HFFNY ’09: La Mala

Lena Burke (a.k.a. just plain Lena) is the daughter and grand-daughter of famous Cuban singers: Malena and Elena Burke, respectively. So, it is fitting that in her motion picture debut, Burke plays a singer who could be described as the legendary vocalist La Lupe’s spiritual heir. She generates plenty of musical and dramatic heat as the budding Latin music superstar protagonist in Lilian Rosado & Pedro Pérez-Rosado’s La Mala (trailer here), screening at the 10th Havana Film Festival New York.

As the film opens in provincial Puerto Rico, Yolanda’s very pregnant mother has just married her ostensive father, while her La Lupe worshipping aunt Candela belts out a tune that would make her idol proud. Yet, “Yoli” will be the true musical talent of the family. Of course, as in every rags-to-riches story, her childhood will not be easy, requiring her to endure her father’s serial philandering and the tragic death of a young lover. Actually, suffering in silence is not her strong suit, but she can definitely sing, adopting Candela’s idol as her role model.

Yoli’s family relations might be torturous, but her musical ability is clear. Indeed, there are some thoroughly entertaining musical numbers, including a smolderingly hot Latin version of Cooley & Blackwell’s “Fever,” Peggy Lee’s signature song. The originals certainly have their moments too, featuring lyrics that slyly reflect Yoli’s off-stage drama.

One of the real surprises of Mala is the humor of its screenplay. This is not Terms of Endearment with a Latin score. The dialogue can be viciously cutting and downright ribald. While following the general story-arc of musical dramas, Mala has its own distinct sensibility. However, it fumbles somewhat a particularly dark turn of events late in the film, largely ignoring the emotional consequences, which creates credibility problems.

In general though, Mala is surprisingly enjoyable, featuring some excellent ensemble performances. Burke displays strong acting chops in addition to her dynamic vocals. As her cigar-chomping father, Jorge Perugorria has a certain Robert Pastorelli quality, nicely fleshing out what could otherwise have been an unsympathetic stock character.

Despite its family chaos, Mala never bogs down in melodrama. It chugs along at a brisk pace, staging plenty of high-energy musical performances. If not high cinematic art, it is an expectedly fun film. It screens again Tuesday afternoon at the Quad Cinema.

HFFNY ’09: Omerta

When Castro came to power, he nationalized everything, including organized crime. Of course, you will not hear about the drug traffickers and narco-terrorists doing business with the dictator in contemporary Cuban cinema, but they would horrify the old school gangster protagonist of Pavel Giroud’s crime thriller, Omerta (trailer here), which screens during this year’s Havana Film Festival New York.

It is 1961, and Giroud takes pains to include plenty of state broadcasts trumpeting the revolutionary triumphs of the new regime. However, once the propaganda is out of the way, Omerta settles into an entertaining crime story. Rolo Santos is a proud man, who lived by a code: Omerta. As the former bodyguard of an American gangster, Santos is now at loose ends in the new Cuba. Finally, word of an assignment comes from a former associate—they must break into the boss’s confiscated mansion to recover a hidden cache of gold.

Unfortunately, Santos’s old friend dies before they can carry out the job, leaving him with a ne’er-do-well nephew as his replacement. Together with a cab-driver reluctantly recruited by Santos, they hit the mansion. However, instead of gold, they find the long-time maid still on duty. Much to Santos’s regret, he quickly finds himself immersed in a hostage situation, holding a copper and the woman for whom he has long carried a torch.

The relationship between Santos and his would-be love gives Omerta surprising heart thanks to the chemistry between Cuban actor Manuel Porto and Spanish actress Teresa Calo, which suggests years of history between the two. Their intimate moments during this time of crisis, like a nostalgic dance they share between calls from the police, are indeed quite touching.

As for the caper, Giroud efficiently maintains the tension, throwing in some interesting wrinkles along the way. Although there are plenty of flashbacks, Omerta’s timeline is always easy to follow and the pacing never flags. While the supporting players might not have the considerable screen-presence of Porto and Calo, they are certainly serviceable in their roles.

Despite hewing to the requisite party line, Omerta is an entertaining and even endearing period noir. For sophisticated viewers able to parse diegetic propaganda, it is worth screening. It plays again at the HFFNY this coming Monday afternoon (4/20).

HFFNY ’09: Mare, Our Love Story

It is hard for the young people of Rio’s Maré favela to believe in love. However, a dedicated dance instructor thinks she has a project to inspire them—a hip-hop production of Romeo & Juliet. Of course, considering how the original ended, she certainly seems to be tempting fate in Lúcia Murat’s Brazilian musical Maré, Our Love Story (trailer here), which screens this weekend at the 10th annual Havana Film Festival New York.

Murat opens Maré with an inventively staged musical number that effectively introduces viewers to the favela neighborhood. It conveys a place teeming with life, but where danger is ever-present, as the young energetic dancers are forced to mix with equally young gang-members armed to the teeth. Maré is a favela divided by gang colors. Red and blue never mix, except in Fernanda’s dance studio. There Analídia, the daughter of the imprisoned red founder, secretively falls in love with Jonatha, whose adopted brother leads the blues and sponsors their studio.

Analídia and Jonatha are indeed Romeo and Juliet. She even has a balcony, but Murat does not go there. Maré is also reasonably faithful to Shakespeare’s ending, but Murat gives it a slight twist. As the star-crossed lovers, Vinícius D'Black and Cristina Lago are quite charismatic on-screen, displaying legitimate chemistry in their scenes together. They also have mad dancing skills, which is Maré’s real attraction.

In addition to the knock-out opening sequence, Maré also another highly memorable dance number that literally stops traffic. It is sort of a darker version of a scene from Fame, which seems to foreshadow the tragedy to come. Throughout the film, the dancing is frequently spectacular, nicely accompanied by the high-octane Brazilian hip-hop, mixed with a bit of funk. The more traditional Brazilian sounds are only heard once, but it offers an opportunity for D’Black to demonstrate his talent for singing harmony.

Over the next two weeks, three films about the world of Brazilian dancers will screen in New York. Fernanda hopes to secure international ballet scholarships for Analídia and Jonatha as their ticket out of the favela. After screening a documentary about the ballet students pursuing those scholarships, such a plan for her students seems unrealistic. (Not that it particularly matters.) Regardless, Fernanda tragically and inevitably fails.

Maré is a highly entertaining movie musical that ought to have breakout potential if it ever gets a distribution push. It is true to the spirit of Shakespeare’s tragedy, while also reflecting the desperate realities of contemporary favela life. It screens again today at the Quad as part of the HFFNY.