Che (Criterion)

Reviewer: Jonathan Poritsky
Rating (out of 5): Che Part One (The Argentine): ****
Che Part Two (Guerilla): ****½

When it comes to Steven Soderbergh, there seem to be two camps of people who follow his work. One believes he is one of the most prolific, diverse and surprising American filmmakers working today. The other thinks he is a gutless Hollywood shill whose art-house fare hardly makes up for his blockbuster shlock. (I've seen both these camps posting and commenting on various film blogs.) Divided into two parts, the two films comprising Che seem to prove why both sides are right and wrong. Part One smacks of a glossy studio biopic while Part Two delves deep into the psyche of a revolutionary being. In other words, Soderbergh gets to have his cake and eat it too.

Che Part One follows Ernesto “Che” Guevara, played brilliantly by Benicio del Toro, through his successful and famous campaign through Cuba. Cinematically, this film picks up almost exactly where Walter Salles’ The Motorcycle Diaries leaves off. In that film, Gael Garcia Bernal plays a lithe, silky, almost prepubescent version of Guevara curiously bouncing around South America, incubating his mission. Del Toro fills out a much more grown up version of the character. His whole physicality, from the bags under his eyes to his lumbering gait, exudes that of a man who has seen some serious shit. Featuring sporadic use of voice over and flash forwards to New York City in 1964, this is the Guevara biopic that Hollywood would make if they could put some weight behind a real live Marxist. This Che is the sillhouette who adorns smoky dorm rooms the world over: a rock star. But only just so.

Peter Buchman’s screenplay and Soderbergh’s verité-style cinematography (credited to his usual pseudonym, Peter Andrews) provide a straightforward accounting of the asthmatic leader. We are in the jungle alongside the rebels fighting what seems like a futile battle; one can almost smell the dankness. The film climaxes with a phenomenal battle sequence in Santa Clara, during which Che effectively wins the fight for Cuba. The whole sequence feels like the exteriors in Sidney Lumet’s Dog Day Afternoon; real, yet surreal. The plasticity of film, if anything, makes this sequence probably less surreal than it was in real life. It is a beautiful bit of bloody cinema that makes the whole journey worth the wait.

Che Part Two is a different beast entirely. Ditching the widescreen aspect ratio and some glitzier devices, this film is a sober look at man futilely trying to strike lighting twice. If Part One is Che’s making, Part Two is his undoing. Ultimately, I have higher regard for this film because it shows a side of Guevara I have absolutely no frame of reference for. If this were a studio biopic, the Bolivian campaign that makes up the plot of this film would be wrapped up nice and neat in about twenty minutes.

Though Guevara posthumously took on the role of a Christ, in Part Two the myth plays as more of an Odysseus, an aging hero whose hubris gets the best of him. He is fighting a war for a people who don’t want a savior. Originally, this film was titled Guerilla, which seems to act as a moniker for the protagonist just as Part One*s original title*, The Argentine, does. However, here I think guerilla refers not to the man but to the movement. Known for literally writing the book on guerilla warfare, in Part Two the tactics that brought him success and acclaim become Che's greatest enemy as he is smoked out by U.S.-trained Bolivian militants. The Guerilla is out guerilla-ed, as it were.

Each film opens with an overture featuring a map; Cuba for the first film, South America for the second. Each is revealed to a haunting score by Alberto Iglesias (who has scored several Almodovar films). Part Two’s overture plays more like a horror film than the first, showing Bolivia set against the vastness of South America. This is the belly of the beast whereas Cuba is, literally, an island unto itself. The latter, winnable, the former, impenetrable. The effect is phenomenal. (I wish I knew who designed the sequence so I could praise them here, but alas there is no “Title Sequence by” in the credits.)

Che is by no means a perfect set of films, but it is a truly remarkable feat of cinema by any measure. The discs are chock full of goodies, including a featurette about working with RED Digital Cinema. This was the first feature shot on the nascent camera system, so technophiles in particular will love this extra, but anyone can learn a lot from the technical side of this film. Steven Soderbergh is a voracious maker, always trying to make whatever film comes to mind as soon as he can. By shooting this movie on video, he was able to bring his impulsiveness to the entire process. The result is a film that will stick with you, assuming you stick with it for it's four hour running time.