I Am Cuba


1h 48m 1964
I Am Cuba

Brief Synopsis

A study on the transition of Cuba to a post-revolutionary society.

Film Details

Also Known As
Ja, Kuba, Soy Cuba, Ya ...Kuba, Ya Cuba, Ya Kuba
MPAA Rating
Genre
Drama
Documentary
Release Date
1964

Technical Specs

Duration
1h 48m

Synopsis

Hidden away in the Soviet archives for three decades, I AM CUBA is a wildly schizophrenic celebration of Communist kitsch, mixing Slavic solemnity with Latin sensuality--a whirling, feverish dance through both the sensuous decadence of Batista's Havana and the grinding poverty and oppression of the Cuban people. In four stories of the revolution, Mikhail Kalatov's astonishingly acrobatic camera takes the viewer on a rapturous roller-coaster ride of bathing beauties, landless peasants, fascist police, and student revolutionaries.

Film Details

Also Known As
Ja, Kuba, Soy Cuba, Ya ...Kuba, Ya Cuba, Ya Kuba
MPAA Rating
Genre
Drama
Documentary
Release Date
1964

Technical Specs

Duration
1h 48m

Articles

I am Cuba -


Sometimes the story behind a film is so compelling that it becomes an integral part of the film itself. Director Mikhail Kalatozov's astounding I Am Cuba (1964) is just such a case. This ambitious slice of cinematic agitprop is a poetic chronicle of the Cuban revolution that also has the distinction of being the first film collaboration between the USSR and Cuba. Epic in scope and filled with dazzling images and gravity-defying camera work, I Am Cuba was barely seen during its initial release. Almost immediately shelved and forgotten for 30 years, it was subsequently rescued from oblivion, restored and brought back to glorious life for Western audiences who were finally able to appreciate its breathtaking innovation long after the dust and optimism of Castro's promise of a brighter future had settled.

The film itself defies traditional narrative structure to depict four separate vignettes dramatizing the struggle of Cuban citizens under Batista's dictatorship, the corrupting influence of decadent capitalism, and the passionate call to action through revolution. Connecting each vignette is the personified voice of Cuba itself (Raquel Revuelta) that gently stirs emotion as it forms a compelling collective portrait of a land and its people.

After Fidel Castro first came to power in 1959, one of the first things his new regime did was form the state run Cuban film office ICAIC (The Cuban Institute of Cinematographic Art and Industry). Knowing that film was a highly effective way to spread messages of propaganda, Castro hoped to quickly strengthen the generally weak Cuban film industry. The powerful Soviet Union, on the other hand, had far more experience with filmmaking. Keen on helping to spread Communist ideas to a wider audience, the state run Soviet film office was willing to lend assistance to Cuba for a broad depiction of the Cuban Revolution.

With the first partnership between the newly created ICAIC and the USSR's Mosfilm, I Am Cuba began to take shape when veteran Russian filmmaker Mikhail Kalatozov took the reins of the epic project. Kalatozov had recently won the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival for his World War II triumph The Cranes are Flying. He saw the project, which was clearly aimed to promote and celebrate the Cuban Revolution, as an irresistible challenge and wanted to capture its spirit while it was still urgent and thriving. Kalatozov also brought along his brilliant collaborator on The Cranes are Flying, cinematographer Sergei Urusevsky, as well as the skilled camera operator Alexander Calzatti. Both men would prove to be great assets to Kalatozov in the achievement of the film's stunning visuals.

After traveling to Cuba for research and pre-production, Kalatozov enlisted the help of Soviet poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko and Cuban writer Enrique Pineda Barnet to create a workable script for I Am Cuba. The four vignettes written for the film included mini-narratives about a young woman whose desperation leads to prostitution amidst the careless decadence of the American-infused Havana nightclub scene, an elderly tenant farmer who loses his home and land to the evils of capitalism, a passionate student rebellion against Batista, and finally, a pacifist peasant who is driven to action once violence lands at his doorstep. It was a simple formula that traced the revolution from up-close stories of individual hardships to the collective rebellion that learns to stand as one against Batista.

When it came to casting actors for I Am Cuba, Kalatozov scouted talent with the help of cinematographer Sergei Urusevsky's wife Belka Fridman. Having the right authentic look for a part was more important to them than extensive actual acting experience. As a result, the final cast was filled with an eclectic mix of ordinary citizens, acting students and semi-professional actors who could naturally convey the spirit of the film's message.

Pre-production on the film, it is worth noting, just happened to coincide with the tense 13-day Cuban Missile Crisis that saw Castro, in a show of aggression, harboring nuclear-armed Soviet missiles on Cuba that pointed to the United States. As the world held its collective breath, the standoff finally ended with the missiles being removed from Cuba and an agreement from the U.S. not to invade.

When actual production on I Am Cuba commenced in 1963, Kalatozov was given considerable creative freedom. It was a shoot that lasted for 14 months, and by all accounts it was an arduous one. Kalatozov, however, knew exactly what he wanted, and it was a production that yielded great creativity utilizing innovative filming techniques that included lengthy, complex moving shots as well as the use of infrared film for heightened contrast. Since it was a time that pre-dated the revolutionary Steadicam in the industry, camera operator Alexander Calzatti and the rest of the crew had to be extremely resourceful in trying to achieve the cinematic vision of Kalatozov and Urusevsky. If a waterfall was needed but didn't exist, one was built. If a shot needed to float through buildings at impossible angles, a crude system of wires and body attachments was devised for a handheld camera. If a camera needed to go underwater, a special military periscope cleaner was used on the lens.

When the film was finally edited, completed and ready for release, it opened simultaneously in both Cuba and the USSR in the summer of 1964. Despite the film's heady achievements, however, I Am Cuba was given the cold shoulder by both Cuban and Soviet governments and was pulled from release after only a week. Some sources recall that one main area of concern was that some of the early nightclub scenes that depicted what was supposed to be the vulgarity of Western excess would in fact have a dangerously enticing effect on audiences who had never been exposed to such lavish hedonistic lifestyles. With the film pulled from circulation so quickly, it never really had a chance to be seen and appreciated by a wider audience. After all the incredible hard work, I Am Cuba virtually disappeared and faded into dusty obscurity for three decades.

It took the thaw of the Cold War, the fall of the Berlin Wall and the dissolution of the Soviet Union for this remarkable film to finally be rediscovered. Thanks to some astute film programmers and skilled archivists, I Am Cuba was rescued from oblivion in the early 1990s and given new life with high profile screenings at the Telluride Film Festival in 1992 and the San Francisco International Film Festival in 1993.

Eventually Milestone Films, which specializes in finding and restoring cinematic treasures, acquired the distribution rights from Mosfilm in Russia and went to work with a plan to restore and release it theatrically in the United States. Milestone got help from contemporary American filmmakers Martin Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola, who loved the film and agreed to lend their names to the re-release to help promote it.

Championed by the substantial clout of Scorsese and Coppola, the restored I Am Cuba rose from the ashes when it finally opened at New York's Film Forum in 1995 to a rapturous response. As the film went on to enjoy a wider release in large cities, audiences were fascinated to see it for the first time and marveled at the astonishing acrobatic camera work and striking cinematography. The New York Times described it as "a feverish pas de deux of Eastern European soulfulness and Latin sensuality fused into an unwieldy but visually stunning burst of propaganda...it suggests Eisenstein filtered through La Dolce Vita with an Afro-Cuban pulse." Finally embraced some 30 years after the fact, I Am Cuba also had a profound influence on a new generation of up-and-coming filmmakers who were inspired by its unique innovation.

Unfortunately, neither Mikhail Kalatozov nor Sergei Urusevsky lived to see the glorious rebirth of their superhuman efforts from so long ago. Kalatozov died in 1973, and Urusevsky followed just a year later. Castro and his regime, of course, still remain in power as of this writing.

As Cineaste's Rahul Hamid points out in his 2008 review of the film, "The charm of I Am Cuba is that it is like finding a time capsule. The film's optimism, its belief in Cuba and its revolution, hope for Soviet-Cuban cooperation, and desire to spread the Communist word are touching in their sincerity and naiveté. The film and its characters will never see the dark side of Castro, Soviet aid dry up, or the island starved by the U.S. embargo. What remains vital and what inspires audiences when they see the film is the way in which the filmmakers use the language of cinema to make an audience feel and think. The audacity of the long shots, the inventiveness with which each sequence is put together, the very idea of making a filmed epic poem, have lost none of their impact over the years."

By Andrea Passafiume
I Am Cuba -

I am Cuba -

Sometimes the story behind a film is so compelling that it becomes an integral part of the film itself. Director Mikhail Kalatozov's astounding I Am Cuba (1964) is just such a case. This ambitious slice of cinematic agitprop is a poetic chronicle of the Cuban revolution that also has the distinction of being the first film collaboration between the USSR and Cuba. Epic in scope and filled with dazzling images and gravity-defying camera work, I Am Cuba was barely seen during its initial release. Almost immediately shelved and forgotten for 30 years, it was subsequently rescued from oblivion, restored and brought back to glorious life for Western audiences who were finally able to appreciate its breathtaking innovation long after the dust and optimism of Castro's promise of a brighter future had settled. The film itself defies traditional narrative structure to depict four separate vignettes dramatizing the struggle of Cuban citizens under Batista's dictatorship, the corrupting influence of decadent capitalism, and the passionate call to action through revolution. Connecting each vignette is the personified voice of Cuba itself (Raquel Revuelta) that gently stirs emotion as it forms a compelling collective portrait of a land and its people. After Fidel Castro first came to power in 1959, one of the first things his new regime did was form the state run Cuban film office ICAIC (The Cuban Institute of Cinematographic Art and Industry). Knowing that film was a highly effective way to spread messages of propaganda, Castro hoped to quickly strengthen the generally weak Cuban film industry. The powerful Soviet Union, on the other hand, had far more experience with filmmaking. Keen on helping to spread Communist ideas to a wider audience, the state run Soviet film office was willing to lend assistance to Cuba for a broad depiction of the Cuban Revolution. With the first partnership between the newly created ICAIC and the USSR's Mosfilm, I Am Cuba began to take shape when veteran Russian filmmaker Mikhail Kalatozov took the reins of the epic project. Kalatozov had recently won the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival for his World War II triumph The Cranes are Flying. He saw the project, which was clearly aimed to promote and celebrate the Cuban Revolution, as an irresistible challenge and wanted to capture its spirit while it was still urgent and thriving. Kalatozov also brought along his brilliant collaborator on The Cranes are Flying, cinematographer Sergei Urusevsky, as well as the skilled camera operator Alexander Calzatti. Both men would prove to be great assets to Kalatozov in the achievement of the film's stunning visuals. After traveling to Cuba for research and pre-production, Kalatozov enlisted the help of Soviet poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko and Cuban writer Enrique Pineda Barnet to create a workable script for I Am Cuba. The four vignettes written for the film included mini-narratives about a young woman whose desperation leads to prostitution amidst the careless decadence of the American-infused Havana nightclub scene, an elderly tenant farmer who loses his home and land to the evils of capitalism, a passionate student rebellion against Batista, and finally, a pacifist peasant who is driven to action once violence lands at his doorstep. It was a simple formula that traced the revolution from up-close stories of individual hardships to the collective rebellion that learns to stand as one against Batista. When it came to casting actors for I Am Cuba, Kalatozov scouted talent with the help of cinematographer Sergei Urusevsky's wife Belka Fridman. Having the right authentic look for a part was more important to them than extensive actual acting experience. As a result, the final cast was filled with an eclectic mix of ordinary citizens, acting students and semi-professional actors who could naturally convey the spirit of the film's message. Pre-production on the film, it is worth noting, just happened to coincide with the tense 13-day Cuban Missile Crisis that saw Castro, in a show of aggression, harboring nuclear-armed Soviet missiles on Cuba that pointed to the United States. As the world held its collective breath, the standoff finally ended with the missiles being removed from Cuba and an agreement from the U.S. not to invade. When actual production on I Am Cuba commenced in 1963, Kalatozov was given considerable creative freedom. It was a shoot that lasted for 14 months, and by all accounts it was an arduous one. Kalatozov, however, knew exactly what he wanted, and it was a production that yielded great creativity utilizing innovative filming techniques that included lengthy, complex moving shots as well as the use of infrared film for heightened contrast. Since it was a time that pre-dated the revolutionary Steadicam in the industry, camera operator Alexander Calzatti and the rest of the crew had to be extremely resourceful in trying to achieve the cinematic vision of Kalatozov and Urusevsky. If a waterfall was needed but didn't exist, one was built. If a shot needed to float through buildings at impossible angles, a crude system of wires and body attachments was devised for a handheld camera. If a camera needed to go underwater, a special military periscope cleaner was used on the lens. When the film was finally edited, completed and ready for release, it opened simultaneously in both Cuba and the USSR in the summer of 1964. Despite the film's heady achievements, however, I Am Cuba was given the cold shoulder by both Cuban and Soviet governments and was pulled from release after only a week. Some sources recall that one main area of concern was that some of the early nightclub scenes that depicted what was supposed to be the vulgarity of Western excess would in fact have a dangerously enticing effect on audiences who had never been exposed to such lavish hedonistic lifestyles. With the film pulled from circulation so quickly, it never really had a chance to be seen and appreciated by a wider audience. After all the incredible hard work, I Am Cuba virtually disappeared and faded into dusty obscurity for three decades. It took the thaw of the Cold War, the fall of the Berlin Wall and the dissolution of the Soviet Union for this remarkable film to finally be rediscovered. Thanks to some astute film programmers and skilled archivists, I Am Cuba was rescued from oblivion in the early 1990s and given new life with high profile screenings at the Telluride Film Festival in 1992 and the San Francisco International Film Festival in 1993. Eventually Milestone Films, which specializes in finding and restoring cinematic treasures, acquired the distribution rights from Mosfilm in Russia and went to work with a plan to restore and release it theatrically in the United States. Milestone got help from contemporary American filmmakers Martin Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola, who loved the film and agreed to lend their names to the re-release to help promote it. Championed by the substantial clout of Scorsese and Coppola, the restored I Am Cuba rose from the ashes when it finally opened at New York's Film Forum in 1995 to a rapturous response. As the film went on to enjoy a wider release in large cities, audiences were fascinated to see it for the first time and marveled at the astonishing acrobatic camera work and striking cinematography. The New York Times described it as "a feverish pas de deux of Eastern European soulfulness and Latin sensuality fused into an unwieldy but visually stunning burst of propaganda...it suggests Eisenstein filtered through La Dolce Vita with an Afro-Cuban pulse." Finally embraced some 30 years after the fact, I Am Cuba also had a profound influence on a new generation of up-and-coming filmmakers who were inspired by its unique innovation. Unfortunately, neither Mikhail Kalatozov nor Sergei Urusevsky lived to see the glorious rebirth of their superhuman efforts from so long ago. Kalatozov died in 1973, and Urusevsky followed just a year later. Castro and his regime, of course, still remain in power as of this writing. As Cineaste's Rahul Hamid points out in his 2008 review of the film, "The charm of I Am Cuba is that it is like finding a time capsule. The film's optimism, its belief in Cuba and its revolution, hope for Soviet-Cuban cooperation, and desire to spread the Communist word are touching in their sincerity and naiveté. The film and its characters will never see the dark side of Castro, Soviet aid dry up, or the island starved by the U.S. embargo. What remains vital and what inspires audiences when they see the film is the way in which the filmmakers use the language of cinema to make an audience feel and think. The audacity of the long shots, the inventiveness with which each sequence is put together, the very idea of making a filmed epic poem, have lost none of their impact over the years." By Andrea Passafiume

I Am Cuba: The Ultimate Edition - The Ultimate Edition of Mikhail Kalatozov's I AM CUBA on DVD


Politics, propaganda and poetry are whipped into an exotic cinematic cocktail in Mikhail Kalatozov's delirious tribute to the Cuban revolution, I Am Cuba. The film, a co-production between the USSR's Mosfilm and Cuba's national film production company, ICAIC, was embarked upon as a gesture of solidarity in the wake of the Cuban Missile crisis. Castro, a film buff who loved both Hollywood movie and the great Soviet classics of the silent era, saw an opportunity to put Cuba's story on film. Kalatozov (director of The Cranes Are Flying) saw the film as his opportunity to create his own Battleship Potemkin, but for the Cuban struggle against Batista. What he emerged with is an epic revolutionary art movie of socialist ideals that opens in the decadence of Batista's Cuba and ends with the intoxication of righteous uprising against the capitalist oppressors.

"I am Cuba," proclaims the narrator as the camera floats through the rural countryside down a canal no bigger than a drainage ditch, ducking under porches of huts built over the bank and sliding over a footbridge. Suddenly we're jolted into the frenzy of Havana's tourist trade, to a high rise patio where a band blares generic rock music and bikini-clad beauties strut in a beauty contest. The camera sways through the crowds like a tipsy tourist, and then floats down several stories to a swimming pool and slips underwater with the babes, all in an unbroken shot that flaunts its bravura audacity.

This prologue establishes the film's themes – the extreme contrast between the impoverished citizens struggling to survive and the decadence of the regime and the wealthy visitors who treat it like their colonialist outpost – and the intoxicating style. The camera is almost perpetually in motion – set on a canoe drifting down a small canal, hefted to wander streets and weave through crowds in handheld sequences, lifted by cranes, suspended by wires, even transported several stories in an elevator – and the shots play out in long, unbroken takes lasting as long as ten minutes. Over 95% of the film is shot handheld, much of it with a lightweight Éclair, and infrared film stock was used for key sequences (such as the opening shot down the rural canal) to get sharp contrasts and an unusually bold intensity to the images. More than just dramatic and dynamic, they are thrilling images, pulsing with life and passion, pounding with indignation and anger, soaring with the spirit of idealism in action.

I Am Cuba plays like a socialist symphony in four movements. The first follows Maria, a nice Catholic girl by day and a morose hooker by night, who takes the name Betty and waits for the boorish American tourists in the nightclub to pick from the menu. The second moves to the countryside where an elderly widower and his two children work the sugar fields like sharecroppers, eternally in debt and finally tossed aside in the name of profit. The third section takes us into the heart of the student rebellion, where socialist rhetoric is bounced around in debates and rallies and one impassioned young revolutionary in particular rises up to become an inspiring speaker and a martyred leader. The final sequence takes us to the battlefield and to an uncommitted farmer who becomes converted to the socialist cause, joining the rebel fighters to the strains of martial music that sounds an awful lot like the patriotic anthems of American World War II movies.

"We saw the film as a kind of poem, as a poetic narrative," explained cinematographer Sergei Urusevsky in a 1965 interview. Urusevsky, who had previously shot Kalatozov's The Cranes Are Flying, and Soviet poet Yevgeni Yevtushenko joined director Kalatozov in a tour of Cuba to scout locations, soak up the culture, and get to know the people in order to find their story. Cuban poet Enrique Pineda Barnet was their screenwriter partner and tour guide. He helped sketch out ideas and characters with the three Soviet artists in group meetings in Cuba and then traveled to Moscow to help write the script from the notes and scene sketches. Pre-production reportedly took over a year as Kalatozov worked out every aspect of the film, and the shooting lasted almost two years.

The resulting portrait, ostensibly a collaboration between Soviet and Cuban artists, is undeniably European, the work of Russian filmmakers intoxicated by the Caribbean culture and music and set loose away from the oversight of Soviet studios and politicians. The Cuban style of the time belonged more to the magic realism of Cinema Novo and the low-budget ingenuity of the French New Wave than the delirious imagery and acrobatic camerawork of Kalatozov and Urusevsky. In Vicente Ferraz's The Siberian Mammoth, a 2005 documentary that charts the making of I Am Cuba from a Cuban perspective, the Cuban actors and crew members are generous with praise for Kalatozov and his Soviet crew, but they make it clear that the Cuba on screen is exoticized and eroticized by filmmakers from cold Mother Russia. While they confess that they were often awed by the images and the thrilling cinematic sequences created by Kalatozov and Urusevsky, they shake their heads at the way the Soviets would wait three days for clouds to drift into the sky for one shot, or completely redirect a waterfall so that the sun would appear just so in the falling spray for another shot. The obsessive perfectionism seemed excessive, to say the least, to the practical folks used to making films on tiny budgets and down-and-dirty conditions.

This culture clash of Soviet paternalism and aesthetics and Cuban stories and settings helped transform I Am Cuba into something unique to this day: a fever dream of Soviet idealism, a political tract gone native, social realism on a bender. It was a flop when it was finally premiered in 1965, derided in Cuba (even by the locals who worked on the film), dismissed in Russia, and all but suppressed by both countries when they filed it away in the vaults after a brief run. Who knows how long it would have remained forgotten if not for a screening at the Telluride Film Festival as part of a tribute to director Mikhail Kalatozov in 1992. It was the film's American debut and, even without subtitles, was embraced by Telluride's cinephile audiences. Milestone Films acquired the rights and, under the banner "Francis Ford Coppola and Martin Scorsese present," released the film to American audiences in 1995, where it's more popular than it ever was in either the Soviet Union or Cuba.

Milestone's new three-disc "Ultimate Edition" presents the film newly remastered from the original Russian 35mm fine grain interpositive. The image is luminous and the film is offered with both the original Spanish and Russian language soundtracks with new subtitles, and with the alternate Cuban version of the opening credits. The second disc features the Brazilian documentary The Siberian Mammoth from Vicente Ferraz, which sets the film in the context of the excitement of the nascent Cuban film movement and examines the tensions – aesthetic and cultural – between the Soviet filmmakers and the Cuban collaborators. The actors and crew members are dumbfounded when told of the film's rapturous reception in the United States. The Russian documentary A Film About Mikhail Kalatozov is a personal portrait of the director by his grandson, Mikhail Kalatozishvili, and featuring interviews with many of the greats of Russian cinema. Both feature English subtitles. The set also features a 26-minute interview with Martin Scorsese (whose sponsorship helped launch the film's 1995 American release) and a 30-minute interview with screenwriter Yevgeni Yevtushenko conducted in 2004, a still gallery and Milestone's original 1995 trailer. Each of the three discs come in a separate thinpak case and are boxed up, along with the 14-page booklet "I Am Cuba: The True Story" (which features archival writings and a new essay on the making of the film), in a colorful mock-cigar box.

For more information about I Am Cuba (The Ultimate Edition), visit Milestone Films. To order I Am Cuba (The Ultimate Edition), go to TCM Shopping.

by Sean Axmaker

I Am Cuba: The Ultimate Edition - The Ultimate Edition of Mikhail Kalatozov's I AM CUBA on DVD

Politics, propaganda and poetry are whipped into an exotic cinematic cocktail in Mikhail Kalatozov's delirious tribute to the Cuban revolution, I Am Cuba. The film, a co-production between the USSR's Mosfilm and Cuba's national film production company, ICAIC, was embarked upon as a gesture of solidarity in the wake of the Cuban Missile crisis. Castro, a film buff who loved both Hollywood movie and the great Soviet classics of the silent era, saw an opportunity to put Cuba's story on film. Kalatozov (director of The Cranes Are Flying) saw the film as his opportunity to create his own Battleship Potemkin, but for the Cuban struggle against Batista. What he emerged with is an epic revolutionary art movie of socialist ideals that opens in the decadence of Batista's Cuba and ends with the intoxication of righteous uprising against the capitalist oppressors. "I am Cuba," proclaims the narrator as the camera floats through the rural countryside down a canal no bigger than a drainage ditch, ducking under porches of huts built over the bank and sliding over a footbridge. Suddenly we're jolted into the frenzy of Havana's tourist trade, to a high rise patio where a band blares generic rock music and bikini-clad beauties strut in a beauty contest. The camera sways through the crowds like a tipsy tourist, and then floats down several stories to a swimming pool and slips underwater with the babes, all in an unbroken shot that flaunts its bravura audacity. This prologue establishes the film's themes – the extreme contrast between the impoverished citizens struggling to survive and the decadence of the regime and the wealthy visitors who treat it like their colonialist outpost – and the intoxicating style. The camera is almost perpetually in motion – set on a canoe drifting down a small canal, hefted to wander streets and weave through crowds in handheld sequences, lifted by cranes, suspended by wires, even transported several stories in an elevator – and the shots play out in long, unbroken takes lasting as long as ten minutes. Over 95% of the film is shot handheld, much of it with a lightweight Éclair, and infrared film stock was used for key sequences (such as the opening shot down the rural canal) to get sharp contrasts and an unusually bold intensity to the images. More than just dramatic and dynamic, they are thrilling images, pulsing with life and passion, pounding with indignation and anger, soaring with the spirit of idealism in action. I Am Cuba plays like a socialist symphony in four movements. The first follows Maria, a nice Catholic girl by day and a morose hooker by night, who takes the name Betty and waits for the boorish American tourists in the nightclub to pick from the menu. The second moves to the countryside where an elderly widower and his two children work the sugar fields like sharecroppers, eternally in debt and finally tossed aside in the name of profit. The third section takes us into the heart of the student rebellion, where socialist rhetoric is bounced around in debates and rallies and one impassioned young revolutionary in particular rises up to become an inspiring speaker and a martyred leader. The final sequence takes us to the battlefield and to an uncommitted farmer who becomes converted to the socialist cause, joining the rebel fighters to the strains of martial music that sounds an awful lot like the patriotic anthems of American World War II movies. "We saw the film as a kind of poem, as a poetic narrative," explained cinematographer Sergei Urusevsky in a 1965 interview. Urusevsky, who had previously shot Kalatozov's The Cranes Are Flying, and Soviet poet Yevgeni Yevtushenko joined director Kalatozov in a tour of Cuba to scout locations, soak up the culture, and get to know the people in order to find their story. Cuban poet Enrique Pineda Barnet was their screenwriter partner and tour guide. He helped sketch out ideas and characters with the three Soviet artists in group meetings in Cuba and then traveled to Moscow to help write the script from the notes and scene sketches. Pre-production reportedly took over a year as Kalatozov worked out every aspect of the film, and the shooting lasted almost two years. The resulting portrait, ostensibly a collaboration between Soviet and Cuban artists, is undeniably European, the work of Russian filmmakers intoxicated by the Caribbean culture and music and set loose away from the oversight of Soviet studios and politicians. The Cuban style of the time belonged more to the magic realism of Cinema Novo and the low-budget ingenuity of the French New Wave than the delirious imagery and acrobatic camerawork of Kalatozov and Urusevsky. In Vicente Ferraz's The Siberian Mammoth, a 2005 documentary that charts the making of I Am Cuba from a Cuban perspective, the Cuban actors and crew members are generous with praise for Kalatozov and his Soviet crew, but they make it clear that the Cuba on screen is exoticized and eroticized by filmmakers from cold Mother Russia. While they confess that they were often awed by the images and the thrilling cinematic sequences created by Kalatozov and Urusevsky, they shake their heads at the way the Soviets would wait three days for clouds to drift into the sky for one shot, or completely redirect a waterfall so that the sun would appear just so in the falling spray for another shot. The obsessive perfectionism seemed excessive, to say the least, to the practical folks used to making films on tiny budgets and down-and-dirty conditions. This culture clash of Soviet paternalism and aesthetics and Cuban stories and settings helped transform I Am Cuba into something unique to this day: a fever dream of Soviet idealism, a political tract gone native, social realism on a bender. It was a flop when it was finally premiered in 1965, derided in Cuba (even by the locals who worked on the film), dismissed in Russia, and all but suppressed by both countries when they filed it away in the vaults after a brief run. Who knows how long it would have remained forgotten if not for a screening at the Telluride Film Festival as part of a tribute to director Mikhail Kalatozov in 1992. It was the film's American debut and, even without subtitles, was embraced by Telluride's cinephile audiences. Milestone Films acquired the rights and, under the banner "Francis Ford Coppola and Martin Scorsese present," released the film to American audiences in 1995, where it's more popular than it ever was in either the Soviet Union or Cuba. Milestone's new three-disc "Ultimate Edition" presents the film newly remastered from the original Russian 35mm fine grain interpositive. The image is luminous and the film is offered with both the original Spanish and Russian language soundtracks with new subtitles, and with the alternate Cuban version of the opening credits. The second disc features the Brazilian documentary The Siberian Mammoth from Vicente Ferraz, which sets the film in the context of the excitement of the nascent Cuban film movement and examines the tensions – aesthetic and cultural – between the Soviet filmmakers and the Cuban collaborators. The actors and crew members are dumbfounded when told of the film's rapturous reception in the United States. The Russian documentary A Film About Mikhail Kalatozov is a personal portrait of the director by his grandson, Mikhail Kalatozishvili, and featuring interviews with many of the greats of Russian cinema. Both feature English subtitles. The set also features a 26-minute interview with Martin Scorsese (whose sponsorship helped launch the film's 1995 American release) and a 30-minute interview with screenwriter Yevgeni Yevtushenko conducted in 2004, a still gallery and Milestone's original 1995 trailer. Each of the three discs come in a separate thinpak case and are boxed up, along with the 14-page booklet "I Am Cuba: The True Story" (which features archival writings and a new essay on the making of the film), in a colorful mock-cigar box. For more information about I Am Cuba (The Ultimate Edition), visit Milestone Films. To order I Am Cuba (The Ultimate Edition), go to TCM Shopping. by Sean Axmaker

Quotes

Trivia

Miscellaneous Notes

Winner of a special 1995 archival award from the National Society of Film Critics.

Released in United States April 26, 1993

Released in United States December 8, 1995

Released in United States July 21, 1995

Released in United States on Video March 1, 1996

Released in United States September 1992

Released in United States Spring March 8, 1995

Re-released in United States December 23, 2005

Re-released in United States September 16, 2005

Shown at San Francisco International Film Festival April 26, 1993.

Shown at Telluride Film Festival September 4-7, 1992.

Formerly released in USA on video by Milestone Film & Video.

Described as "BATTLESHIP POTEMKIN on acid," I AM CUBA was a three-year labor of love by the talented international filmmaking team of great Georgian director Mikhail Kalatozov (THE CRANES ARE FLYING and THE LETTER NEVER SENT), writer-poets Yevgeni Yevtushenko (Russia) and Enrique Pineda Barnet (Cuba), Russian cinematographer Sergei Urusevsky and French actor Jean Bouise.

Released in United States on Video March 1, 1996

Released in United States Spring March 8, 1995

Released in United States April 26, 1993 (Shown at San Francisco International Film Festival April 26, 1993.)

Released in United States July 21, 1995 (Nuart; Los Angeles)

Released in United States September 1992 (Shown at Telluride Film Festival September 4-7, 1992.)

Re-released in United States September 16, 2005 (New York City; Shown with documentary "I AM CUBA, THE SIBERIAN MAMMOTH")

Released in United States December 8, 1995 (Chicago)

Re-released in United States December 23, 2005 (Los Angeles)