Habana Blues [2005]

Ruy (Alberto Joel Garcia Osorio) and dreadlocked buddy Tito (Roberto Sanmartin), the owner of a delicious red '52 Chevy, are the key members of Habana Blues, a band that plays rock-soul fusion. (Audiences' tolerance of the music, of which there's a lot, will partly determine whether they like the film as a whole.)

Ruy's commitment to his music means his relationship with Caridad (Yailene Sierra) is suffering: They have two kids and no cash, and she has dropped out of college to work. Tito lives with his spiky, cigar-smoking, ex-chanteuse grandmother, Luz Maria (the wonderful Zenia Marabal).

A disc-jockey contact introduces the boys to talent-spotting Spanish producers, Marta (Marta Calvo) and Lorenzo (Roger Pera), who make them an offer to leave Cuba for Spain, where they'll have a shot at the big time. However, Ruy is now sleeping with Marta, and Caridad decides to leave him and take the kids to try and start a new life in Miami.

Ruy is left facing the age-old dilemma of having to choose between fame and family -- and, less convincingly, given the basically commercial fare his band plays, between musical integrity and selling out. Once these questions are posed, not much else happens until they're resolved at the end in an affecting five-minute sequence. This is shot with a compression that would have been to pic's advantage had Zambrano employed it earlier, rather than faithfully recording every last gasp of every conversation. Too much of the second hour consists of going-nowhere bickering, which would work if Ruy and Tito were in some way really lovable rather than simply optimistic good-timers.

Thesp Garcia Osorio attempts to make Ruy interestingly complex but doesn't touch emotional base until the final reel, when it's too late. However, Ruy's wife, Caridad, is a terrific character, and Sierra makes the most of her opportunities.

Pic spends little time on the streets, which means Havana doesn't get the usual picturesque treatment, apart from a couple of aerial shots and a brief sequence under the rain. However, d.p. Jean Claude Larrieu's faithful documenting of dingy, dilapidated interiors -- including the magnificent abandoned theater where Habana Blues is planning to play -- is stunning.

Sound/playback co-ordination during the music sequences is superb, in line with pic's generally high-class tech credits