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 Tuesday, May 21, 2013
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RAFAEL MERINO CORTÉS
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Image: Picturehouse
No matter who does what, the bitchin’ and moaning will spew across
broadsheets, tabloids, glossy magazine pages and zany blogs. Icons such
as Hector Lavoe become art themselves after they pass away. For every
fan, friend and foe that was touched, there is a personal story about
the icon looking to be heard, searching for empathy.
So the question is, ‘whose personal story does it come close to, and
why does it matter?’ Well, we know that Nilda "Puchi" Rosado, Hector
Lavoe’s wife, is the person telling the story. And Jennifer Lopez, who
plays Puchi, makes that blatantly clear at the beginning — it’s her story,
punto! And since they are the ones putting the film together, this is
what we get. However, the filmmakers also have a responsibility to
deliver a good, entertaining movie to the general public (and
investors). And, of course, there is so much more about Hector Lavoe
beyond this relationship.
So yes, “El Cantante” delivers the goods, and even manages to
achieve incredible moments. However, Hector’s ascension to the hearts,
souls and high heels of millions does not seem to be clear from Puchi’s
point of view. The story (written by David Darmstaedter and Todd
Anthony Bello) and direction (Leon Ichaso) staggers between Hector’s
addiction to music, life and being in another place other than the
present. You get the sense that scenes were left out, even if you don’t
know anything about Hector. The narrative jumps between a jazz funeral
and a rebel insurgency, as seen by an innocent bystander. We witness
the love and victories of a stranger wrestling against incredible odds
— even when those odds are self-inflicted. Like marveling at a shooting
star streaking across the sky, we’re not sure where it came from, but
that doesn’t take away from the excitement. We know there’s hurt and
death around the corner for Hector, but for now we sing and dance, even
if we’re not sure why at times.
In essence, Jennifer Lopez takes us on tour with Hector Lavoe, and
we get to hang out backstage, which isn’t always a glamorous place. But
while Mrs. Lopez is trying to tell us a story, Mr. Ichaso and
cinematographer Claudio Chea are shooting a music video and a photo
essay on heroin use. But perhaps that may have been the preferred
method of delivery.
Highlights of the film include a scene where Hector performs “Aguanile”
on stage and is intercut with scenes of him visiting a santera (an
Afro-Caribbean priestess). And there’s a brief yet moving scene in a
small lounge where a young Ruben Blades (performed with cool refinement
by another salsa icon, Victor Manuel) passes on “El Cantante,” the
song, to Hector. In a fluid series of shots and sound design, the
filmmakers then deliver us to Hector’s rendition of the title song.
These two scenes alone are worth the price of admission.
Of course, the loyalists will beg for more nuances regarding Hector and
Willie's relationship, the other women in his life (including Carmen
Castro and their son, José Alberto Pérez), the ruthless music industry
characters and negotiations and, of course, the big, Earth-shaking
shows.
The promotional concert for "The Rumble in the Jungle" fight (Muhammad
Ali vs. George Foreman) in Zaire (Republic of the Congo) and the
monumental Fania All-Stars show at Yankee Stadium in 1975 are among the
epic points in Hector’s career not depicted in “El Cantante.” But
events as those, chuck-full of wonderful characters, are so great they
could be movies all on their own. And of all the things Puchi talks
about, she never says there should be no other story of Hector Lavoe.
However, in this first big-screen rendition, “El Cantante” is a
dazzling journey on and off the stage, and some of the scenes are
mind-blowing works of choreography and filmmaking. But even with that,
"The creators of El Cantante missed an opportunity to do something of
relevance for our community," according to Willie Colón. "The real
story was about Hector fighting the obstacles of a non-supportive
industry that took advantage of entertainers with his charisma and
talent.”
Few would argue the relevance of Willie Colón’s take on Hector Lavoe’s
life and the music industry at that time (and few would argue more
screen time for Hector and Willie’s friendship and professional
relationship would have been appreciated). Conversely, there’s a reason
why today’s young generation of Puerto Ricans in New York and elsewhere
know very little about Hector Lavoe and the lives of so many other
important figures in the Puerto Rican and greater Latino community.
Arguably, the attempts to present “something of relevance for our
community” on this scale has been few and far in between. And God knows
our public school system would do worse teaching our children about our
heritage than Leon Ichaso on crack.
Thankfully, things are slowly changing. So even if we don’t see Willie
Colón’s version of salsa history on the big screen soon (Mr. Colón was
a consultant and musician for “El Cantante”), the interest has been
raised. Willie Colón, Ralph Mercado, Johnny Pacheco, Eddie Palmieri,
Ruben Blades and others will likely be searched (or Googled) by new or
born-again salsa enthusiasts. And this is really what it’s all about,
after all — bringing the dialogue back to the mass consciousness. And,
oh yea, making money at the box office is important, too!
And if you catch the film in theaters as opposed to waiting for the
DVD, you may experience something that is best shared in a crowded
movie house. There are wonderful cultural nuances that turn into
electricity when processed in a room full of other Boricuas and
Latinos. And there is the trick of this film: on the one hand, I can
see it being difficult for non-Latinos to fully appreciate and fill in
the gaps (and thereby give it questionable, and non-sensical reviews)
and on the other hand it managed to do something really special — it
became a group outing. I remember days before its release hearing
people trying to coordinate groups of friends and family to go watch
the film (that’s how I saw it). When was the last time you did that for
a movie? Then again, when was the last time there was a film depicting
a legendary Latino (oh yea, "The Motorcycle Diaries," in 2004). The
film makes you feel good about taking that subway ride and spending the
eleven dollars. And again, when was the last time you felt that? For
all its faults, this is the kind of film theater houses were built for.
People clapped in the theater, something else you don’t experience
often (like when you land in San Juan in a plane full of Puerto Ricans
after a 3 1/2-hour flight from New York). Some folks were dressed up.
Perhaps they were going out after the film. Or maybe they just knew
other Latinos would be there, maybe old friends, family members or
potential partners, and wanted to look their best.
So for all its alleged shortcomings, “El Cantante” delivered a bright,
cultural experience beyond the dark theater and for less than what I
paid for a night at the Copacabana or the Palladium (not including
drinks), places we danced to Hector Lavoe and Willie Colón, which no
longer exist.
RAFAEL MERINO CORTÉS
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