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Sunday, Jul 12, 2009
In a documentary to appear on HBO, Oliver Stone profiles his new friend Fidel Castro -- and proceeds to whitewash the Cuban despot's brutal reign.
Feb 8, 2003 | On the red carpet at the Jan. 18 premiere of his Fidel Castro documentary "Comandante," Oliver Stone struts before the entertainment TV cameras at the Sundance Film Festival. He has the luxury of knowing that probably nothing he says will ever be broadcast. Outshone by the likes of J.Lo and Britney at the festival, his documentary, which doesn't air on HBO until May, won't garner much press here.
So he seems particularly relaxed, and the TV reporters, more used to probing the complex mind of Ashton Kutcher, lob Stone softball questions about what will no doubt prove to be a controversial film, seemingly unbeknownst to most of them.
What did you think of Fidel? he's asked.
"I thought he was warm and bright," Stone says. "He's a very driven man, a very moral man. He's very concerned about his country. He's selfless in that way."
The perma-tanned reporter smiles approvingly. Stone goes on; his movie will allow viewers to "see behind the mirror, behind the curtain. You see the man with the beard and the cigar, and he's not quite what you think he is." The film "doesn't make judgments," he allows, and Castro is "obviously on his best behavior. But he lets you see."
For Stone, the chasm between Castro's best behavior and his worst doesn't seem that wide. Edited down from 30 hours of footage shot over three days in February 2002, the 90-minute "Comandante" is interesting in its unique behind-the-scenes footage of one of the world's most ruthless dictators. And if you didn't know anything about Castro, you might enjoy the heroic portrait Stone paints of the revolutionary leader, and the familiar banter between them. "I think we treated each other as equals," Stone says at Sundance, "which was good for the camera."
But it's not so good for the truth, and the resulting film is enraging.
"I know people are very political, and he's a polarizing figure," Stone offers at Sundance. "But I'm really after the man behind the polarizing."
The reasons behind Castro's polarization are pretty clear. Having seized power in a bloody coup in 1959, Castro's tyrannical reign is one of the few matters upon which both the left-leaning human rights organizations and right-leaning leftover Cold Warriors can agree. Cuba has no freedom of speech, of the press, or of assembly. No right to vote. Dissidents and journalists are beaten and detained. In prison they are often starved, denied medical care, and "re-educated." Abject poverty has forced many Cubans, including very young girls, into prostitution. Moreover, boats packed with Cubans trying to flee these conditions have been deliberately sunk by the Cuban government, killing their passengers. In his film, Stone touches on almost none of this.
Of course, when it comes to exclusive interviews, it's not uncommon for reporters to engage in some sort of barter -- whether you're Bob Woodward or Mary Hart -- that trades access for criticality. And yet, when Castro tells Stone, "I assure you that in 43 years of revolution we've never practiced torture. Believe us or not," the silent, unquestioning Stone leaves us with the impression that he believes him -- and thinks we should, too.
There are many other moments when Stone plays the quiet American, and anyone with a passing knowledge of history is left only to groan silently in the theater.
