As we read in Julio García Espinosa’s “For an Imperfect Cinema,” a subversive cinema was already happening throughout the American continent in the 60s. This type of cinema was a response to all the contemporary liberation movements. Cuba’s Film Institute (ICAIC) was created with the twofold purpose of supporting revolutionary films within the island, which would contribute to expand the ideas of the Cuban revolution, but also to establish a dialogue with other new cinemas and filmmakers working along the same lines in the Americas or elsewhere. For this week film journal entry you can focus on any of the things that we watched or read in class: Solanas and Getino’s The Hour of Furnaces, Santiago Álvarez’s LBJ, Agnès Varda’s Salut les Cubains, Alessandra Müller’s Sara Gómez: An Afro-Cuban Filmmaker and Julio García Espinosa’s “For an Imperfect Cinema.” Some of the things we discussed that you can use as starting points for your responses were: dialectics, montage, moving the archive, being didactic, intertitles, narration, extractivism in the American continent, neocolonialism, the connection between the Civil Rights Movement and the Cuban Revolution, and Afro-Cuban culture and religion.
You can either write your own post or respond to this one.
Moving the Archive – Laura Ortiz
The concept of moving the archive in Latin American revolutionary cinema is a powerful act of subversion that critiques colonial and neo-colonial narratives embedded in Western media. Filmmakers like Solanas and Getino in The Hour of Furnaces rework archival footage—often sourced from Western cinema and newsreels—to expose how these images have historically depicted Latin America as “backward” and in need of Western intervention, revealing the ideological manipulation behind these portrayals. This technique uncovers the “double-reality” of the oppressed, who must navigate their own lived experience while also existing through the lens of the colonizer. In films like The Hour of Furnaces and LBJ by Santiago Álvarez, archival footage is re-contextualized to disrupt the dominant, imperialist narratives, revealing the contradictions between the “civilizing” mission of the West and the realities of revolution. By moving the archive, these filmmakers not only challenge colonial representations but also assert the colonized subject’s agency, forcing viewers to confront the power structures that shape both history and cinematic representation.
The Hour of the Furnaces focuses on the exploitation of Latin America by the United States and really symbolizes the oppression on the working class as well as the indigenous people on the continent. The close-up shots of the indigenous people, the child running away as the camera got closer, the arc shot around the woman and her child almost giving the viewer a sense of threat. The filmmakers show the harsh reality in order to spark emotion. Their use of rapid cutting and the juxtaposition of graphic images, the films political message aggressively forces the audience to pay attention. The imperfect editing style allows it to leave traditional documentary filmmaking to a means of resistance.
In the first session of the class, we were introduced to topics of the New Latin American Cinema. One of the films, Salut les Cubains directed by Agnes Varda featured still images that depicted everyday life of the Cuban culture. Varda’s interactions with every local resident are depicted in the film. Varda’s film is so imaginative because of the use of still images, which provide a very clear picture of what life was like for the Cuban people. The use of voiceover in the film helps to explain the different moments of the scene. It gives the viewers knowledge of the country in a humanistic way. The films bring experience to the full energy and creativity of the citizens. Agnes’ film shows a great representation of Cuba’s cultural identity and helps the outside world to see the history of the life of many ordinary people, such as workers, musicians, and other residents. I’m very impressed with how still images can end up making the film look so creative since we can get snapshots of the movements of the characters that help to tell a story in a more humanistic matter. Varda’s film was impressive since she was able to show parts of the Cuban’s life with only the use of images, music, and voiceover.
In this second week of class, I was introduced to Sara Gómez’s film, a Cuban filmmaker. We were granted a chance to know some of her works including Iré a Santiago, Guanabacoa: Crónica de mi familia, Mi aporte, and Una isla para Miguel. Sara’s films show a brief history of Afro-Cuban experiences that has led the world to know some of the history not many know about. One of the documentaries that I enjoyed more was Mi Aporte, which taught me about the impact of the Cuban Revolution on women and the workplace. It tells how male employees complain that their female coworkers are unable to handle the heavy physical work that is necessary. Furthermore, without childcare assistance. Many women had to quit their employment as a result of not being able to reconcile their work and parental duties. The film’s ending had the biggest impact on me because it shows how mothers or women feel about not being able to work because they must provide for their children or keep the house up. They are unsure of how to teach their sons how to clean. Since, in a time of machismo, young boys may be bullied because people think that these kinds of jobs are just for women. Being able to learn the experiences and hearing the voices of many women discussing their lives has shown the empowerment they have granted in themselves to be able to speak up and show the world the changes that should be made.
In the third week of class, we were introduced to one of the films by Sara Gómez called “De Cierta Manera” a documentary film that focuses on Cuban society’s struggle, showing themes such as social inequality and gender roles. The film gives a brief love story of Yolanda and Mario where they don’t have the same socio-economic standards. After watching the film, I found interesting the complexity that Yolanda was living in while being a schoolteacher and Mario, a factory worker. Their narrative illustrated the tension between the revolutionary ideals and the historical injustices of Cuba. Even though Sara Gómez wasn’t present to see the film through to completion, she managed to guide the team to produce a fantastic documentary that conveyed the living conditions of many Cubans, including the hardships they faced during and after the Revolution. She was able to produce one of the films that tells a story that few others couldn’t.
In the fourth week of class, we learned about the Cinema Novo, a Brazilian movement from the 1960s and 1970s that utilized handheld filmmaking to tell stories about political criticism. One of the key figures we learned was Glauber Rocha, one of the most influential filmmakers who was part of the movement. I also learned more about the movement’s main points after watching Eryk Rocha’s Cinema Novo. According to what I’ve learned, the film features a range of archival footage that contributes to reflecting Brazilian political issues. A large portion of the footage is handheld, which leads to a variety of emotions in audiences as they respond to each story. The movie had such a strong artistic influence on the movement that was well put in order to explain its point. Even still, there were some aspects that were difficult to analyze and how they related to the other material that was shown.
This week of class, we learned more about Glauber Rocha’s works, one of them got me by surprised a film that Rocha made for his friend called Di Glauber/Cavalcanti. It was interesting how he documented moments in which he showcased parts of the lives of his friends, and how the arts can resemble Di Cavalcanti’s lives. The film felt quite dark for me because it felt kind of awkward the fact that the people being filmed did not have the comfort of being recorded as they were being emotional towards someone close to them. Filming someone’s death creates tons of emotions for the audience, but Rocha felt like he needed to succeed in this film due to his appreciation for being a good friend to him. Overall, the film has been canceled but is great to be able to experience more of Rocha’s works.
Laura Ortiz – Blog Post #2 Sara Gómez’s films explore the complexities of Cuban identity, gender roles, and revolutionary contradictions with a strikingly ahead-of-her-time perspective. Works like Mi Aporte and Guanabacoa: Crónica de mi Familia highlight the intersection of personal and political struggles, particularly for Black Cuban women navigating a rapidly evolving society. Gómez’s approach, which embraces contradiction and community discourse, draws comparisons to cinema verité, engaging with real voices in a manner reminiscent of Chronicle of a Summer. Her work critiques the limitations of government-mandated equality while fostering genuine discussions on gender, labor, and identity that remain relevant today. The continued resonance of these themes in Latin American and diasporic communities underscores the lasting impact of her films and her ability to bridge past and present struggles through cinema.
Week 3 – De Cierta Manera: A Revolutionary Reflection
February 17, 2025
Sara Gómez’s De Cierta Manera is a striking film that blurs the line between fiction and documentary, offering a nuanced exploration of post-revolutionary Cuba. What fascinated me most was the way Gómez examines the tension between progress and tradition—not just in politics, but in everyday social structures, particularly regarding gender and race.
Yolanda and Mario’s relationship serves as a microcosm of these larger conflicts. Yolanda, an educated and independent woman, represents Cuba’s shifting social landscape, yet she struggles to connect with the working-class mothers of her students. Meanwhile, Mario, shaped by rigid ideas of masculinity, must confront his own biases and limitations. The film doesn’t offer easy resolutions but instead forces the audience to witness the complexities of change.
What makes De Cierta Manera so compelling is its refusal to separate ideology from lived experience. By incorporating real documentary footage and using non-professional actors, Gómez reminds us that these struggles aren’t just theoretical—they are real, ongoing, and deeply personal. This blending of storytelling and reality makes the film feel raw and immediate, reinforcing its relevance decades later.
One of the most thought-provoking aspects for me was the exploration of race and class. Yolanda’s position as a mixed-race woman with a college education places her in a unique but complicated space—she is both an advocate for change and someone who unknowingly upholds certain class divides. This reminded me of how even well-intentioned reformers can sometimes overlook the lived realities of the people they aim to help.
Ultimately, De Cierta Manera is not just about Cuba—it’s about how all revolutions must contend with deeply ingrained social norms. Political change is only one part of the equation; real transformation requires individuals to question their own roles within these evolving structures. Gómez’s work is a reminder that the personal is always political, and that true progress demands both systemic and personal reckoning.