The Buena Vista Social Club is filled with great music. It is the music of people's lives, and as they often say during the film, the musicians feel the music as well as play it. The way that others talk and think is the same way they create music. It is natural. The scenes of the musicians in concert are great and exciting.
The problem is that the director, Wim Wenders, chose to focus on things other than the music and the people who make it. His constantly spinning camera, while technically dazzling, serves no real purpose here. Sure, there are some wonderful shots that move long distances, but the story is in one place and needs no amplification. It is almost as though he thought we would be bored with the people and the sounds of the film. Nothing could be further from the truth.
The stories the musicians tell are engaging and funny. Their music is rich and timeless. Since it is a film about Cuba, one would expect some political overtones, but strangely there are not very many. Only at the end, when the musicians reach New York, does Wender's seem to interject his political views. The musicians are all awed by New York and the director allows them to degrade themselves by saying that ugly buildings are lovely. The irony-that if these men had been produced in New York there would never be any music at all-is lost on everyone. Also, the viewer may be left with the sense that they have been forgotten due to Castro and the revolution, but this is not really the case. All over the world and all around the USA artists are forgotten in their old age. Only in a nation that loves and understands art are artists given their proper place of respect. Cuba and the US both fail in this regard. And ultimately the film fails too. It misleads and it misdirects are attention and pulls us away from the enchanting music created by older musicians who rediscover life through expression.
The problem is that the director, Wim Wenders, chose to focus on things other than the music and the people who make it. His constantly spinning camera, while technically dazzling, serves no real purpose here. Sure, there are some wonderful shots that move long distances, but the story is in one place and needs no amplification. It is almost as though he thought we would be bored with the people and the sounds of the film. Nothing could be further from the truth.
The stories the musicians tell are engaging and funny. Their music is rich and timeless. Since it is a film about Cuba, one would expect some political overtones, but strangely there are not very many. Only at the end, when the musicians reach New York, does Wender's seem to interject his political views. The musicians are all awed by New York and the director allows them to degrade themselves by saying that ugly buildings are lovely. The irony-that if these men had been produced in New York there would never be any music at all-is lost on everyone. Also, the viewer may be left with the sense that they have been forgotten due to Castro and the revolution, but this is not really the case. All over the world and all around the USA artists are forgotten in their old age. Only in a nation that loves and understands art are artists given their proper place of respect. Cuba and the US both fail in this regard. And ultimately the film fails too. It misleads and it misdirects are attention and pulls us away from the enchanting music created by older musicians who rediscover life through expression.