Four directors talk about the IV INSTAR Film Festival
By EDGAR ARIEL – December 10th, 2023
RIALTA
The fourth edition of the INSTAR Film Festival ends this Sunday. Its vigorous presence -on this occasion as a competition- confirms the need for a sustained reflection on the production, distribution, and configuration of films made in peripheral areas, often with vindicatory agendas and through dissident mechanisms. In this regard, Rialta News has interviewed several of the participants in this film event. They are Cuban filmmaker, screenwriter, and journalist Carlos Melián, Nicaraguan filmmaker Gloria Carrión, Cuban filmmaker Ricardo Figueredo, and Venezuelan colleague Jhon Ciavaldini.
We do so under the following presuppositions and questions... These days, the IV INSTAR Film Festival has been developed with a transnational perspective. Its organizers insist on committing to "daring" cinematographies that "explore the limits of the unusual, of the experimental: the limits of creation". So, how do you value the appearance of this festival and its support to independent filmmakers in subaltern environments; as an observer and/or part of the phenomenon, how do you value the current paths of Cuban cinema and its diasporic character?
Carlos Melián
I would like the festival to grow, to become a meeting point and a platform for debate within the Cuban diaspora. But I also feel that it could be quite boring. The diaspora should step out of itself, out of its circular journeys, perhaps through the idea of exile.
For instance, in this exhibition, I saw a Haitian film that made me realize that we can't always access films from Haiti. In that sense, INSTAR was much more important because it put me in contact with Haiti. Haiti is a lot like Santiago de Cuba. Like Cuba. They were talking about us there. We are united by ruin. So, the idea that a festival for the Cuban diaspora could be fun or useful fell apart for me.
Perhaps it would be good to make it a festival for the Caribbean. I mean, Cuban cinema as a diaspora, as an exile, does not interest me. It's frustrating that we can only aspire to be framed as a diaspora. We should run away from that label that only brings anti-capitalist and Cuban sympathizers to theaters. That niche audience doesn't interest me, it saddens me. We have to burn all that.
The current paths of Cuban cinema in the diaspora or in exile seem sad to me. If before, living in Cuba, we could reach the co-production markets without the financial support of our film institute, now, in the diaspora, we are doomed to make very precarious films. I see no future, to tell you the truth. Or maybe I do; maybe the future will be to make films that satisfy our creative impulses: tiny films, films that somehow replicate the push of the Cuban industry: nonexistent. Films that are shot in a courtyard, in a house, around a table. Things like that, gagged by poverty.
If, on the other hand, we think of cinema outside the diaspora category, without the difficulties that this implies, it is less complicated to conceive that any of us will succeed in making important films. In other words, a politicized diaspora vision impoverishes the imagination. It is like collectivizing the Cuban cinema of the diaspora. Or like giving it a dialectical condition, which walks towards the future with an immanent destiny. We should focus on managing economic aid for production and development, not of Cuban cinema, but of cinema, and that's it. In short, a mess.
Gloria Carrión
I had the honor of being a jury member for this year's PM Awards 2023 and, through this experience, I could understand the vitality that independent Cuban cinema has at this moment: I was very impressed with the diversity, strength, and courage of Cuban filmmakers. Premios PM 2023 de este año y pude, a través de esta experiencia, darme cuenta de la vitalidad que tiene en este momento el cine cubano independiente. Quedé muy impresionada con la diversidad, la fuerza y la valentía de los cineastas cubanos.
It seems to me that the adversity and challenges posed by exile to these artists is a kind of creative engine. Something that has left me very impressed is the flame lit in each of these filmmakers scattered around the world. Despite all the difficulties, despite all the persecution and censorship, they draw resources and build their own ways of narrating what they have lived, the reality of Cuba, both from the island and from exile. It seems to me that this power is a way of resisting, of continuing to narrate despite adversity. That is absolutely praiseworthy and necessary.
I also believe that the challenges being faced by Cuban artists in exile have a lot in common with what we Nicaraguan or Venezuelan filmmakers in exile are going through. There is a very powerful narrative potential and the possibility of dialogue between us and the possibility of finding new production schemes, new ways of telling stories, and new risks to take.
I always want to make it clear that for me exile is not only a limitation; it is also the possibility to rethink the limits of cinematographic language, and it is an opportunity to continue telling stories.
The INSTAR Film Festival plays a fundamental role in the promotion of subaltern cinema. I think spaces like INSTAR are very uncommon, especially if they have such a clear idea of promoting this type of cinema made in adversity, under persecution, under censorship, and in tremendously difficult contexts. In such a globalized world, so focused on profitability, I think this is commendable and urgent.
This type of cinema, which is not made amid comfort, is urgent, necessary, and must be seen, supported, and distributed. INSTAR achieves this mission with flying colors. I admire and applaud the work of curatorship, promotion, and sense of mission for/with subaltern filmmakers.
Ricardo Figueredo
The INSTAR Film Festival is a kind of oasis for Cuban filmmakers who are in the diaspora and for many other filmmakers who do not find the ideal, appropriate, and natural space to promote their works. I think it's a brilliant idea and an act of faith and will of Tania [Bruguera] towards her filmmaking colleagues. It is something I will always be grateful for.
The festival seems to me, above all, an act of courage. I value and consider it very much. I hope that all countries that have problems with their cinematography have a person like Tania with this initiative to make a festival with films that nobody wants to show.
Cuban cinema is not in its best times. It is in a dark moment, as is the whole country. All of Cuba is under censorship and repression towards artists. It is very unfortunate what is happening in this context. I think INSTAR is a kind of beacon that shines a light on all this. It shows that it is not impossible to make a festival where the works of banned, marginalized filmmakers can be seen... It is also a way of striking a blow against dictatorial governments. I hope this festival lasts for many years.
Jhon Ciavaldini
The festival exudes a need to exist in the face of the increasing Cuban diaspora -the exodus of intellectuals and a generation of great filmmakers who have gained worldwide recognition-, censorship, and the lack of spaces within the country, even more so with the closing of the ICAIC Young Filmmaker Showcase.
I believe the organizers have managed to see that these needs and problems exist in other countries with authoritarian regimes, many of which are even allies of the Cuban state. This allows us to navigate the same waters, to have points in common, and therefore, the dialogue between our countries becomes more necessary. One way to do this is through our cinema, fighting against propaganda and censorship. The fact that my film, full of images of repression by the Venezuelan State, is available in Cuba and that someone can see it and contrast the image given by the official media of an allied regime, is something that fills me with great exaltation.
You can read the original note here