Aesthetic underdevelopment

A few days ago, a group of friends got into an email discussion about "El Cantante." One person in the group, which has many people in the press, sent around the Variety review and asked if any of us had seen the movie and what we'd thought.

The review was a bit on the harsh side, but fairly accurate in its criticisms of the structure. It said that the narrative frame -- having Puchi tell the story from a 2002 interview -- is "phony and arch."

Worse,

"El Cantante" barely addresses Hector and Willie's artistry, and never explores (as in, say, Clint Eastwood's Charlie Parker bio, "Bird") how performing artists moving into new territory develop and mature. Pic's perhaps unintended suggestion is that Hector arrived fully formed (hardly the case).

While the review praises the performance segments, the best stuff in the movie, it faults Ichaso's direction, calling it more "suited to TV."

There's less dramatic rise and fall in "El Cantante" than a dull, downward slide that only an artist with the power of a Scorsese could have turned into something fascinating to watch.

Speaking of Scorcese, whose sensibility would be a nice fit for the tension between creativity and violence in the New York that birthed salsa, I just couldn't stomach Mirta Ojito's comparison of Leon Ichaso to Saint Marty (reg. req.). Yes, the guy's story is interesting. Yes, it's hard to be a Latino director in the U.S. Yes, I love Crossover Dreams (though a friend suggested that it doesn't hold up as well as I remember). But, like Piñero, El Cantante falls for narrative cliché, as you heard me say before.

The movie defenders in my email group praised J.Lo's performance, and the fact that the story was on the screen at all. And that's what upset me the most. Settling.

In an interview I did with Junot Diaz last week (when the new book comes out, BUY IT!!! It is complicated and weird and oh so amazing), we talked about what a risk it was for him to mix Dominican history with science fiction and comics (the intersection of readers who can follow both sets of references is about five people, including me).

His response, which I won't quote to not pre-empt my upcoming story (and so I don't have to re-read my notes), had to do with how we cannot limit the resources we draw from because we've fallen for the notion that our stories can only be told under a certain structure (in novels, the multi-generational family drama is the default). Why NOT describe the terrors of Caribbean history as the most out-there science fiction story ever written? Why NOT use the likes of Sauron and Darkseid to describe Trujillo? Diaz mentioned the knotty narrative of Martinican writer Patrick Chamoiseau as a model.

Not that everything has to be complicated or flashy to accurately tell our stories. Not that we must shun "accessibility." But we'll never get to claim the head of the table if we don't dare. Salsa was daring. Latin jazz is daring. Hip hop was daring. The Young Lords were daring. The Sanctuary movement was daring. Last year's immigration marches were daring. Time to bring a little revolution to our art.

[images from video set to "Mi Gente" soundtrack single from onlinejlofancom via YouTube; image of Junot Diaz via MIT]

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[Daniel H.]

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