hugoimdb When we hear about Cuba, what usually comes to mind is its communist regime. It's one of the traits that distinguish the island from the other Caribbean and Latin American countries in general. Therefore, when talking about a Cuban film, it's quite tempting to make some political remarks. That is unavoidable with "Fresa y Chocolate", a 1993 film that's loaded with political content, but without a clear sense of ideological propaganda against or in favour of the system.The story begins when a university student member of the Communist Party meets a gay artist who doesn't like the regime. Davi, the communist boy, with the support of a roommate who's also a party member, decides to investigate the life of Diego, the political dissident, with the aim of denouncing him to the authorities. However, the relationship between the informal investigator and the suspect assumes unexpected features, giving place to a sincere friendship that leads the naive Davi to understand and to learn how to deal with the subversive differences represented by Diego.Some subtle criticisms are made about the regime, whose authoritarian nature is exemplified by the episode in which Diego tries to obtain a permit for an art exhibition. The harmless sculptures made by his friend Germán are banned, and Diego feels the reason for that is simple: works of art that are free of ideological propaganda in favour of the regime have no place in the island of Fidel Castro.At home, Diego often has to turn on the radio at a volume high enough so the neighbours won't be able to hear some of his conversations that might sound like defying the official ideology. It might be seen as a criticism against the lack of freedom of thought that's typical of authoritarian regimes, but it might also be interpreted as a proof of the high popular support for that same regime: even your neighbors collaborate with the authorities in the repression of political dissent.Nevertheless, there's also place for apologetic comments about the regime, as when Davi emphasizes the fact that he can go to university despite being the son of peasant parents.Leaving aside the political element, the human relationship between Diego and Davi unfolds in a captivating and convincing way. Davi is the typical straight guy who fears having his masculinity shaken by the contact with gay men. But little by little he lets his defences fall down until he's open enough for creating a trustful and intimate relationship with his new friend.Meanwhile, Diego is an effeminate man who has an intense love for art in general and shows an atypical erudition. At first, he shows a strong sexual interest in Davi, but he soon realizes that the young communist man is an irreversible straight guy and then he stops his flirtatious behaviour and chooses to build a disinterested friendship instead.Some moments make it clear that homosexuality is frowned upon by the official ideology. Homophobic remarks are often made by Davi's communist roommate. He's even "accused" of having an affair with Diego. Davi himself asks Diego why his family didn't take him to the doctor as a child so he could be cured from that "endocrinal disease". Diego laughs and says that being gay is something that has happened since the dawn of the world, and that it doesn't prevent him from being a decent and patriotic person. But Davi insists that homosexuality prevents him from being a revolutionary."Fresa y Chocolate" is at the same time enjoyable and thought- provoking, and gives us an opportunity to observe a portrait of the Cuban society from a surprisingly impartial perspective.

Edgar Soberon Torchia "Fresa y chocolate" has more historical significance than cinematic merits: for the first time, a film from revolutionary Cuba openly treated homosexuality, from a point of view that it's too "safe" to create a controversy. It was greeted with great enthusiasm by Cuban homosexuals, including those that were victims of persecution during the 1970. But I am sorry to say that, being myself a mature homosexual from the Capitalist world who has gone through all kind of persecutions in life --literal and symbolic-- I find the story too clichéd and manipulative, and the main character a sad figure from the past, trapped in time and space. When it was made Tomás Gutiérrez Alea, whose masterpiece "Memorias del subdesarrollo" (1968) is among the best films of world cinema of all times, was terminally ill, so Juan Carlos Tabío (whose forte is comedy, including the classic "Demasiado miedo a la vida o Plaf") had to share the direction. The script by Senel Paz is tame, Vladimir Cruz is miscast and the whole affair is a bit boring and demodé.

RResende Cinema is an art in itself and not a sum of arts. That is because it has specific things that can't be made alone by any other art. Now, what exactly can make cinema an art of its own is arguable but will always have something to do with passing anything through moving images:. storytelling . a mood, an atmosphere . factall three are worth exploring. In Fresa y chocolate, the problem is there is an apparent mixture of all three, which can exist, but not like exposed in here. The device was clear and apparently effective: a simple story inside Story. never mind the simple story, it's the least important. The Story is the whole Cuba context. Go to the general, pick up an episode (that may represent or not, fact) and from there build the mood, the atmosphere. This last step was what failed. And it was for a non definition on the "eye" of the camera. By giving all the ingredients, all the passwords to the contained world (island) and to its specific context, it should have been shown. I've been to Cuba, there was not much lacking for me, i know what i didn't see in the picture, but by focusing on dialog (that could for its meaning come embedded on the mood) and by not having an eye for the street, for the people, for the city, the project lost a big deal. It had everything to be a film about a city. Story inside space, since the story we are told is clearly typical, one in many. it may have been political issues behind, and it is of great importance that this film could have been made, versing such locally heavy themes. But that's my main critic, Gutiérrez Alea had an excellent eye for portrait, and for placing stories in context, but he lacked the sense of the place, in terms of senses (modd, atmosphere). Even though a good document, worth watching, excellent character development, excellent performances also. Diego's house (and the dialogs that go with it) contain excellent underline thoughts, the dialogs are filled (i didn't read the original story) with messages, in a not so subtle way. Also a note for the excellent use of the color (very Cuban).My evaluation: 3/5

Libretio STRAWBERRY AND CHOCOLATE (Fresa y Chocolate) Aspect ratio: 1.85:1Sound format: Ultra-StereoUsed as an unwitting pawn by his pro-revolutionary colleagues, a naive student (Vladmir Cruz) is encouraged to develop a platonic relationship with a flamboyant gay artist (Jorge Perugorria), whose political allegiances have fallen under suspicion. But as their friendship deepens, Cruz is transformed by Perugorria's resistance to the Cuban regime, even as the forces of oppression begin to close around them.Based on a short story ('El Lobo, el Bosque y el Hombre Nuevo') by screenwriter Senel Paz, STRAWBERRY AND CHOCOLATE is a joyous celebration of life and non-conformity, distinguished by Perugorria's vivid performance as a self-proclaimed 'outsider' who rejects his friend's unquestioning loyalty to the Cuban political system that is stifling their beloved homeland. Their budding relationship is complicated by Perugorria's unrequited love for Cruz, depicted here with dignity and compassion, though it's their political differences which ultimately unite the two characters, even as Perugorria is forced to reap the whirlwind of his public defiance. Also starring Mirta Ibarra as Perugorria's flaky neighbor, who introduces virginal Cruz to the joys of sexual liberation! It isn't a terribly cinematic film, but production values are solid, and the characters are played with such integrity, it hardly matters; this is a movie in which ideas take precedence over action, and the emotional payoff is quite powerful indeed. Beautiful music score by Jose Maria Vitier, too. Directed by Tomás Gutiérrez Alea and Juan Carlos Tabío.NB. The original US version (released by Miramax) is missing approximately six minutes of footage. Absent material includes a brief conversation about racism during Cruz's first visit to Perugorria's apartment, and a sad little sequence in which the two characters pretend not to notice each other after meeting by accident in a bookstore.(Spanish dialogue)