Andy Garcia’s The Lost City is a highly
passionate film. Garcia, who spent sixteen years seeking
financing for the project before he could put it into
action, is obviously very connected to the material. The
film chronicles the shift in power in Cuba from the
near-tyrannical rule of Fugencio Batista to that of the
equally-oppressive communist Fidel Castro, who still
leads the country today. It does so by following the
lives of the members of the family of night-club-owner
Fico Fellove (Garcia), all of whom act differently on
their political views regarding the leadership of
country, but unite through a common love of the Cuban
culture. A Cuban in exile himself, Garcia is able to
establish a high sense of intimacy in both his acting
and directing; the audience understands the heartbreak
of the downfall of Cuba because of the sympathy they
feel towards Fico.
With all of this being said,
it also deserves mentioning that the movie is as jumbled
as it is affecting. Garcia is never self-indulgent in
his love for the material in the way that Martin
Scorsese is in his films, but his direction suffers
because he seems to have made it as if he was Fico
Fellove. While much of the movie’s power lies in the
Garcia’s representation of its protagonist, it would’ve
been better off had the filmmaker taken a more detached
approach towards his exterior craftsmanship. Each
individual scene in The Lost City works by
itself, but Garcia’s overindulgence in Cuban musical
performances (despite his beautiful choice of
compositions) and insignificant supporting characters
ruins the flow of the picture as a whole. Particularly
out-of-place, although humorous in his own right, is
Bill Murray in a role modeled after the author of the
material, G. Cabrera Infante. Garcia was incessant upon
defending the character at the Q&A after the screening
of the film that I attended—Murray was also present (!),
but didn’t speak to the issue—saying that the Murray’s
dry comic relief in the movie was a necessity to
preserving Infante’s style.
The Lost City also
contains a romantic thread between Fico and widow Aurora
(Ines Sastre), the once-wife of one of Fico’s brother,
who dies early on in the film participating in an
uprising against Batista. This aspect of the story works
and Sastre is perfect in her role; she and Garcia have
an extraordinary onscreen chemistry which only becomes
more significant as the storyline progresses and the
two’s differing perspectives of Cuba are contrasted.
This general approach is abundant in the whole of The
Lost City and is perhaps the most admirable thing
about it: instead of being about Cuban history,
the movie teaches it through the characters’ decisions
and opinions regarding their country. The viewer’s
concern thereby focuses on the humanity of the story.
This humanity propels the very heart of the story and it
allows the film to be effective, despite whatever
inconsistencies it may contain. The Lost City may
not be a great movie, but it is an elemental, engrossing
film that represents a personal triumph (if not an
entirely successful one) for Garcia, as well as prime
example of the power of independent filmmaking.
-Danny, Bucket Reviews (5.27.2006)