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Series: Soul Eater: Part Two
Release date: 26th July 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 325 mins
Director: Takuya Igarashi
Starring: Chiaki Omigawa, Kouki Uchiyama, Akeno Watanabe, Emiri Katou, Houko Kuwashima
Genre: Anime
Studio: Manga
Format: DVD
Country: Japan
Directed and designed by the same creative team that brought us the cult-hit Fullmetal Alchemist, the second instalment of Soul Eater arrives on these shores to an army of expectant anime fans.
Soul Eater takes place in the Death Weapon Meister Academy. Here we follow the exploits of one class of students as they strive to understand the full extent of their powers. But this is a complex matter in Death City, where people can morph into weaponry, and the resonance of one’s soul can become a matter of life and death. For the students to progress to the level of Death Scythe, they must collect the souls of ninety-nine humans and one witch, the witches being the death meister’s mortal enemy.
Matters complicate further when the head of the academy, Lord Death, reveals that there is a terrible Kishan (demon) sleeping underneath the grounds of the institute. The city is attacked by a tribe of witches who seek to unleash the Kishan, and soon student and master are having to band together to save the world from a selection of terrifying and surreal enemies.
With each episode, more is revealed about our characters and just how unstable they actually are. Head lecturer Dr. Frankenstein begins to reveal his psychotic nature, the Demon Sword becomes trapped in his own self-loathing, and Lord Death’s son is increasingly incapacitated by his Obsessive Compulsive Disorder…
The first episode on this release sets this series up like it’s going to be a goth-lite version of Naruto. Just another in a long line of disappointing and lacklustre anime shows. Its mix of ‘school-life’ melodrama and ultra-violent swordplay seem like a desperate attempt to hook in that all important teenage audience. But patience is rewarded, and as soon as the introductions are over, Soul Eater comes thrillingly to life.
Critics of anime will always refer to the use of impenetrable storylines and hokum technicalities, and Soul Eater will do little to change their minds. However, the fantasy logic of Death City is slowly drip-fed to the audience, which saves rambling, boring exposition getting in the way of explosive action. What begins as mystifying and woefully complex starts to become strangely logical and easy-to-follow. Before you are aware of having had any explanation, you suddenly begin to understand the combat jargon and labyrinthine back-story.
Once the story and characters have all been set up, all that is left to do is enjoy the battle sequences, which thanks to Takuya Igarshi’s eyes for direction and team of talented animators are slick, fast-paced and hugely entertaining. People morph into dragons and rip through the sky; huge golems wield chainsaws; people transform into weapons, laying waste to entire towns, with apocalyptic fireballs and waves of flashing lights... They may not be subtle, or even logical, but the level of imagination and spectacle is, at times, truly astounding.
What makes Soul Eater even more impressive is that while you are being dazzled by the kinetic and frenzied fight sequences, you are slowly introduced to a collection of characters, who due to, or perhaps because of their faults and dark compulsions are very likeable. Each struggles with their own psychological concerns and dilemmas, something which becomes more apparent as the series progresses. It is here that the gothic-dressing of earlier episodes makes way for a more adult and sometimes frightening darkness. The Demon Sword’s back-story is one of horrifying child-abuse, and when the academy’s dormant Kishan rises, he begins a campaign of infectious madness with truly sinister results.
But with all this darkness, there comes a knowing humour sadly lacking from a lot of gothic anime, making this all the more enjoyable. During one of Lord Death’s speeches, he seems to openly admit that what is going on makes little sense, and the unexplained appearance of the infuriating Excalibur, a Moomen-esque creature with a superiority complex, hilariously brings the storyline to a grinding halt. Moments such as these stop the admittedly po-faced pretension of some of the proceedings, and keep this show more on the side of pure visual entertainment.
Soul Eater will do little to convert the anime-phobic, but this is a title which rewards patience. An exciting show populated with likeable characters, spectacular action and a welcome strain of the macabre. AC
Film: Soul Eater: Part One
Release date: 28th June 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 325 mins
Director: Takuya Igarashi
Starring: Chiaki Omigawa, Kouki Uchiyama, Akeno Watanabe, Emiri Katou, Houko Kuwashima
Genre: Anime
Studio: Manga
Format: DVD
Country: Japan
Based on the manga written and illustrated by Atsushi Okubo, Soul Eater was first released as three separate one-shots serialised in two Gangan Powered special editions and one Gangan Wing issue way back in 2003. The anime first appeared on TV Tokyo in 2008. Finally available on DVD, part one brings together the first 13 episodes.
At the Death Weapon Meister Academy (DWMA), Maka and her partner, human-weapon Soul, have collected the spirits of 99 evil mortals, needing just one from a witch to transform Soul into a death scythe - a weapon of great power that will retain order and balance to Death City. Failing, the gifted youngsters have to start all over again, but they’re not alone.
The cocky but gifted Black Star and his weapon partner Tsubaki struggle to form a workable relationship whilst new student Death the Kid must overcome his aversion to asymmetry if he and his partners Liz and Patty are to succeed in bringing down the destructive enemies threatening to collect non-evil human souls to transform one of their own into a Kishin - an evil demon God that would plunge the world into madness…
Soul Eater, like its main antagonist Medusa, is a beautiful but flawed creature. Packed with salacious humour, lengthy action sequences and stylish imagery it demands attention. Its influences can be traced all the way to genres as disparate as British Hammer Horror (with its mad scientists and mummies) and Poliziotteschi films (episode seven takes place in a crime-riddled Italy), though neither can compete with the brashness of old-school Shounen Manga.
Its audaciousness irritates just as much as it fascinates, especially in the opening episodes when we are introduced to the three main protagonists. Excluding Maka and her human-weapon Soul, the other two, Black Star especially, are just plain annoying. Whilst Death Kid’s struggle to cope with anything not evenly shaped brings levels of playground humour, Black Star’s cockiness brings nothing but maddening frustration - episode two is a real struggle until its ‘Shadow Star’ finale finally hits the right notes. In fairness, as the story progresses, the two characters become less of a headache, but it’s very hard to root for something that rattles your cage so much.
Bursting with invention and a slew of impressive weapons certain to delight all, Soul Eater’s pace is fast and furious with a delirious score of rock and hip-hop to keep things wild and rowdy right from the polished opening credits. Sadly, the interest in its lengthy opening sequence wanes after a few episodes, and the lure of the skip chapter function on the remote control is too difficult to resist. Even some of the episodes suffer from being more filler than killer - the main plot lost in the sheer effort to make even the most banal show ludicrously entertaining.
This isn’t a massive problem - the fight scenes ripped straight from the best beat-em-ups are for the most part a joy to behold; and its humour, although aimed at teenage boys mostly, is often titillating and right on the money. Episode nine, introducing the legend that is Excalibur, is a complete riot thanks to its clever twisting of a classic tale. Director Takuya Igarashi is in no rush to reveal the main plot, which is just as well seeing as there are 51 episodes in total, but it’s his use of lingering shots and moments of complete silence that pack an unexpected emotional punch.
Soul Eater’s universe is a joy to behold - even the sun and the moon have personalities, inspired by Okubo’s favourite manga Dr. Slump. It’s this attention to detail that really satisfies - the concept of arrows pointing out the obvious, or simply to show us where we should be looking is innovative and amusing, whilst the inclusion of madcap characters ripped from other genres setting it apart from the crowd. Takuya is well aware of his target audience’s expectations, and he truly delivers the goods. But he’s also savvy enough to incorporate emotion and depth to his characters, and the world that encompasses them, which could, if given the chance, appeal to more than just horny teenage boys (the female characters are clearly the strongest, the males stupid for the most part).
Not only is Soul Eater a feast for the eyes, sticking faithfully to Atsushi Okubo’s original work, it’s also packed with boisterous witticisms, be it verbal or visual, and brilliantly realised personas (even the most deranged antagonists are somehow endearing). In short, Soul Eater is a riot from start to finish. Whether it can sustain as much interest over another 38 episodes remains to be seen (it does seem like a ridiculously long ride), but for now, part two can’t come quick enough.
Regardless of its deficiencies, annoying protagonists and moments of banality, movie fans will find plenty in the inventive Soul Eater to keep them entertained. From mind-boggling action to bawdy humour, from astounding imagery to a pumping soundtrack, this first-rate anime has it all. DW
Film: Shadows Of Forgotten Ancestors
Release date: 10th May 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 92 mins
Director: Sergei Paradjanov
Starring: Ivan Mikolajchuk, Larisa Kadochnikova, Tatyana Bestayeva, Spartak Bagashvili
Genre: Drama
Studio: Artificial Eye
Format: DVD
Country: Russia
Based on the book Tini Zabutykh Predkiv (translates to Shadows Of Forgotten Ancestors) by Ukrainian writer Mykhailo Kotsiubynsky, the acclaimed debut feature from eccentric Soviet-Armenian filmmaker Sergei Parajanov (released in 1964) finally receives a DVD release.
In a village of Carpathian Hutsuls (a group of Ukranian highlanders), Ivan (I. Dzyura) and Marichka’s (V. Glyanko) families are at war with each other, soon resulting in the death of Ivan’s father at the hands of Marichka’s. However, this does not stop the two from secretly beginning a childhood romance which will shape the rest of their lives and last forever.
In addition to the deaths that loom over them, their romance must face yet another obstacle when adult Ivan (Ivan Mikolajchuk) must leave the village to earn a living as a hired labourer, having pleaded with Marichka (Larisa Kadochnikova) to wait until winter for him, watching the stars each night to remind each of the other. Nevertheless, the fate of the lovers is sealed when one night, while climbing a cliff to watch the stars, Marichka plummets to her death in the river rapids below.
Ivan is overcome with grief, running away from everything to pursue a solitary life, which he leads for many months, until some nearby villagers coax him into getting drunk and beginning a loveless relationship with Palagna (Tatyana Bestayeva). However, he never truly loves Palagna, and the couple are constantly haunted by the spectre of his true love, Marichka…
There are certainly some unusual camera and editing techniques in Shadows Of Forgotten Ancestors, not least for the time in which it was made. The colour red features prominently in the film, not only as the colour font used for the titles, but the entire picture often flashes red whenever there is a tragic occurrence in Ivan’s life, which sadly, for him, is frequent. Other striking techniques used are the frantic camera movements and rapid zooms, which signal death or a sense of foreboding. However, this does not necessarily come across accurately, often making the film look more like a low budget horror flick.
A soundtrack of Russian folk music and hymns scores the film, resulting in a sound which could certainly be considered an acquired taste, but, nevertheless, is entirely relevant, and works perfectly with the backdrop of the film. This landscape figures importantly, as the beautiful Carpathian Mountains serve as a looming entrapment for the characters during the first half of the film, as Marichka and Ivan know that they will never be together in their current environment, while after Marichka’s death, they are a constant reminder to Ivan of the loss that he has suffered. The doom laden quality of the mountains is punctuated by the constantly overcast sky which projects darkness on to the village, and taints the otherwise beautiful landscape. Even during moments when the sun appears, such as times when Ivan and Marichka are happy together, or as children frolicking in the woods, it is blindingly bright, creating a sense of intoxication.
Not only does the music and setting create an effective Carpathian atmosphere, but the costumes are also fantastic. Featuring vibrant colours and unusual patterns, each character genuinely looks as if they belong to this environment. Parajanov has succeeded in his creation of an environment which is incredibly important to the film, as a story about a group of people who have gone widely unrecognised. Surely a large portion of the general public will not be aware of who the Carpathian Hutsuls are, and there are very few stories, either on film or in literature, about them.
The film runs into trouble when some aspects of the acting are taken into consideration. The first character development in the film comes from the young Ivan and Marichka, painfully approached by poor child acting - it seems this cannot be avoided whether in Hollywood or world cinema. The building of their relationship, as the lovers age, is punctuated by, at times, overly melodramatic acting from Kadochnikova and Mikolajchuk - although this does contribute to a Shakespearean quality to the film, with ties to Romeo & Juliet (Marichka and Ivan the ‘star-crossed lovers’) and Macbeth (Palagna’s use of witchcraft). However, Mikolajchuk shines through when his character faces tragedy, delivering an emotive performance as a grief stricken loner.
Shadows Of Forgotten Ancestors features beautiful cinematography and fantastic direction from Parajanov, but falls short in the performance department if you cannot see past the Shakespearean comparisons. HB
Film: The Shinjuku Incident
Release date: 22nd February 2010
Certificate: 18
Running time: 114 mins
Director: Tung-shing Yee
Starring: Jackie Chan, Daniel Wu, Naoto Takenaka, Masaya Kato, Xu Jinglei
Genre: Crime/Drama
Studio: Cine Asia
Format: DVD & Blu-ray
Country: Hong Kong
Jackie Chan takes his biggest step outside his comfort zone in this bleak crime fable with an arresting socio-political subtext. How does the undisputed king of action-comedy fare in this stripped down, character-driven drama?
To escape the poverty of rural China in the early 1990s, tractor mechanic ‘Steelhead’ (Chan) makes for Japan, which he enters illegally by sea with scores of other desperate Chinese.
Narrowly escaping the police, Steelhead arrives in the Shinjuku district of Tokyo, where he is accepted into the Chinese ex-pat community, and forges a friendship with Jie (Wu) - a well-intentioned younger man with a habit of making destructively bad decisions.
Steelhead wants nothing more than to earn a living and be reunited with his fiancée, Xiu Xiu (Jinglei), but the dual discovery that opportunities are scarce and that Xiu Xiu is now the wife of Yakuza boss Eguchi (Kato) nudge the weary and desperate immigrant towards a life of crime.
Before long, Steelhead finds himself mired in a web of violence and betrayal, caught in not only the crossfire of a Yakuza power struggle, but also of his own internal war - how to remain an honourable man in the face of such ruthless and deadly enemies? And can crime be excused if one seeks only to look after one’s community?
About twenty minutes into The Shinjuku Incident, the film sets up a scenario we’ve seen before - dozens of times. Jackie Chan - playing an ‘everyman hero’ - happens to be in the right place at the right time as an innocent is set upon by baddies or thugs. Never one to stand by, Jackie runs to the rescue, using an inanimate object that happens to be to hand (in this case a conveniently placed stick). But where Jackie’s everyman hero should twirl and whirl said stick with ruthless, athletic grace, he simply swings it chaotically, never making contact. In place of the actor’s lifetime of training is the crude, desperate action of an unskilled ordinary man who masks his own fear with frenzied aggression, hoping to scare off his opponent before he has to inflict or receive any physical damage. He even calls out for help. If audiences had not cottoned on before this scene, it now becomes very clear: this is not a ‘typical’ Jackie Chan film.
Jackie Chan’s is one of the most carefully managed and scrupulously maintained cinematic personas of this, or any other, era. We take as given that Jackie’s character - who will often be called ‘Jackie’ or, in his earlier Hong Kong days, ‘Ah Lung’ (playing on his Cantonese stage name ‘Sing Lung’, ‘Lung’ meaning ‘Dragon’) - is an honourable man, who does not back down from a challenge; we know that ‘Jackie’ will use - often stylised, spectacular - violence to right a wrong, but we know that minimal blood will be spilled, and that any gunshots fired will almost certainly miss before the guns are flung aside in favour of fists and feet. In perhaps no career in any country’s cinema has one man shown such a keen awareness of his audience (the paucity of love - or even kissing - scenes in Chan’s filmography was almost necessitated by the extreme reactions of his female fans, with one Japanese woman committing suicide upon learning of his real-life marriage to a Taiwanese actress), and such reluctance to unsettle them (the list of ‘risky’ projects turned down by Chan include the gay love interest of Leslie Cheung in Farwell, My Concubine, and the historically controversial figure of China’s First Emperor in Zhang Yimou’s Hero). Any revision of this persona has instant cinematic impact, from the older brother of a mentally ill man struggling with his responsibilities in 1985’s Heart Of The Dragon, through to the alcoholic detective in 2004’s New Police Story. But even those characters contained the key, comforting ‘Jackie-isms’ - the fighting ability, and the indomitable spirit, dormant but retrievable upon the plot’s demand. The Shinjuku Incident’s Steelhead shares only a desire to be good with the basic Jackie Chan template. In every other respect, this is brand new territory for the leading man.
And he does rather a fine job in it, too. Having made his name in popular Hong Kong cinema - which, by definition, required a very expressive style of acting - Chan perhaps does not have the career’s worth of experience to draw on in order to convey his character’s inner turmoil and existential malaise with particular subtlety. So he does what he has always done - rely on his connection with an audience. Chan’s face - handsome, off-set by a pug nose that was the butt of so many easy script jokes in his early career, and almost as flexible as the rest of him - has always been the most effective weapon in his acting arsenal; but where he once mugged incessantly in aid of conveying physical pain or comedic angst, he now casts off once and for all his typical boyishness, and lets all the weariness of late middle age show. It is almost as though Chan is no longer pretending that nearly forty years of action scenes, blown stunts and broken bones haven’t taken their toll. Director Derek Yee underlines, perhaps for the first time, just how fascinating Chan’s looks have become with age, and the actor seems to relish the more subdued, restrained style of acting. Gone is the showy wailing of New Police Story, and in its place is a quiet (in)dignity which, though perhaps not as subtle as a Tony Leung may have managed, is all the more impressive for being so unexpected.
Of course, there is more going on in The Shinjuku Incident than Jackie Chan stepping outside his comfort zone. Much more, in fact. So what of the rest of the film? Almost frustratingly, the script contains little to match the surprise of its central performance, steaming through gangland movie clichés at a rate of knots. What starts as an intriguingly slow-burn insight into the illegal immigrant communities in Japan soon overburdens itself with the web of deceit and power plays within the Tokyo underworld that is at first only tangentially connected to the emotional story at its heart. The central characters all have compelling relationships with each other (Steelhead is employed by, and eventually grows to like and respect the Yakuza boss now married to the girl he came to find), and arcs ripe with dramatic potential (Jie’s reaction to humiliation and mutilation in a gangland incident is to take up with drug-dealing, nihilistic cyberpunks), but the filmmakers too often pull their punches when it really matters. Despite several scenarios that feel fresh and new, the characters ultimately make the same old choices when it really matters.
Yee’s film simply spreads itself too thinly - its socio-political character study at war with its commercially desirable gangland thriller plot. The script’s wealth of character arcs and subplots - Steelhead’s lost love, his friendship with a weary-yet-idealistic cop (Takenaka), Jie’s struggle to assert himself in a world run by ruthless men - suggests a sprawling epic story crammed into a running time of just under two hours. Indeed, as characters make story-turning decisions that occasionally have insufficient build-up, the film sometimes plays like a three hour epic that’s been hastily edited. Ultimately, the characters are shepherded to a chaotic finale that feels like a quick-fix to a script that got out of control - its conclusion unsettlingly abrupt. It’s a measure of how the film eventually disengages its audience that the fact the plot’s resolution centres on a glaringly anachronistic detail becomes impossible to overlook, regardless of our emotional connection to the characters.
A nice change of pace for its star, and a well-made crime drama in its own right. Even if it does not ascend to the level to which it aspires, The Shinjuku Incident is still a mostly compelling piece of Asian cinema that touches on an issue perhaps unfamiliar to overseas audiences. JN
Film: Sleeping Bride
Release date: 31st May 2010
Certificate: PG
Running time: 100 mins
Director: Hideo Nakata
Starring: Risa Hoto, Yuki Kohara, Takaaki Enomoto, Tomoka Hayashi
Genre: Romance/Comedy
Studio: Palisades Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: Japan
The Glass Brain by prolific manga author Osamu Tezuka (creator of Astro Boy and an obsessive Walt Disney fan) provides the bizarre inspiration for J-Horror mastermind Hideo Nakata’s left of centre romantic tale (originally released as part of the Ring Trilogy).
An emergency rescue team discover a pregnant sole survivor clinging onto life amongst the sizzling wreckage of a horrific plane crash. She manages to live just long enough to give birth to a cataleptic baby daughter, Yumi (Riso Goto).
Now motherless and abandoned by a grieving father, the child is taken into the care of a medical staff that offers little hope of her ever emerging from the deep routed coma.
Seven years later, a young boy, Yuichi (Yuki Kohara), is admitted to the same hospital suffering from chronic asthma. Bored he wonders the corridors looking for and finding a distraction in the shape of the mysterious coma girl. For the remainder of his stay, armed with a vivid imagination and knowledge of the sleeping beauty fairytale, he makes a daily pilgrimage to Yumi’s room to place a single kiss on her lips and utter the words: “I am a prince, please wake up.”
A decade on, and Yuichi, now a well-liked high school pupil, is stunned as he watches a news broadcast regarding the plane crash and subsequent birth of the coma girl. His feelings for Yumi flood back, reigniting a dormant childhood obsession and forcing him, at the expense of other relationships, to return to the girl’s bedside and continue his ritual kiss, all seemingly to no avail…
Director Hideo Nakata, who gate crashed into the public’s conciseness with breakout movie Ringu and subsequent genre defining J-Horror films, tries and fails dramatically to prove to the world that he is so much more than the master of supernatural suspense. It is true to say that he had previously enjoyed a limited success in Japan with non horror films, however, these have always had a prominent dark tone at their heart (twisted kidnap flick Chaos and documentary Sadistic And Masochistic spring to mind). However, for what is basically a reimaging of an old fairytale updated for a female teen audience, he injudiciously abandons his usual well crafted stylistic methods, honed to perfection in his classic Dark Water, for an almost straightforward directing by numbers approach.
Conspicuous by their absence are Nakata’s trademark atmospheric moments of suspense, created through nothing more than interesting camera angles. Worse still, adding insult to injury, the director replaces intriguing imagery with soft-focus insipidness, while allowing emotive sounds to be drowned in an ocean of orchestral drivel. His use of colour is drab, at best, and the music score by long-time collaborator Kenji Kawai is ill judged, at times grating on the nerves, and a constant distraction.
The dialogue, closely adapted from Tezuka’s manga script by Chiaki Konaka, is so bland that it becomes a struggle to empathise with the main characters, although, admittedly, the two leads make the most of their roles, and, unlike the supporting cast, they do emerge with some credence. In particular, Riso Goto shows promise with her beguiling and somewhat quirky depiction of a stranger fascinated by her new milieu as once dormant senses begin to blossom. Another small positive is that the film itself is not totally without charm, especially in the early stages when we watch Yuichi fall for the helpless coma girl, but these scenes are stretched out to the point that it becomes a trial of stamina just to keep eyelids open. Furthermore, a benign sub-plot is unceremoniously wedged into the mix, serving little purpose other than to emphasise the blatantly obvious in a story that would have been better suited as a compact thirty minute episode of something in keeping with The Twilight Zone or Tales Of The Unexpected.
Nakata is obviously out of his comfort zone with this story, as he attempts to cater for a slightly younger audience, but even in the film’s darker moments, when Nakata should be in his element, we are subjected to a plodding substandard made for daytime TV approach. By the time the end credits roll, our tears are not those of sadness or happiness for the characters’ plight, but of relief that we can at last get our life back.
An incredibly boring and poor adaptation of a potentially interesting story by a director forsaking his unique and intelligent style to pander to the misjudged masculine idea of the demands of a female teenage audience. MG
Film: Sons Of Cuba
Release date: 19th March 2010
Certificate: TBC
Running time: 88 mins
Director: Andrew Lang
Starring: Yosvani Bonachea, Cristian Martinez, Santos Urguelles
Genre: Documentary
Studio: Windfall
Format: Cinema
Country: Cuba/UK
Anyone with a keen interest in sport, and particularly the Olympics, will be aware that Cuba have been a dominant force in boxing – not surprising given most boxers emanate from underprivileged backgrounds, and, as this documentary starkly illustrates, conditions in this country are appalling enough to breed “fighters” (according to the film’s coach, “We Cubans are fighting from the moment we are born.”)…
This award-winning film focuses on three promising child boxers - Cristian ‘The Old Man’, Santos ‘The Singer’ and Junior ‘The Dalmation’ – who have been hand-picked to train at the Havana Boxing Academy (essentially, a detention camp) by a single-minded coach, Yosvani Bonachea, desperate to avenge a previous defeat, and so dedicated that he “can’t give his own kids the love they need.”
With unprecedented access, we follow these three talented youngsters over an eight month period, as they aim to reach the National Boxing Championships for the under-12s, where it’s win or nothing, offering an insight into how this country, despite its restrictions, has become a leader in the sport’s amateur field.
Given the country’s mistrust and contempt for outsiders (in one scene, a 10-year-old boxer talks about his fears of an eminent US military attack, and being ready to fight when that happens), it’s a major feat that Lang has been able to capture such personal and intimate moments on film – the subjects open up, and this as honest an account as you could hope for.
Most viewers will be repelled by the treatment of these children (who “enlisted now can’t quit”), a number of whom sleep on bunk beds in a small box room, and are woken daily at 4am to begin a gruelling exercise regime that is only interrupted by school (which seems to focus on brainwashing with political propaganda) – they understandably struggle to stay awake. In some scenes, the coach has them barking and howling like dogs, and in others you see the sacrifices forced upon them to ensure they are kept underweight (i.e. starving them) – what they are fed is basic, unappealing, and served on what resembles a prison food tray (or out of a bucket). Santos, in particular, struggles to keep his weight borderline anorexic (when he wants to leave, his family show zero compassion and ignore him), and is caught out when a pastry shop sends a bill to the academy. Methods to induce sweat and weight loss include covering them with mattresses as they sleep. Even their heads are shaved to ensure there is not even the smallest unnecessary additional weight.
Your views will waver, however, when the children are allowed to leave for a short home stay. Cuba is shown as bleak and crumbling, and the children return home to what are essentially slums, and broken families – Cristian’s ever competitive father, now separated from his mum, is a former Olympic and world boxing gold medallist, but given his clear despondency, and the poverty he now finds himself in, it’s a massive contradiction to the children’s belief they are competing for “a better future.”
But you can understand why these children strive for this opportunity. For now, their surroundings have been improved, and when you see the camaraderie and bonds between them (Cristian is unable to hide his upset at having to fight, and ultimately beat his friend in a forced match-up), and with their coach, who is genuinely close to the boys, showing moments of real care and emotion (tucking them into bed, shedding tears, and comforting a distraught Junior whose parents are separating), despite otherwise being a strict disciplinarian. One child describes the academy as his home, whilst another refers to people there as his family.
Still, whilst we warm to the children, and ultimately root for their success against main rivals the Matanzas (farmer’s sons who “eat stones” and can “punch you to the north pole”), what really stays with you is the empty look in their eyes and continuous emotional and physical distress they are forced to endure (in one scene, a group of children are stood in just their pants to be weighed, resembling a cattle market). There are also comparisons to an underground dog fight, in the manner these children are put to fight each other, providing a slightly perverted spectacle for the older audience.
Even if their lives are being marginally improved by attending this academy, it’s only because of the country’s regime, and its warped sense of pride and self-worth. As much as you can admire a country’s individual, non-capitalist footing, it’s clear this is not a just system, with children manipulated and bullied.
The film opens with Fidel Castro’s (a now fashionable, iconic, and even revered figure by many in the west) words that sport was “on the frontline” and “Fatherland or death,” and he is omnipresent throughout (from posters, wall gravity, to marches and news footage), with children under the belief their efforts were making him proud, with reading matter and schooling focussed on their “duty” - anyone that deferred from his rules (three former Olympic champions defected to the US) are said to have “betrayed” their country.
Under the pretence of examining a comparatively small subject, and with little effort to delve or force, Lang has succeeded in exposing wider socio-political issues. Deeply affecting. DH
