THIS FILM WAS AWARDED THE FOLLOWING PRIZES
AT THE 1968 KARLOVY VARY INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL:
FIPRESCI PRIZE - EX AEQUO
INTERNATIONAL FEDERATION OF FILM-CLUBS AWARD
SPECIAL JURY AWARD
The Cuban Institute of Cinematographic Art and Industry
presents
MEMORIES OF UNDERDEVELOPMENT
Based on the novel by Edmundo Desnoes
Director of photography: Ramon F. Suérez
Edited by: Nelson Rodriguez
Music: Leo Brouwer
Conducted by: Manuel Duchesne Cuzén
Special performance by: Pello el Afrokán
Directed by: Tomás Gutiérrez Alea
HAVANA, 1961. MANY PEOPLE FLED THE COUNTRY
EXIT
She'll have to work over there...
At least until she finds some dumb guy who'll marry her.
Frankly, she's still good looking.
She'll remember me while she goes through bad times and then...
I've been really stupid.
Working to support her as if she'd been born
in New York or Paris
and not on this underdeveloped island.
Excuse me.
“All those who loved me
and...
bugged me up until the last minute
have left."
For years I said that if I had time
I would write a book and keep a diary.
Now I'll know if I really have something to say.
Nothing has changed.
Nothing has changed here.
At first sight it looks like a set, a cardboard city.
The Bronze Titan.
Free and independent Cuba. Who'd have imagined this?
No Imperial Eagle.
And the dove Picasso was supposed to send?
It's real easy to be a communist and a millionaire in Paris.
"This mankind has said enough and has started to walk."
Like my parents.
Like Laura. They won't stop till they get to Miami.
But everything seems so different today.
Have I changed or has the city?
"It's time to leave.
Oh, abandoned like piers at dawn.
All in you was a shipwreck."
- What are you doing? - Can't you see?
I meant what are you reading?
A frivolous, decadent thing: “The Best of Everything“
or “The Best in the World“, whatever.
Oh, that film.
Yeah, that one.
- Leave me alone. - Me?
I can't read with you looking at me
as if I were a weirdo.
Why don't we chat?
What's come over you?
What's bugging you?
These days you only speak of bugs.
Why not?
We are surrounded by bugs, rabble, filthy people...
This country stymies you.
And you? What do you think?
What? You've never been interested in what I think.
What's come over you?
You're practicing your English a lot lately.
You're planning to leave.
What? Let go of me.
I like it when you get vulgar.
It actually turns me on
to see you switch between flip-flops and fancy things,
elegance and vulgarity.
I've been looking at you and I find you funny.
You're acting strangely.
You've become rather disgusting lately.
I haven't got any Yardley brilliantine,
or Colgate toothpaste,
or imperialist aftershave.
- You know that helps a lot. - Yes, it must be that.
Yet you become more attractive every day.
- Really? - Yes.
You're more artificial.
I don't fancy natural beauty. I like women like you,
who are all about good clothes, good food,
make-up, massages...
You're no longer common Cuban riffraff,
you've turned into a dazzling beauty.
Are you serious or are you mocking me?
Both.
Go mock your mommy, honey!
Go to hell!
I like it! I really do!
Are you insane?
Let go of me! I can't stand you.
I can't stand living here, with the heat, the sweat...
You sweat too much, you're disgusting. Let go of me!
You know I'm recording all this?
- What? - Everything.
Every single word.
It will be very fun to listen to.
You're a monster, you're sick!
You're going to break it!
Here women look at your eyes,
as if your gaze could touch them.
This happens nowhere else in the world.
Perhaps Italian women look a little more, but not like this.
Since El Encanto burned down, Havana's a provincial town.
They used to call it the Caribbean Paris.
OUR WINE IS BITTER, BUT IT'S OURS.
At least the tourists and whores did.
Now it's more like
the Caribbean Tegucigalpa.
Not just because El Encanto's gone and there's nothing good to buy,
it's the people too.
What's the sense of life for them?
And for me?
And what does life mean for me?
But I'm not like them.
They're starting the first Socialist revolution in America.
So what?
They'll fall into barbarism and starve.
Like the Haitians. They beat Napoleon, so what?
They used to have the best sugar industry in the world.
Look at them now: barefoot and zombie-like.
Times change.
But it's not our problem.
It's between the Russians and Americans.
It's none of our business.
Something is clear: there'll be a huge hassle in the future.
And you'll know who'll get hit first: us.
Know why?
Because we're a tiny, little island.
Well, you'll be hit, because I won't be here, got that?
We've been together all the time for five years.
Under Batista, things reached a point where they had to change.
Not me.
I kept out of politics, I have a clear conscience.
I've done nothing but work like a mule all my life.
See Anita?
So stunning and her belly is full of black beans.
I saw her eating.
But they have all the resources, Sergio...
and the know-how to develop the country's economy.
Fill it up.
- The know-how? - Yes, the know-how.
Americans know how to do things,
they know how to make things work.
Three.
- Check the oil. - I have no oil.
But I'll check it anyway.
No... what for?
I wouldn't give a shit but I have to return it in the same condition it was.
Why?
For inventory.
If I don't, they won't let me leave.
I can't get you a sealed unit, you'll have to find it yourself.
Things have changed now...
Yes, I know.
The paint job won't be the same.
If we can't find wood alcohol we'll have to use synthetic paint,
it's different.
We'll have to paint that part at least,
so it looks good.
And this dent?
And down there too.
Some say the only thing Cubans can't stand is going hungry.
Yet there's been much hunger here since the Spaniards came.
In Latin America, four children die per minute
because of diseases caused by malnutrition.
In ten years
that's 20 million children.
The same number of deaths in the Second World War.
A real wreck!
I feel better this way, I don't have to fix it.
Well, if you like to walk.
No, but I'm more relaxed.
I don't want problems.
They say that the latest American cars are fabulous.
I saw it in a magazine Julio Gómez lent me.
Sealed engine, two spark plugs,
a two-year guarantee.
If it breaks, they give you a new one.
Can you believe it?
With the mechanics we have, that would be the solution.
People seem more stupid every day.
Pablo was right: the French stink.
They're filthy pigs, Laura.
I don't care if they take it all.
It won't last for long anyway.
But now it will be different, brother!
I won't stay home twiddling my thumbs as I did under Batista.
I never thought these people would overthrow him.
But now I know that if I don't do something,
I won't be able to function when this falls down.
- That's what they say. - Who?
The Bay of Pigs prisoners.
Listen.
THE TRUTH OF THE GROUP IS IN THE MURDERER
We found that
the military organization of the invaders
has a hierarchy of social functions that outlines
the division of social and moral labor of the bourgeoisie.
A priest.
A free trade businessman.
An amateur official.
A torturer.
A philosopher.
A politician.
And many children of well-to-do families.
Each of them carried out their specific actions,
but it was all of them, the group,
that gave sense to their individual actions.
As an individual, Calviño is a criminal for whom
the bourgeoisie feel horror.
The dress I wore...
there's still blood on it.
He kicked my abdomen
and I bled.
That's not all!
I fought them
and they broke two of my vertebrae. Remember?
You hit him the first time with a stick.
He fell to his knees
and you kicked him in the liver.
Then he collapsed.
Remember?
After murdering him, you defiled him too.
You're a despicable murderer.
- Right before you? - Before me.
You shot him to death and laughed while he died.
In Avellaneda No. 106 on October 6th, at 7 p.m.
Say it's not true!
Tell me it's not true.
Tell me it's not true that after you killed Morúa,
during the nine days I was kept prisoner,
you came and told me how you had done it.
- Tell me, Calviño... - I cannot answer.
In every capitalist society, the bourgeoisie has men like this
at its disposal. They are entrusted with these unique tasks.
But in the moral division of labor,
recruited murderers allow for
the existence of those who are not in direct contact with death
and who, as individuals, can maintain
a clean conscience.
I speak for myself and for those who share my ideas.
We may be the minority.
I don't speak for Ventura, or Ventura's drivers,
or for a lot of vile people you have named.
I didn't know Calviño at the time.
I was only interested in leading my own life.
They're like disjointed elements of an overarching principle
that nobody will acknowledge.
Ultimately, I cannot actually answer for the others,
only they can.
You seem to be trying to incriminate me,
as if I were to blame for the invasion and all the rest.
I insist
that my mission is purely spiritual.
I have not touched a weapon,
before or after.
Being involved in a plot doesn't mean you're a plotter.
At the beginning I said
that I had been a totally apolitical person all my life.
I never had anything to do with a political party.
Secondly, individual responsibility
is saved through personal behavior.
They retreat into themselves
to escape the misery of others, to avoid contamination,
or tuck themselves away in the group to hide their responsibility,
hence contaminating the others.
Well, now there is a group. It's not just me.
This responsibility, rejected by the group as a whole,
is brought up and claimed by one of its members.
You're speaking of a charge that is not mine,
it's the group's.
The killer-torturer, an extreme case in this labor division,
falls back on the group to claim his moral guiltlessness.
Listen, I personally committed no crime.
The meeting is over.
In no case was there a declaration of responsibility
of the actual individual-group dialectic relationship.
The others who partook in Calviño's invasion
don't identify with the system that implicates them or with its acts.
In the accounts of Freyre, the landowner,
in the last rites by Lugo, the priest,
in the refined rationale of Andreu, the philosopher,
in the layoffs and the book by Rivero,
in Varona's "representative democracy",
who could've foreseen
the death, that through them, spread through Cuba?
Death by hunger, disease,
torture, frustration.
She comes to clean the apartment three times a week.
She's been coming for a year and I'd never noticed her.
If she did herself up, she'd be very attractive.
She's as slim as a Vogue model.
I like her.
She's from Matanzas and is a Protestant.
A Baptist, I think.
Were you baptized in a river?
Sure.
How is that done?
Well...
You can't say?
Well... people gathered on the river bank.
The pastor and I entered the water.
Then he explained to me what a baptism was.
For us, baptism is the death of sin,
the resurrection to a new life
full of faith, hope, and dignity.
He took me to the deepest part of the river
and put me in the water.
I was so afraid!
But everything happened so quickly I hardly noticed.
I was so nervous and got so worked up, but it was nothing.
Most people are exhibitionists.
They look like harmless animals, smooth-faced,
precariously balanced on two legs.
Some say that man's intelligence and physical
imperfection are due to his being a premature monkey fetus.
There is a delightful period, between 30 and 35 years old,
when Cuban women suddenly go from maturity
to rottenness.
They are fruit that rots with an astonishing speed.
The revolution put an end to Yankee domination,
the U.S. uses Guantanamo naval base
to spy on Cuba.
ICAIC cameramen
film some scenes of provocations
by the military troops
and counter-revolutionaries in the base.
You have beautiful knees!
Want to eat with me?
Are you crazy?
No, I just don't like eating alone.
What are you doing here?
Waiting for someone?
Your boyfriend?
Are you crazy?
At your age it is dangerous to be alone here.
You are crazy!
No, really... it is...
Come with me! I don't digest properly when I eat alone.
I'm waiting for a man from ICAIC who offered me a job.
ICAIC?
A screen test for a movie.
I've got an important friend there, he's a director.
- From ICAIC? - Yes.
I'll introduce you tomorrow if you want.
- What time is it? - About 6:30 p.m.
It's late. He won't show up.
Coming?
So...
First a dry Martini.
Why not have a drink?
I can't.
I'm getting injections for my nerves.
Look.
Why an actress?
I'm tired of always being myself.
I can be other people and not be considered crazy.
Besides, I'm interested in developing my personality.
But characters in movies are like broken records.
All an actress does is repeat a thousand times, by rote,
the same gestures and the same words...
Where did they get all that from?
They found those tins with cuts by the commission.
What commission?
The one that checked the films before the Revolution.
Those were cuts made to films that were to be shown.
They were considered immoral.
- Moral, proper behavior... - Yes, I remember that.
- I have a meeting. - Bye. See you.
It seems these guys also had moral concerns.
At least, they kept up appearances.
- What will you do with that? - I want it for a film.
- For a film? - Yes.
A kind of collage, a mix of everything.
But it must have a meaning.
It will, you'll see.
Will they approve it?
Yes.
Come.
Any experience?
Have you been in theatre, on TV?
No, I haven't been lucky.
You haven't studied either?
No, I was going to once, but I never did go.
Write that down on the form.
Won't I have a screen test?
I can sing, too.
If you say so...
You don't?
- No. - You sure?
What a beautiful house.
Don't you like it?
I don't know.
There won't be anything between us.
Look, that's where I live.
What's the matter?
- I don't... - Don't what?
- What about your wife? - I told you, I'm divorced, she left.
- Well, anyhow... - Anyhow what?
- What about the neighbors? - Oh... you don't trust me.
It's not that.
Then what?
Go in first, then I'll come.
It's on the upper floor. Apartment K-L.
Make yourself at home.
I'll make some coffee.
My parents.
And that's Laura.
They left the same day.
What about you?
Me what?
Aren't you leaving?
No.
I'm fine here.
Are you a revolutionary?
What do you think?
I think you're not for or against the revolution.
No?
Well, what am I?
Nothing. You're nothing.
Will they send you things?
No. What for?
Nice shoes... anything. Even a car if you wanted.
Laura was more or less your same size.
I can show you some of her dresses.
You can have them if you want.
But...
Just check them out.
Perfect!
Take a look.
Fasten this for me.
Come on. Stop crying.
You've ruined me.
Me?
We've done nothing bad.
What will I tell my mother?
Well... nothing.
If you wait a bit, I'll see you home.
No thanks, I'd rather be alone.
Call me.
Radio stations attacked: two police agents were killed,
and two in critical condition at a hospital in Caracas, Venezuela,
after an armed attack against the terrorist regime of Rómulo Betancourt
on Wednesday night.
Three radio stations were attacked...
You're no longer common Cuban riffraff,
you've turned into a dazzling beauty.
I can't stand you. Are you serious or are you mocking me?
Both.
Go mock your mommy, honey!
Go to hell!
I like it. I really do!
Are you insane?
Let go of me. I can't stand you.
I can't stand living here, with the heat, the sweat...
You sweat too much, you're disgusting. Let go of me!
You know I'm recording all this?
- What? - Everything.
Every single word.
It will be very fun to listen to.
You're a monster! You're sick!
You're going to break it!
Let go of it! Let go!
This is over. I don't want to see you again, ever!
I'm leaving. I'm leaving alone.
Don't come. I can't stand this one more day.
Leaving me alone?
I don't care! Find a woman who'll put up with you.
You said...
I won't be a guinea pig
for your whims and games!
I'll lead my own life. I'm growing old, you hear, old!
I'm going by myself! I don't want to be with you.
What a surprise!
Before your lips told me you loved me
I already knew it
You okay?
- Who? Me? - You were feeling badly.
Before, not now. I came to see how you were.
Want me to tidy up and make lunch?
What's the matter?
Nothing.
Listen...
Come on, say we won't go on That this is the end
That it can be no more
That you don't love me now
Like romance music?
All that drama last night?
- Don't laugh. - I'm not, but...
You are. And you've got no romance!
You can't criticize how I live, all I have...
One thing that most shocks me about people
is their inability to keep up a feeling
without straying.
Elena proved to be utterly inconsistent.
"Mere alteration", as Ortega said.
She doesn't establish links between things,
a sign of underdevelopment:
an inability to establish links,
to gather experience and grow.
It is difficult to find a woman
with feelings and culture.
This place is too dull.
Cubans spend all their talent in adapting to the times.
People are not consistent.
And they always need someone to think for them.
- Hope to see you there, Sergio. - Me? No.
I don't think so.
I already know the US.
But what'll happen here is a mystery to me.
It's no mystery, Sergio. We all know what will happen.
Well, frankly I don't.
Now it will not be like the Bay of Pigs.
Perhaps, but it may be interesting.
Perhaps, but I'll be on the other side.
It will be safer.
You'll meet old friends over there.
- I know you, Sergio. - You do?
Yes, but there were very decent people among them.
At least, that's what they said.
I don't know what they said, but I have a clean conscience.
You do.
Was I like him before?
Perhaps.
The Revolution may destroy me,
but it's my revenge against stupid Cuban bourgeoisie
and assholes like Pablo.
I can see Pablo is not Pablo, but my own life.
Everything I do not want to be.
It's nice to see them leave,
as if ridding myself of them.
I still have my lucidity. An unpleasant lucidity, a vacuum.
I know what is the matter with me, but I cannot avert it.
Him, Laura, all of them...
Francisco de la Cuesta used to live here.
We were 8 or 10 years old.
I wonder where he is now.
Will he remember our games?
I try but cannot.
When we were in school, the priests were always right.
They held power then.
I got punished for no reason.
Then I understood the link
between Justice and Power.
Armando's father was a freethinker.
He gave him a peso every week for the whore house.
He took me there my first time.
It was with a fat woman who cost 50 cents.
He told her to be good to me.
I couldn't do anything with her.
I had to find another one.
Then I started going there every week.
Suddenly I discovered Elena didn't share any of my ideas.
I expected more from her.
I thought she was more complex and interesting.
I try to live like a European.
She makes me feel underdevelopment with every step.
I tried to change Elena,
as well as Laura.
But she doesn't understand.
The world in her head is very different from mine.
She doesn't see me.
ADVENTURE IN THE TROPICS
This gazelle was killed by Hemingway on his last trip to Africa.
In 1953.
He went with Mary, his fourth wife.
Gazelles are considered the fastest animals in Africa.
Apart from its speed, it constantly jumps.
He killed so as not to kill himself.
But he couldn't resist the temptation in the end.
Hemingway travelled to Spain several times.
As a war correspondent.
Later he joined the International Brigades.
That "Mr. Way" lived here?
There's not much:
books and dead animals.
Just like the houses of Americans in Central Preston.
The same furniture,
the same American smell.
What's the American smell?
Dunno, but you can smell it.
Which do you like best, the Russian or American smell?
Hey, back off.
I know nothing about politics.
The tropics:
that is what backward countries are for.
Kill wild animals, fish,
get a tan.
There she is: the "Beautiful Cuban Señorita".
"I'll never be afraid again",
said Macomber to Wilson.
"Something happened when I saw the buffalo and ran after it.
Like a dam overflowing.
Pure, grandiose excitement."
As if running after a buffalo were enough for fear...
Anyway, there are no buffaloes in Cuba.
I'm dumb.
He overcame the fear of death, but not the fear of life,
of time, of a world that now was too big for him.
Are you here? Why did you go?
You were quite amused.
- Damned jealousy. - Please...
What's eating you?
Nothing.
- You don't care. - About what?
About me... you don't care.
- It's you who doesn't care. - About what?
Nothing, you don't care about anything.
This was Hemingway's room.
He always worked here, on this old typewriter,
standing and barefoot.
He never wrote sitting or with his shoes on.
He woke up early
and worked until 11:00 or 11:30.
Few people entered this room.
I was one of the few. I moved silently,
from one place to another.
During the rest of the day, Hemingway used to...
His name is Rene Villareal.
Hemingway found him playing
in the streets of San Francisco de Paula.
I read that somewhere.
He adapted to his needs.
The faithful servant.
The colonizer and Gunga Din.
Hemingway must have been intolerable.
Here he had his refuge, his tower,
his tropical island.
Boots to hunt in Africa, American furniture,
Spanish pictures, magazines and books in English,
a bullfight poster.
He was never really interested in Cuba.
He took refuge here, he entertained his friends,
wrote in English and fished in the Gulf Stream.
Around 1947, journalists and people wanting to interview him
came here
and did not let him write in peace.
Mary thought this office would offer some privacy
and tried to make it as comfortable as possible.
It had 10 double windows
for fresh air and a nice view.
Simple, comfortable furniture.
Sergio!
Did you see the gentleman who came with me?
Sergio!
Wait a moment!
ROUND TABLE: LITERATURE AND UNDERDEVELOPMENT
In an underdeveloped country,
culture cannot be but the costly,
at times painful operation through which a people
become aware of their capacity to transform social life,
to write their own history.
They should harness their best traditions
making them fruitful and enriching them
with the conditions of the fight for national liberation.
"We were outside,
just steps above the black cooks and servants in school.
I found out I was a 'spick',
a derogatory term used for Latin Americans,
the darkies of the continent, the almost black.
Although I may look like a white Anglo-Saxon protestant,
I'm actually a black Southerner.
Latin Americans are all discriminated against, oppressed,
rejected, ignored,
outsiders within that new scam
pretending to be universal:
the American way of life, the big American white dream."
And now for the devil's advocate,
doubting about doubts,
and asking:
Gentlemen,
can't you see that the words you are using:
"underdevelopment", "underdevelopment"...
are sick
or at least sickly?
Can't you see
that perhaps these words are traps
of language, accomplices of a worn-out culture,
a ruse, a linguistic alibi,
a linguistic-ideological tangle,
that may lead you to the mental peace of formulae?
Useless to flee
from the linguistic continent of underdevelopment
while forgetting that the main contradiction of our times
is not that between U.S. imperialism
and three underdeveloped continents,
but between the forceful development
of productive forces worldwide,
and the forms and productive relations of capitalism, that is,
between a Socialist Revolution
and the capitalist system in its final imperialist stage.
You're referring to the central contradiction
between the proletariat and capitalism.
But I believe this is thoroughly abstract.
Central contradictions are verified in real life.
When a central contradiction becomes embodied
it turns into a war.
For me, the central contradiction
now, is not
between European proletariat and European capitalists,
but rather it's to be found in areas where war materializes,
and proves it is a central contradiction.
Vietnam, for example.
So the issue is a different one.
We're talking...
The discussion here is based
on whether one or the other is the central contradiction.
- No, no... - I mean...
From the point of view of Marxist scholars, I agree,
but I see something different in its specific embodiment.
What are you doing up there with that cigar?
The lack of competition seems to make you feel important.
You would be nothing abroad.
But here you have a place.
You've really come up in the world, Edmundo Desnoes!
Let's see...
Your name, please?
Jack Gelber.
Yes.
Jack Gelber asked: if the Cuban revolution
is so original,
why does it resort to conventional methods like round tables
instead of devising dynamic ways of creating
a relationship between the panel and the audience?
I don't get it. The American was right.
Words swallow words
and leave you in the clouds, a thousand miles away.
How is underdevelopment left behind?
It is very difficult.
It leaves its mark on everything.
What are you doing here?
What's the meaning of this?
You have nothing to do with these people.
You're alone.
There's no continuity in underdevelopment.
Everything is forgotten.
People are not consistent.
You remember many things. You remember too much.
Where are your people, your job, your wife?
You're nothing.
You're dead.
Your final destruction starts now, Sergio.
It's the same thing every time mother writes.
She knows I don't chew gum and I have an electric razor.
I've only asked for books and magazines, but no.
I can't read her handwriting.
They're crazy.
We don't understand each other.
Hanna is the best thing that has ever happened to me.
They fled from Hitler and ended up in Cuba.
She was more mature
than the underdeveloped girls over here.
How long we were together?
I can't remember.
But it was the best thing that ever happened to me.
How did I let her go? Why didn't I run after her?
We were going to marry when her parents took her abroad.
We did not believe in papers, but it would've been easier.
We had plans.
I was to go to New York with her and work.
I still wanted to be a writer and she believed in me.
She's the only one who ever did.
She'd help.
Then my father gave me the furniture store.
I buried myself there.
I worked like mad for two years.
"Hanna, my love,
I can't leave this right now. Please understand.
I don't want to arrive empty handed."
Hanna, darling...
One day it was too late.
I looked for you.
I'll always look for you.
Where are you now?
What do you think about me?
Wait! Stop right here.
Sergio!
Main occupant: first surname.
Carmona.
- Second surname? - Bendoiro.
- Name? - Sergio.
- Occupation? - None.
- Don't you work? - No.
What do you live on?
My rent.
- Former owner? - Yes.
- Age. - 38.
Net income?
600 pesos.
Other family income?
No, I live by myself.
- Did you pay the Reforma Urbana? - No.
- The last month you paid? - I've never paid anything.
Are you:
Owner, buyer, illegal beneficial owner?
No. Owner.
- Any distraints? - No.
How many square meters is this place?
- Who knows. - More or less.
Well...
- It's rather large. - Yes.
Let's say 100 - 200 square meters?
Maybe more. Want to measure it?
No, we'll take your word for it.
Let's say 300.
If it's not, we'll change it later.
Building materials: bricks.
I think so.
The property is an apartment.
How many bedrooms?
A bedroom and a studio.
- And maid's rooms? - Oh, yes. Two.
How many sanitary fixtures?
Five.
- How many bathrooms? - Three.
There are two lifts.
Condition:
good.
Sign here.
What's all this for?
Just a sort of check.
- But this... - Don't you worry.
If there is any problem, we'll tell you.
Hey, wait a moment!
- You can't take that turn! - I'm going there.
- No, you can't turn. - Don't worry. I'll get out here.
And in the midst of all this, I still live off my rent.
I'll still have it for 13 years.
No, 12... 11.
It's been two years since they took my apartment building.
Everything comes too early or too late for me.
Perhaps there was a time when I could've understood all this.
Now I can't.
I'm 38 and already old.
I don't feel wiser or more mature.
More stupid. More rotten than mature.
Like a rotten mamey. Like bagasse.
Perhaps it's because this is the Tropics.
Everything ripens and rots very quickly here.
Nothing lasts.
I'm already an old man.
In whore houses since I was 13.
At 15, I thought myself a genius.
At 25, the owner of a posh furniture store.
Then Laura...
My life is like a monstrous and flabby plant
with huge leaves and no fruit.
I seem kind of dignified.
Are you Sergio?
- Yes. - I'm Elena's brother.
Is something wrong, is she sick?
No, she's a very healthy girl, she's never sick.
It's something else. She says you took advantage of her.
What?
No, look...
You ruined her,
now fix it.
- I wonder what story... - It's no story...
Paying her off with a few dresses!
- Sir, please... - You promised to marry her.
- No way! - You used her.
- This isn't true. - I don't know how it was.
I should've known that she wouldn't stop at anything.
I didn't want the police to be involved.
I was ready to marry her if she asked me.
I was afraid.
Say what you said to mother. Come on, say it.
- You deceived me, sir. - Sir?
Well, you did.
Why?
You said you'd give me some of your wife's dresses...
...and then ruined me.
All right.
If that's your story...
But you know it's not true.
And you were not a virgin.
- Show some respect! - Hey, listen...
My sister is no whore!
How could I get mixed up in this?
I gave up.
I was going to be dragged along till the end.
I was afraid.
Girls should marry as virgins.
That's their greatest treasure!
Women are liberated now.
Don't speak as if you were revolutionary!
- If you don't marry, I kill you! - Shit! Stop it, man!
What's all this?
If I marry her, it'll be because I want to, not because I'm forced to.
- Nobody messes with her! - Stop it!
You didn't want to see me. You wanted to get rid of me?
No, Elena. I'm going to marry you, am I not?
But first we have to think things over.
What things?
We need the papers, don't we?
The divorce papers...
- You are divorced? - Yes, madam.
- Then marry at once! - Stop it!
We'll handle the papers. Why'd you bring him?
When she came home...
- You shouldn't have. - She told me.
Her panties were stained with blood!
That's not true!
Stop it, man! Why the hell did you come here?
Shut up!
Mum, shut up!
Calm down, my dear.
I was sure she was not a virgin.
They're a sorry lot.
What were they after?
Any statement?
All this is false. I have had intercourse with her,
but she agreed to it.
There was no deceit, much less rape. It's a lie.
Sergio, sign here.
The defendant, Sergio Carmona, with the intent of having
sexual intercourse with Elena Dorado, a 16-year-old minor,
deceived her into going to his apartment,
in Linea and Paseo,
where he deprived her of her virginity,
although he knew that she was mentally disturbed,
and thus unable to oppose resistance.
- Do you want to testify? - Yes.
Answer the attorney's questions.
- Do you know Elena Josefa Dorado? - Yes.
Look at the court.
- Yes. - "Yes, sir".
Sorry. Yes, sir.
Where did you meet her?
On 23rd Street, in Vedado.
Did you take her to your apartment and have sexual intercourse with her?
Yes.
Tell me,
before the night of the incident,
did the alleged victim tell you she had engaged in
sexual intercourse with another man?
No.
I was the only consistent one.
And that was the final blow.
They treated me as if I had tricked a member of "the people".
He gave me some dresses of his wife who went up North.
Now everything is "the people".
Once I would've been the respectable person and they the offenders.
I was lost.
Swine, bastard, you took advantage of my daughter!
Pervert!
Did you threaten to kill Sergio?
If he didn't marry her, yes.
- You threatened him? - Yes.
What did he say?
That he would take care of the papers, but he didn't.
When did the doctor see Elena?
Well, mother says... I don't really know...
Mother says she took her shortly before...
this problem.
- What did the doctor say? - I don't know.
And the tests?
Then the sentence came.
First statement of facts: Defendant, Sergio Carmona Bendoiro,
whose identity has been verified,
invited Elena Dorado, 17 years old,
to take a walk on the night of January 25, 1962.
They went to the house of the defendant,
located on Linea and Paseo, where they engaged in sexual intercourse.
There's no proof
that Elena Dorado shows symptoms of mental disturbance,
or was deprived of her mental faculties
when the aforementioned acts took place.
Second statement of facts: the Prosecutor maintained
his provisional conclusions of pages 6 and 7 of the records.
Third statement of facts: the defendant's attorney
maintained his provisional conclusions
denying each and every conclusion by the Public Prosecutor,
and demanded the acquittal of the defendant.
Conclusion:
there is no evidence as to the crime of rape
the Public Prosecutor attributes to the defendant.
According to the laws
and the Social Defense Code,
articles 142, 240, 741, and 742 of the Criminal Procedure Code,
we conclude that
we must acquit and we acquit defendant Sergio Carmona
of the crime of rape the Public Prosecutor attributes to him.
It was a happy ending.
For once justice was served.
But was it?
I'm not all that good.
I've seen too much to be innocent.
Their mind is too tangled to make them guilty.
I never saw them again. Hope she's not institutionalized.
MORE PLANES AND BATTLESHIPS TO FLORIDA
UNEXPECTED RETURN OF KENNEDY TO WASHINGTON
WAR HYSTERIA IN U.S. CAPITAL
A DECISION AGAINST CUBA SEEMS IMMINENT
YOUNG MOTHER GIVES BIRTH TO TRIPLETS
DOG WITH TWO HEARTS
TRADE UNIONS TO WIN BID
MATERIALS FOR YOUR WORK CENTER
CUT AND PASTE
HOW IS TETANUS TRANSMITTED?
WHEN A WOUND IS INFECTED WITH THE TETANUS BACILLUS.
MOST CASES ARE LETHAL.
VACCINES ARE THE ONLY FORM OF PROTECTION.
MAO ZEDONG'S WORDS:
"THE ATTEMPT AT SOLVING IDEOLOGICAL PROBLEMS
THROUGH ADMINISTRATIVE ORDERS
AND WITH COERCIVE METHODS IS HARMFUL."
"WHY DON'T THEY FIX MY BUILDING'S BALCONY?
I'VE TOLD THE URBAN REFORM OFFICE SEVEN TIMES
THAT A PIECE FELL AND IT'S CRUMBLING.
I DON'T HAVE THE MEANS OR TOOLS TO FIX THIS,
SO I'D LIKE TO KNOW WHAT I CAN DO."
TO WORK WITH JOY AND...
She brought me a stack of photographs
from when she was baptized.
It wasn't like I thought it would be. It's nothing.
The clothes didn't cling to her body. There were lots of people.
I hadn't thought about them.
There are witnesses everywhere.
OCTOBER 22, 1962
KENNEDY SPEAKS
Additional sites, not yet completed,
appear to be designed
for intermediate range ballistic missiles,
capable of striking most of the major cities in the Western Hemisphere,
ranging as far north as Hudson Bay, Canada,
and as far south as Lima, Peru.
In addition, jet bombers
capable of carrying nuclear weapons
are now being uncrated and assembled in Cuba
while the necessary air bases are being prepared.
To halt this offensive buildup, a strict quarantine
on all military equipment under shipment to Cuba is being initiated.
Should these offensive military preparations continue,
thus increasing the threat to the Hemisphere,
further action will be justified.
I have directed the Armed Forces to prepare for any eventualities.
Nothing makes sense.
People move and talk as if war were a game.
What if it began right now?
Protesting is useless.
I'll die just like the others.
This island is a trap.
We're too small, too poor.
It's a very expensive dignity.
We decidedly reject any attempt at supervision,
any attempt at inspection of our country.
Our country will not be subjected to inspection.
We are the ones who run this country,
and we know how we can defend our integrity, our sovereignty.
They threaten us with being the target of nuclear attacks.
They don't frighten us.
We must know how to live in the era we find ourselves in
with the dignity with which we should live.
All of us, men, women,
young and old,
we are all united in this time of danger,
and ours, the fate of all the revolutionaries and the patriots,
will be the same fate,
and the victory will belong to us all.
Homeland or death, we shall overcome!
Subtitles: L'Immagine Ritrovata, Bologna