MIAMI FILM FESTIVAL EXPERIENCE

By Johannes Quiles

“Being an actor was not a real profession for a man.” This bold statement made by a film historian in director Gaspar González’s latest opus, Errol Flynn’s Ghost: Hollywood in Havana encapsulates why Errol Flynn was so obsessed with Cuba. Although the film carries the name of the actor best known for his swashbuckling and heroic roles, the real star of this film is the cinemas in pre-Castro Cuba. Watching black and white archival footage of these establishments transports viewers to a foreign place that appears all too familiar at the same time thanks to the presence of the films’ stars. The subjects interviewed in the film, such as radio broadcaster Max Lesnik and film historian Christina Lane, make it clear that Cuban audiences went to the movies to see stars. Other than the focus on Errol Flynn later in the film, Errol Flynn’s Ghost: Hollywood in Havana mostly sticks to the literary source material, Hollywood in Havana by Megan Feeney, who also appears in the project.

Although pre-Castro Cuba may seem like a mythical place today, the filmmakers do an excellent job of making the viewer feel right in the center of the action. Shots of cinemas such as the Teatro América (which opened in 1941) and the Cine Riviera (opened in 1946) show viewers how much Cubans respected the art of filmmaking when they were constructed. But the elaborate construction of these buildings was not just limited to the facades. The interiors were equally if not more beautiful. Film historian Scott Eyman said that the point of this attention to detail in designing these buildings was to “make the experience of going to the movies terrific even if the movie was lousy.”

Lousy movies aside, Hollywood did an excellent job of marketing films to people in pre-Castro Cuba. One woman interviewed said, “Cubans were watching the same films Americans were.” In that sense, the film capitalizes on the presence of American imperialism, which is also the inspiration of the Hollywood in Havana book, according to Feeney who appears throughout the film. Foreign grosses accounted for more than 30 percent of a film’s revenue, which means that heavy promotion was required to ensure success, especially in countries like Cuba. Another woman who was interviewed in Spanish stated that she would write to the movie stars and they would often respond by writing back and sending autographed photos. This gimmick, of course, was used by the Hollywood promotional companies, which had their own offices in Cuba. Nevertheless, these marketing promotions fed the desires of the Cuban people to watch films sometimes three or four times a week to see their favorite stars.

Indeed, film stars were quite enamored of Cuba as well. At this point, Errol Flynn’s name must be mentioned because he serves as a transitional link from Hollywood’s Golden Age to post-Castro Cuba. Flynn visited Cuba often, and the film alleges that Flynn was present in Cuba at the time of Castro’s Revolution, although official Cuban sources denied this allegation at the time. Flynn felt insecure about not having much in common with the roles he played. He desperately wanted to be a hero, and he felt that the best way he could do that was to surround himself by rebels. Flynn, of course, suffered from several scandals due to his womanizing ways and found himself in dire financial straits. Castro’s expulsion of Hollywood businesspeople left a gaping hole on the island. Flynn’s ghost does feel like it remains in the island nation and its myriad abandoned and repurposed movie theaters. For anyone who wishes to learn about how influential American films were to the Cuban people, González’s Errol Flynn’s Ghost: Hollywood in Havana is a fine place to start.