According to one character, the heat and humidity makes time pass slowly in the rural Cuban town of San Antonio. The nearly complete absence of economic activity does not help either. The slow speed of life somewhat appropriately gets a “slow cinema” treatment in Italian director-screenwriter Tommasso Santambrogio’s Oceans are the Real Continents, which is now playing in New York.
Alex and Edith are lovers, at least until she defects during her upcoming puppetry performance abroad. Aside from him, there isn’t much keeping her in Cuba—and he doesn’t seem to have much personality. Frank and Alain are kids, who can still amuse themselves. Yet they still dream of baseball glory in America. Milagros is a pilar of the community, but she lives in the past, constantly rereading the letters her late husband sent before he died serving as part of Cuba’s militaristic adventurism in Angola. Thanks in part to his sacrifice, Angola continues to be a one-party dictatorship, rated “unfree” by Freedom House.
This is definitely the sort of film that would have a much greater impact if some of its parts were broken down that it has in its current form. By far, the sequences featuring Milagros Llanes Martinez as her namesake are the most meaningful. There is no competition. Had her scenes been edited into a short film, it would be quite a powerful work. It is also worth noting several arrestingly composed scenes of Edith’s marionettes in performance, which might have also constituted a diverting short.
Unfortunately, the scenes with the children come across as aimless improvs that start with nothing and go nowhere. The vague storyline focusing on Edith Ybarra Clara and Alexander Diego coming to terms with the swan song of their love affair also lacks dramatic heft, mostly relying on sexual chemistry to keep viewers engaged.
If you adore long-held static shots, Santambrogio and cinematographer Lorenzo Casadio Vannucci have you covered. They capture the sad, decrepit beauty of a Cuba frozen in time. Unfortunately, Santambrogio cannot sufficiently build on that foundation. Milagros is an acutely tragic figure, but the film never fully conveys the hollow waste of her husband’s unnecessary demise. Honestly, there simply is not enough film there to recommend Oceans are the Real Continents, now playing at Film Forum.