Che aka The Argentine and The Guerilla
Country and Year: USA (2008)
Director: Steven Soderbergh
Starring: Benecio Del Toro, Franka Potente, Demian Bichir

Rating: 1.5 out of 4 stars (below average)
Review by: Charlie Prince

Early on in Steven Soderbergh’s four and a half hour love letter to the controversial communist hero Ernesto “Che” Guevera, we see that Che (played by Benecio Del Toro) is on a couch about to be interviewed on national American television as the face of the Cuban delegation to the United Nations. A producer asks him if he’d like some makeup before he goes on, to which he initially responds “no”, but then adds “well, maybe a little powder”. But after seeing the full 2-part film today at the 2008 Cannes Film Festival, I can confirm that what we have here is a complete makeup job — an effort to make Che look his absolute best. Divided into two films, The Argentine and The Guerilla and roughly corresponding with his rise to power in Cuba and his failed efforts in Bolivia, the editorial soft-lighting presents such a sunny portrayal of Che as to remove every last wrinkle. One moment we see him performing operations to help injured peasant children, and a minute later we see him taking a few minutes downtime from the revolutionary march to help comrades with their math lessons. On screen, he comes across as a level-headed, fair commander, who champions the voice of reason when food is scarce and tempers flare.

Although some may consider Soderbergh’s portrayal objective, I think it’s fair to acknowledge that Che is a controversial figure. For example, in real life Che is infamous for widely-available essays in which he proclaims that “hatred” is an important element of his philosophy. But in Soderbergh’s epic we hear none of this darker side, and instead see Che explain that the most important characteristic of the revolutionary is “love.” I suspect that after seeing this film, most viewers would be shocked to learn that the admirable Che portrayed on-screen here was the same man who, among other things, founded Cuba’s “labor camp” system — a system that deplorably went on to imprison gays, dissidents, and AIDS victims. Regardless of your political views, I bet most people will be disappointed to find that Soderbergh hasn’t put together a more balanced view of the controversial leader. And with a 4.5 hour running time, the director certainly can’t complain that he didn’t have enough time to do it.

As a result, Soderbergh’s opus is probably best understood as a reflection of today’s pop culture reinvention of Che. Today his image, particularly Korda’s “most famous picture in the world” version of Che, can be seen everywhere from t-shirts and backpacks to tattoos. The man who was once fiercely opposed to capitalism is now the brand at the center of a multi-million dollar merchandising empire, as was recently explored in the fascinating documentary Chevolution, which played at the 2008 Tribeca Film Festival. As that film shows convincingly, the bulk of people who proudly sport his image on their clothes often know little about the actual man and his politics (if I remember the documentary right, several people interviewed in that film seemed to think he was in a rock band). It would thus seem that today, Che’s image represents not violent revolution, Soviet-style communism or fiercely anti-capitalist sentiment, so much as a general icon of counterculture and unspecified rebellion, more akin to James Dean and Marlon Brando than Karl Marx or Mao. For those excited about today’s reinvention of Che, Soderbergh’s 2-part film is perfect. Here we get Che as an exciting, good looking and well-spoken rebel, without having to get caught up in the controversies of the real-life communist.

The first of the two films (which will probably be released as The Argentine) is constructed as an interview with a reporter reflecting back on his Cuban struggles; thus the story is told in flashbacks that mix and match the timeline. It begins with the journey of Che and Fidel Castro on a boat from Mexico to Cuba. Soderbergh will return to this sober, pensive moment periodically over the next four hours, in which we learn that of the 81 people who initially came over from Mexico in 1956, only 12 would survive to see the toppling of the Batista government in Cuba. Over the next hour, the filmmakers establish two key themes about our main character — he overcomes adversity, and he believes fervently that his cause is a just one. To illustrate his ability to overcome adversity, we watch as Che overcomes severe asthma problems on his journeys. We’re told that “for 10 days, I could only walk by leaning against the trees or the butt of my rifle.” And to drive home his convictions, we are treated to impressive stats, including that “1.5% of the population owns 76% of the land,” and that “half the people have no electricity”. Che explains that he knows they will win the war because he believes that men who have the desire to fight and understand why they are fighting will inevitably win, even with fewer forces and less powerful weapons. Che also explains what will become a core tenet in the film, raising questions about his future in Bolivia: revolutions are the result of the environment created by those who oppress the people. And in Cuba, at least, we see that this theory seems to work, as Batista soldiers routinely lose battles from a lack of will to fight.

Over the next hour, as the revolutionary effort expands and gets closer to Havana, what starts to come together is an image of Che as an efficient, fair manager, as we see him confronted by an endless stream of practical problems. A soldier is offended because another man is calling him a bad name? Che intervenes, clearing up that the name is actually “ventriloquist”, and meant affectionately. A senior officer fails to organize the night watch? Che will teach him a lesson by making that officer stand watch himself for all of the following night. A small handful of men are raping and pillaging in the name of Fidel’s revolution? Che will put an end to that. Over the course of these managerial challenges, not once does Che seem to lose his temper or treat his men unfairly. To underscore this portrayal, at several points we see him gather his troops to let them know that he understands this is a difficult journey, and that if anyone wants to leave, they may do so without consequence. His biggest challenge as a manager is when a heated conflict emerges among the troops of one division in which many soldiers believe a commander has unfairly killed a soldier. Che calms the mob of men who are demanding immediate execution, and at the expense of considerable popularity among his men, he insists that a fair trial be held, complete with those in defense of the accused and a vote of all the men to decide the soldier’s fate. When these incidents are taken together, Che comes across as a saint.

We also see Che developing his political skills. Although mostly told in brief snippets that flash on-screen periodically over the first two hours, we see him give various speeches at the United Nations and press the flesh at cocktail parties (at one point meeting with Senator McCarthy and thanking him for the Bay of Pigs fiasco as helpful to Che’s revolutionary efforts). Che’s political prowess becomes the subject of another character arc over the course of the film, starting out somewhat rough and culminating late in the film in a difficult negotiation in which Che must lead the efforts to reconcile multiple rigidly divided rebel factions. “I hope you’ve sharpened your political skills,” Fidel warns him going into these negotiations, predicting they will be very hairy. Through this process we also get a sense of the competing rebel factions, and various dividing issues such as whether or not to support a general strike or armed revolution, and whether to support agrarian reforms. Che explains to one reporter that only Castro’s method of armed rebellion would prove effective.

Finally we see Che portrayed as a humanitarian, healing the sick who cannot afford medical care, and hiring soldiers specifically for the purpose of educating his men. He particularly communicates the importance of literacy, at one point telling his men that “a country that cannot read and write is easily deceived.” He turns away young, would-be soldiers for being too young (at age 16) and offers fierce warnings to his troops not to mistreat the peasants. All of their food will be paid for and taken only with the consent of the owners. And this attitude is coupled with a projection of true humility. Not reflecting any sense of self-importance or ambition, he regularly makes statements de-emphasizing his role, responding to one major victory by saying “when people hate their government, it’s not to hard to take a town.”

And of course, because we already know how the story ends in Cuba, I hope I’m not giving too much away by revealing that they win their struggle in Cuba, prompting an only mildly-affected Che to explain to one trooper that “We just won the war, the revolution begins now.” But not on film it won’t, as this is where Soderbergh’s first film will end, and since the second film will focus on his efforts in Bolivia, no time is spent on-screen examining how Che’s revolutionary ideals were implemented once he was in power. This is a shame, as it would have afforded the filmmakers an interesting opportunity to acknowledge some of the controversies that have plagued Che’s reputation to this day.

I have less to say about the second film, The Guerilla, so I’ll keep this discussion short. Because we know going into it that the effort will not succeed, this film inevitably offers less of a narrative arc. At the same time, because we have seen the first film, it also offers us the opportunity to compare and contrast, essentially to ask why his efforts in Bolivia failed where his effort in Cuba was so successful? To go back to Che’s own assessment about the importance of the environment created by the region’s leaders, was the situation not ripe for revolution? Did the people lack the will to fight? Was it the lack of Fidel Castro? Or simply the fact that they start out with far fewer than the 81 men that began in Cuba? Several scenes offer possibilities for reflection, though none is conclusive. The most prominently shown implication is that Che’s international prominence from his Cuban efforts gave his enemies the opportunity to brand his movement as a “foreign” movement, thus undercutting his efforts to connect with the people. On-screen we see that he and his men struggle to attract any actual Bolivians once on the march, instead receiving installments of men who are trained in Cuba.

Another suggestion is that a series of simple tactical mistakes result in huge problems, prompting Che to address his men under the banner that they’ve all made mistakes thus far (Che’s mistake was he forgot to bring enough medicine, the fiend). The wonderful actress Franka Potente (of Run Lola Run fame) plays a key role in this second film, and also finds herself at the center of a costly mistake. Some of their problems are not of their own making, however, and in particular, a local leader Monje is unimpressed with their efforts. We later come to understand he has actively undermined them at every step. In a side meeting with the Bolivians in the group, Monje calmly explains that though they may die heroically, their effort is bound to fail because it is led by Cubans. But the most important explanation put forward as to why Che lost in Bolivia is the involvement of the United States, who we learn helped the Bolivian government organize a special squad specifically designed to stop the rebels, modeled on Vietnam war practices. In connection with these scenes, we see American military leaders debating whether Che’s presence is a calculated invasion of Bolivia by Fidel Castro. In the final showdown, Che is confronted by his triumphant enemy, in this case a Cuban whose father was killed by Che’s movement there. “This is where your adventures end, you foreign piece of” something or other, the Cuban man spits out at Che. They trade explanations as to why his efforts in Bolivia failed, which proves interesting. “If the peasants are so bad off, why didn’t they help you?” “Maybe they believed your lies.” “Or, maybe they never wanted you here to begin with.” Che ends the exchange hinting that maybe his failure will “wake up” future generations of guerillas.

Procedurally, the film has a real problem. While The Argentine is somewhat interesting for its flashback structure, it fails to generate any real excitement, and plays surprisingly flat considering the cast and subject matter. The Guerilla takes these problems to the next level, especially in the last hour, which mechanically recounts Che’s efforts tree-by-tree, as his troops, supplies and support dwindle. There’s no way audiences will rally behind this film as currently structured and so it will be interesting to see how the film is ultimately released. Realistically, while The Argentine ends on a triumphant note which theoretically could work well as a self-contained film given a little emotional fire, The Guerilla has less to say and is interesting primarily in its contrast with The Argentine. It’s hard to imagine the latter film working as a stand-alone film. I don’t know if that means the films will be shown together Grindhouse-style, or condensed into one long film, but no matter what, the distributors have a challenge on their hands.

So what to make of all this? Che is a polarizing celebrity, and inevitably what can only be described as a love letter to Che will naturally have some supporters and many opponents. Assuming the director is able to fix the structural problems, I suspect the political context will decide how the film is judged, likely fused with debates as to whether a more pros-and-cons portrayal would be better. On the plus side, the acting is excellent, and Del Toro in the key role provides an impressive, if somewhat subdued, performance (as an aside, Matt Damon also has a cameo). The cinematography didn’t stand out particularly, but it works well enough and isn’t a drawback (I do remember a few beautifully composed shots). The pacing in The Argentine could be strong if the emotional impact is improved, and while the historical reality that Che failed to achieve much in Bolivia helps to explain the flat storytelling in The Guerilla, it is also only fair to note that this may improve with time. In the leadup to Cannes announcing its final lineup this year, the widely believed speculation was that Soderbergh would not be able to finish the film in time for the festival, and so I suspect the structure and pacing (on the 2nd half especially) will improve given a little more time.

As to the political context, I’m no more qualified than my readers to evaluate this issue, and so will leave it to you to decide, noting only that I was disappointed that Soderbergh did not incorporate more critical views of Che to balance out the glowingly positive portrayal. I think that literally the only criticism offered up of Che in the four and a half hours is that he forgot his asthma medicine at one point, which slowed down the Bolivian troops. For a man as controversial as Che, that is pretty ridiculous. Of course, the film world already went through this recently with the Walter Salles film The Motorcycle Diaries, so perhaps the political reaction here will be more muted. But I doubt it, especially since while The Motorcycle Diaries dealt with Che in his early pre-political years, Soderbergh’s opus deals directly with him as the champion of armed communist revolution, so a political examination is more on-point.

I also can’t help but think of the lessons learned in the recent Chevolution documentary, which has me thinking about the phenomenon of his modern role as a pop culture icon for sale. Like James Dean and so many other celebrated young pop icons, it seems probable that his “rebel” status only works because of his early demise. Can you imagine a Che Guevera who like Fidel Castro is still alive today, presiding over a modern Cuba in which citizens are forbidden to own cell phones and everyone drives 50 year old cars? I suspect that this realization has profound implications on his modern-day pop culture status, as well as on how we should interpret the recent proliferation of films about Che. And so in conclusion, I’ll repeat what I said at the beginning of this review: the best way to evaluate this inexplicably sunny bio-pic is in light of Che the modern-day icon, rather than the more complex and controversial figure that underlies it.

© Charlie Prince

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