Spotlight

Spotlight Date: 29-February-04
Spoiler Rating: Medium

Strawberry and Chocolate (1995)

Back in 1995, Strawberry and Chocolate gave me the kind of delicious treat that I almost never get anymore: a cinematic surprise. Invited by someone I hardly knew (and lost touch with soon afterward), I went into the movie with little knowledge of what to expect, and I came out thoroughly entranced by its characters, its message, and its vision of Cuba, which struck me for the first time as a place I would like to explore. Scripted by writer Senel Paz from his own short story, Strawberry and Chocolate cleverly uses cultural and historical themes to enhance personal ones (or is it the other way around?), delivering a memorable drama that is both universal and rooted to a particular time and place.

The movie centers on David (Vladimir Cruz), a university student in Havana who proudly views himself as a devoted, patriotic, and up-and-coming young communist. Early in the film, David's well-laid plans start to go awry when his girlfriend marries another man. Soon after, he is approached by a homosexual freethinker named Diego (the ravishing, grey-eyed Jorge Perugorria), who lures him to his apartment under false pretenses and attempts to seduce him with forbidden books, worldly ways, and an open mind. Driven by equal parts curiosity and duty, David pursues a tentative acquaintance with Diego and his flighty, fragile neighbor Nancy (Mirta Ibarra), which eventually leads him to ways of thinking that extend beyond the party line and deepen his understanding of himself and his country. Diego, meanwhile, experiences revelations of his own, so that neither man finds quite what he had expected in the end.

Strawberry and Chocolate takes place almost entirely in Diego's apartment, creating an intimate environment (a hothouse, if you will) in which the characters can blossom. (Considering that this is Cuba, the analogy is apt.) At first, it's fascinating to watch the two men dance around each other with questionable motivations (David's political, Diego's predatory) and then begin to discover new and better reasons for mutual interest. Diego is pleasantly surprised to learn that behind David's desirable body and occasionally hilarious ignorance lies an individual capable of profound thought and expression, while David takes refuge in the fact that Diego is infinitely more knowledgeable and less hypocritical than everyone else he knows. As the movie progresses, it's touching to observe the affection that develops between them, until the forces of sexuality, culture, and Castro that so affect all other aspects of their lives cease to define their relationship, and it becomes the one arena in which they are truly themselves.

In addition to the major themes of friendship and oppression, Strawberry and Chocolate left me thinking about how a movie that takes such clear aim at the status quo ever got made or got out of Cuba. Apparently, the great love of their country that both David and Diego evince (though in very different ways) satisfied what censors the government employs; or, perhaps, it was the fact that the film is directed by Tomas Gutierrez Alea, an early supporter of Castro who helped to get Cuba's film industry off the ground. Whatever the reason for its availability, fans of good movies should rejoice that the picture is readily available on video, so that they can indulge in the sweet pleasures of Strawberry and Chocolate.

Copyright © 2004 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.