He lacks money and equipment, but the head of Cuba's Cinematheque is
determined to save a movie collection from the ravages of time and climate.
By Lorenza Munoz. Los
Angeles Times. Sunday, January 14, 2001.
HAVANA--Sitting in his cramped, humid office, Reinaldo Gonzalez
considers what to do next. Like a lot of people in his position, he never has
enough time, money or staff to do everything he wants to do. But he can't give
up. He has a monumental task--to save one of the biggest film archives in Latin
America.
As the head of Cuba's official Cinematheque, the world's second-largest
archive of Latin American film after Mexico, Gonzalez must find a way to salvage
the collection from the tropical humidity and heat. Without the money to build a
proper storage and restoration facility, up to 26% of the Cinematheque's films
are in danger of disintegrating.
"In comparison to some of the other Latin American countries, we
are better off," said Gonzalez, who has been at the helm of the
Cinematheque for 10 years. "But we have so many problems. The films here
were just not taken care of properly for many years. Our life here is about
systematically intervening to preserve them. It's a daily chore."
Although Cuba is a poor country, filmmaking and film preservation are
actually high priorities for the Communist government. Still, in a country with
few resources, there is not much money to be spent on preservation.
The Cinematheque houses about 3,000 films--not only from Cuba, but
Mexico, Argentina and many other Latin American countries. It houses a large
selection of Charlie Chaplin movies donated by Chaplin's daughter, and many
Hollywood classics such as "Gone With the Wind," "Gilda" and
"Citizen Kane." The collection also includes Eastern European and
Soviet films--remnants of the days when Cuba's biggest supporter was the USSR.
Although the collection is not huge--UCLA's film archives, for example,
hold nearly 200,000 films--it is significant because of its focus on Cuba and
Latin America.
"They work under very difficult conditions," said Robert
Rosen, dean of the UCLA School of Theater, Film and Television, who visited the
Cinematheque in the early 1990s. "They have problems getting film stock,
equipment and [have] difficulties with funding. Despite all that, they are truly
committed to preservation and conservation."
The Cinematheque is only one part of Cuba's film industry.
Indeed, Cuba boasts one of the few film industries in Latin America.
Along with Mexico and Argentina, Cuba as a country produces between a half-dozen
and a dozen films annually. But unlike those countries--which are increasingly
reliant on independent financing to make movies--Cuban filmmakers depend
completely on the government for money.
* * *
Before the revolution of 1959, there was not a real movie industry in
Cuba, only intermittent booms in filmmaking, with producers and directors
continually hindered by bad economic times, Gonzalez said.
Fidel Castro and other leaders understood the importance of
images--both moving and still--for educating and sending messages to the masses.
"Cubans are a film-crazy society," said Gonzalez. "The
revolution recognized film as an important organ of information."
With full cheeks and energetic blue eyes, Gonzalez's soft round face
beams when he talks about movies. Cuba rapidly established itself as a world
cinematic force starting in the 1960s, when the late Tomas Gutierrez Alea's "Memories
of Underdevelopment" and Humberto Solas' "Lucia" astonished
international audiences.
Fidel Castro's good friend Alfredo Guevara was the founder of Cuba's
film institute, known as the ICAIC. Twenty-two years ago, Guevara founded the
International Cuban Film Festival, which today is the most important festival
for Latin American film.
The Cinematheque, a separate branch of the ICAIC, was founded in 1960
when the films were nationalized by the government and then warehoused. But by
then, many of the classic Cuban films of the 1940s and early '50s were
disintegrating, said Gonzalez, whether they were on unstable nitrate stock or
acetate safety film.
It's been an ongoing battle since.
Today, Gonzalez often goes into the storage facility hoping to show one
of the classic films, only to find the celluloid too soft or brittle to run in a
projector.
"That has happened to me many times," said Gonzalez ruefully.
Despite its financial woes, the Cinematheque tries to function as both a storage
facility and protector of film and as an exhibitor. Every year, several films
are pulled out of the archives to be shown in theaters for the general public.
Five years ago, some Spanish investors built a modern storage facility
to help salvage some of the films. The facility is climate-controlled, but it
cannot preserve films already close to deteriorating.
When acetate film is not stored in a room with the proper
climate--between 35 and 45 degrees Farenheit--and low humidity, it either grows
a fungus or develops something called the Vinegar Syndrome. So named because of
the pungent smell decomposing acetate gives off, the Vinegar Syndrome causes the
celluloid to become discolored or to disintegrate. Movies made before 1950 were
filmed on nitrate, a highly flammable substance even more susceptible to
corrosion if not stored properly.
Some European filmmakers have offered to contribute in part to the $2
million to $3 million it would take to build a state-of-the-art preservation
facility. Still, Gonzalez said, he could really use Hollywood's help.
* * *
But Hollywood's hands are tied.
Filmmakers such as Robert Redford, Gregory Peck, Jack Lemmon, Paul
Mazursky, Francis Ford Coppola and Harry Belafonte have all visited Cuba and its
Cinematheque, said Gonzalez. Though they have indicated they want to help, the
U.S.-imposed embargo makes any kind of trade or financial help nearly
impossible, Gonzalez said.
Others in Hollywood have used the Cinematheque as a resource. In 1990,
representatives from Universal asked for a print of the Spanish-language "Dracula,"
made in 1931 with Lupita Tovar. The Cinematheque had the only complete print of
the film and sent a free copy to the studio.
The Library of Congress has a copy that has been shown at film
festivals, but it is missing the crucial third reel. However, because of the
strict laws of the embargo, Universal could not deal with the Cinematheque
directly. So, at the request of the studio, the UCLA film archive asked the
Cinematheque for a print. The studio then restored it. That restored
version--more erotic than its timid English counterpart--was screened in 1992 on
Halloween by the UCLA archive. It later became a Universal home video release.
Though the Cinematheque may be small, Gonzalez likes to dream big.
He hopes to one day build a Pan-American Cinematheque, which would be
the main repository for all Latin American film. He would also like to establish
a conservation lab at the Cuban International School of Cinema and Television,
where students would learn how to preserve film. In addition, he would like all
the archive's films to be stored on campus, where they would be readily
available for students and restoration experts. The International School of
Cinema and Television has become an important place of study for many Latin
American and Spanish filmmakers. Even some UCLA film students have studied
there.
Gonzalez is trying to create an international restoration fund,
financed mainly by UNESCO, to which Mexico, Argentina, Brazil, Uruguay, Colombia
and Venezuela could contribute. But he still wants to catch Hollywood's
eye--after all, that is where the expertise and money are.
"I want to talk to Martin Scorsese because I know he is very
interested in restoring film," said Gonzalez. "In Cuba, we have been
taught to think as a community. So now I am thinking about all these other
cinematheques. I don't know why I get myself into these messes."
Lorenza Munoz Is a Times Staff Writer
Copyright 2001 Los Angeles Times | 