March 18, 2009
If Part One of Che is a tale of unlikely triumph, Part Two of Steven Soderbergh’s impressive epic is the dark side of revolutionary agitation. It is perhaps the more significant film, if only because it shows Guevara’s willingness to sacrifice himself fully to his cause.
In fact, the Bolivian campaign was a step too far for Che Guevara. With indiscipline from within and apathy from without, Che (Benicio Del Toro) fights relentlessly, hopelessly, until his inevitable capture. But though we may know how the story ends, the film is shot as a series of events rather than a sweeping narrative. There’s no prescient sentimentality or dramatisation here. Yes, it seems to meander at points, but Soderbergh’s use of realist verité - though never self conscious - brings us back to the present. The film is based on the diaries of a man who never doubted his actions even if the goals seem distant, and that sense of purpose pervades throughout.
Like Part One, however, the loyalty to Che’s own writings means there is little investment in character. Che himself is an authoritative but likeable figure, but the other characters are somewhat one dimensional. They are honestly portrayed and are certainly not caricatures but we don’t fully understand them as people. The film is clear sighted and unfussy. Music is used sparingly throughout. When Che’s men die, there is no sense that the film stops to mourn their loss.
At the dénouement to the film Che is unkempt and haggard, bound and under guard. But his quiet dignity remains, wonderfully portrayed by Del Toro, and it’s a quality that stays with you. The final scenes are quite stunning; stark and unflinching, and appropriately enough, there is a change of viewpoint as we see the end through Che’s own eyes. Both Parts honour Guevara’s life by refusing to coat it with even a hint of Hollywood glitter. And that is probably only right.
In fact, the Bolivian campaign was a step too far for Che Guevara. With indiscipline from within and apathy from without, Che (Benicio Del Toro) fights relentlessly, hopelessly, until his inevitable capture. But though we may know how the story ends, the film is shot as a series of events rather than a sweeping narrative. There’s no prescient sentimentality or dramatisation here. Yes, it seems to meander at points, but Soderbergh’s use of realist verité - though never self conscious - brings us back to the present. The film is based on the diaries of a man who never doubted his actions even if the goals seem distant, and that sense of purpose pervades throughout.
Like Part One, however, the loyalty to Che’s own writings means there is little investment in character. Che himself is an authoritative but likeable figure, but the other characters are somewhat one dimensional. They are honestly portrayed and are certainly not caricatures but we don’t fully understand them as people. The film is clear sighted and unfussy. Music is used sparingly throughout. When Che’s men die, there is no sense that the film stops to mourn their loss.
At the dénouement to the film Che is unkempt and haggard, bound and under guard. But his quiet dignity remains, wonderfully portrayed by Del Toro, and it’s a quality that stays with you. The final scenes are quite stunning; stark and unflinching, and appropriately enough, there is a change of viewpoint as we see the end through Che’s own eyes. Both Parts honour Guevara’s life by refusing to coat it with even a hint of Hollywood glitter. And that is probably only right.