires an almost Homeric prowess. It can also be said that Muestra Joven is no longer exemplary for all that is being done. The event’s last edition featured over one hundred works, forty were selected, and more than sixty were not included. For these, the International Festival of Havana might be their next option, but the short films not included in any of these competitions may just be forgotten.
Few spaces available for exhibition and almost null institutional support have led to the emergence of alternatives in the form of independent producers and to financing by foreign embassies such as Norway or the Netherlands. These results generate a very interesting phenomenon, perhaps expressed in the projects themselves through the creators’ freedom to tell their generation’s stories; as well as in the use of new expressive and experimental resources that achieve this goal. If we stop to take note of the credits of most of the works exhibited in the 16 Muestra Joven ICAIC, we will see the impact that independent production has had. These are but a few: Casa de la Noche, Marcel Beltrán; An Instant, Marta María Borrás; Battery, Damián Saínz; Luxembourg, Fabián Suárez; The Fisherman, Ana Alpízar; Beauty, David Moreno; and The Anthill, by Alan González, among many others.
On a positive note, more and more international festivals and exhibitions are dedicated to, or at least include Cuban cinema made by a younger filmmakers. A double vision appears to be at work here: first, the filmmakers’ turn towards foreign audiences and platforms to showcase their work; And, second, they also must contend with the foreigner’s gaze, often tainted by less than aesthetic concerns. Both positions tell us once again how challenging it may be to find an audience for this sort of production. Specially, because many of these young filmmakers are still developing their art, and do not yet have a large curriculum or many accolades. This is why these international film events are important for these young Cuban filmmakers. In that sense, the Muestra de Montevideo continues this path of exploration towards the multiplicity of tendencies and languages, in cinema that looks for answers in its popular context. Ultimately, this is the fruit of a long tradition of Cuban creators who also problematized their social and political realities.
Cuban cinema is a journey under construction, filled with difficult questions: how far do these works attempt to problematize a specific, real phenomenon? Or, do they merely seek to insert themselves in the international commercial circuit, with stories built for those who do not know Cuban reality? Can both be achieved?
These sort of conflicting questions lead to multiple answers and more than one analysis. In my opinion, both can. Players such as Carlos Lechuga, Pedro Luis Rodríguez, Juan Pablo Daranas, Miguel Coyula, Ariagna Fajardo, Carlos Quintela, Diana Montero, Alejandro Alonso, Maryulis Alfonso, and Adolfo Menas Cejas, and many others attest to this. Undoubtedly, more places are needed to exhibit and distribute on the island. Hopefully, those already in existence, such as the Muestra Joven ICAIC will grow and enrich the cultural panorama of everyone’s Cuba. Meanwhile young cinema will continue to belong to irregular channels and piracy—although now a little less submerged.
Translated by Susannah Rodríguez Drissi
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