电影理论101作业需要写的命题作文，以Third Cinema为背景分析这部电影，算是提供一个比较学术的视角。当然可以用来分析电影的理论很多，这部只是刚好被亲爱的教授安插在了Third Cinema这一章节，本篇也一如既往地牵强附会。虽然写的不是很满意，快放假了实在是懒得多修改了，交了完事，就先这样吧，不准确之处虚心接受批评。请Chat老师翻译的中文版附在最后，语调之正经令人汗颜????。

原文如下：

Memories of Underdevelopment is far away from any of my expectations of Third Cinema. Before watching, all these articles established an impression in my head: aggressive, low-budget, roughly crafted, revealing some shabby and seemingly remote life situation.

However, as the widely recognized representative of Third Cinema, Memories of Underdevelopment defies any description above. The protagonist, Sergio, lives a bourgeois life, which is decently depicted with high production quality and delicately designed camera language. Despite being a low-budget film (Kang, 2020), this is neither obvious nor intuitive. The entire story as well as vibe were simply too “cool”, too “international”, and too “not-indignant” to be a Third Cinema. Not until the real historic footage of starving people came in abruptly did I match the movie with my imagination of a movie about the Cuban Revolution and all these dark histories.

Memories of Underdevelopment is an adaptation of Edmundo Desnoes’s novel, directed by Tomás Gutiérrez Alea. Both of them are Cuban and have their thoughts on the post-revolutionary transition of Cuban society.

It’s for sure not First or Second Cinema, but one may argue it’s largely influenced by these on its eye-catching plot and aesthetic expressions. At its core, Memories of Underdevelopment aligns with Third Cinema’s opposition to both colonialism and the dominant forms of First and Second Cinema, but in a more introspective, self-critical way. Unlike conventional anti-colonial films that directly attack imperialism, this film critiques the lingering psychological effects of colonialism and class privilege on an individual level. Sergio, as a bourgeois intellectual, embodies the alienation and detachment caused by colonial structures, unable to fully integrate into the revolutionary process or find belonging in the new Cuba.

In the article “Third Cinema Revisited”, Robert Stam notes that Third Cinema necessarily employs “national allegory”, and “allegory serves as a form of protective camouflage against censorious regime (1965, pp.288-289).” The historical context of the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Bay of Pigs invasion is only subtly revealed through the brief appearance of newspapers or TV, making the storyline somewhat unconnected to reality. Nevertheless, almost unintentionally showcasing the tension when Sergio wanders around the rocky country, this film is viewed as “openly critical of the current Cuban regime” (Burton, 1977), through an allegorical way.

A noteworthy aspect of the production background is that Memories of Underdevelopment passed censorship and was legal in Cuba by any means, unlike The Act of Killing. As a post-revolutionary Cuban Cinema, whose feature is that as long as there’s “short of completely dismissing the Revolution, green light for satire and social criticism.”. Irina Trocan even pointed out that Memories of Underdevelopment is a piece of “ample evidence of the freedom offered by the Fidel Castro regime to filmmakers (2020).” This sets the Cuban Cinema at this moment slightly apart from other Third Cinema, as well as against stereotypes.

Shifting away from political criticism, I’d like to hightlight several pieces of evidence proving the allegorical essence of Memories of Underdevelopment, through which indicating the intention of jumping out of the recreational movie world and reflecting on reality.

For example, at around 16 minutes, one shoot was given to an advertisement board, saying “Our wine is bitter, but it’s ours.” This might be an expression around national pride–even if Cuba was a mess, it’s still beloved motherland. At around 37 minutes, Sergio’s friend, the director, was talking about the plan for his next film, which would be “a kind of collage, a mix of everything.” Sergio replied: “But it must have a meaning.” The friend followed up: “It will. You will see.” It’s a chewable conversation. To some extent, the character of the director is an avatar of Tomás Gutiérrez Alea. Memories of Underdevelopment is a collage of fiction and reality, and it does have a certain meaning (however one may interpret), addressing Cuban societal depression, and therefore profound influence.

One interesting point beyond the film is the contrast between its positive reception globally, especially in the United States, and the national refusal to Tomás Gutiérrez Alea’s entry the U.S. (Burton, 1977). Winning multiple global awards in the Western World, Gutiérrez Alea even said in an interview that “non-Cuban audiences understood Memories better than Cuban audiences did (Kang, 2020).” This brings up a question: Is it acceptable for Third Cinema to be like this, being welcomed rather than offending the colonizing power in the First World?

Gutiérrez Alea himself stated that “it achieved its goal in a sense that it disturbed and unsettled its audience; it forced people to think” (Vickers, 2023), serving as my second last piece of evidence proving that this film does belong to Third Cinema. After all, the purpose of Third Cinema is not only to oppose the “enemy”, but also to awaken the “allies” – Cuban people, in this context.

“[Underdevelopment] leaves its mark on everything… You have nothing to do with these people… There is no continuity in underdevelopment. Everything is forgotten. People are not consistent. You remember many things. You remember too much.” This is Sergio’s soliloquy. This is his self-pity as an intellectual, as well as his condescending compassion for the Cuban people around him. But he is not wrong – underdevelopment is a mark, an imprint, on everyone including him. In a way, by making this film, the director poetically renders this invisible imprint globally visible. Were the last two sentences actually Gutiérrez Alea and Desnoes’s own thoughts through the protagonist’s words? It’s a reasonable guess, since “they wrote self-reflective moments for each of them to appear in the film (Vickers, 2023).” These intimate touches make the film to a certain level a representation of personal memory, not official history, as Susan Hayward points out in “Third Cinema” in Cinema Studies: The Key Concepts (2023).

In the end, Memories of Underdevelopment is a unique and atypical Third Cinema. In conclusion, Memories of Underdevelopment stands as a unique and atypical example of Third Cinema. Its artistic merit and profound intentions can be appreciated even by those with limited knowledge of history or politics (like me), offering a deeper understanding of the complex layers of Cuban society and its revolutionary aftermath.

References

Burton, J. (1977). MEMORIES OF UNDERDEVELOPMENT in the Land of

Overdevelopment. Cinéaste, 8(1), 16–58. http://www.jstor.org/stable/42683130

Hayward, S. (2023). Cinema Studies: the Key Concepts (6th ed., pp.41-43). Routledge.

Gutiérrez Alea, T. (Director). (1968). Memories of underdevelopment.

Kang, E. (2020, October 7). Navigating the Cuban Revolution in memories of underdevelopment. Cineccentric. https://cineccentric.com/2020/07/23/navigating-the-cuban-revolution-in-memories-of-underdevelopment/

Stam, R. (1988). Film theory: an introduction. Choice Reviews Online, 26(02), 281–291. https://doi.org/10.5860/choice.26-0841

Versteirt, B. (2020, April 22). Neither for the revolution nor against it? the subtle radicalism of

‘Memories of Underdevelopment’ Photogénie. https://photogenie.be/neither-for-the-revolution-nor-against-it-the-subtle-radicalism-of-memories-of-underdevelopment/

Vickors, J. (2023, April 5). Memories of underdevelopment; or how I learned to stop worrying and love the revolution. https://blogs.iu.edu/establishingshot/2023/04/05/memories-of-underdevelopment-or-how-i-learned-to-stop-worrying-and-love-the-revolution

译文如下：

《欠发达的记忆》与我对第三电影的任何预期都相去甚远。在观看之前，所有的相关文章在我脑海中建立了一种印象：激进、低成本、制作粗糙，揭示某种破败且遥远的生活状况。

然而，作为广受认可的第三电影代表作，《欠发达的记忆》完全颠覆了上述所有描述。主角塞尔吉奥过着资产阶级的生活，电影以高质量的制作水准和精心设计的镜头语言细腻地展现了这一点。尽管它是一部低成本电影（Kang, 2020），但这一点既不明显，也不直观。整部电影的故事和氛围都显得过于“酷”、过于“国际化”、过于“不愤怒”，以至于不像是一部第三电影。直到真实的历史画面——饥饿人民的影像——突然闯入，我才将这部电影与自己对古巴革命及所有这些黑暗历史的想象联系起来。

《欠发达的记忆》改编自埃德蒙多·德斯诺埃斯（Edmundo Desnoes）的小说，由托马斯·古铁雷斯·阿莱亚（Tomás Gutiérrez Alea）执导。他们二人皆为古巴人，并对古巴社会在革命后的转型有着自己的思考。

这部电影显然既不是第一电影，也不是第二电影，但有人可能会认为，它在引人注目的情节和美学表达上受到了这两者的影响。从核心上看，《欠发达的记忆》符合第三电影反对殖民主义以及第一、第二电影主导形式的立场，但它采用了一种更为内省和自我批判的方式。与传统的反殖民电影直接抨击帝国主义不同，这部电影批判的是殖民主义和阶级特权在心理层面上的持续影响。塞尔吉奥作为一名资产阶级知识分子，体现了殖民结构所导致的疏离感和割裂感，无法真正融入革命进程，也无法在新古巴找到归属感。

在文章《第三电影再探》中，罗伯特·斯塔姆（Robert Stam）指出，第三电影必然会采用“国家寓言”，而“寓言作为一种保护性的伪装，能够抵御审查制度的打压”（1965, pp. 288-289）。电影对古巴导弹危机和猪湾入侵的历史背景仅通过报纸或电视的短暂镜头暗示，导致故事情节与现实之间显得有些脱节。然而，在塞尔吉奥漫无目的地游荡在古巴崎岖的土地上时，影片无意间展现出的紧张氛围，使其被认为“公然批判当时的古巴政权”（Burton, 1977），但这种批判是寓言式的。

值得注意的是，《欠发达的记忆》成功通过了审查，并在古巴合法上映，这与《杀戮演绎》截然不同。作为后革命时期的古巴电影，只要没有完全否定革命，讽刺和社会批判都能被放行。伊琳娜·特罗坎（Irina Trocan）甚至指出，《欠发达的记忆》是“菲德尔·卡斯特罗政权给予电影人自由的重要证据之一”（2020）。这一点使得当时的古巴电影在某种程度上有别于其他第三电影，并打破了一些刻板印象。

从政治批判转向文本分析，我想强调几处证明《欠发达的记忆》具有寓言特质的细节，这些细节表明它试图跳脱娱乐电影的范畴，指向现实世界。

例如，在影片约16分钟处，镜头扫过一个广告牌，上面写着：“我们的酒是苦的，但它是我们的。” 这或许是一种关于国家自豪感的表达——即便古巴一团糟，它仍是值得热爱的祖国。再比如，在大约37分钟时，塞尔吉奥的导演朋友谈及他下一部电影的计划，称它会是“一种拼贴，一种混合一切的东西。” 塞尔吉奥回应：“但它必须有意义。” 朋友随即回答：“会有的。你会看到。” 这是一场值得回味的对话。在某种程度上，这位导演朋友的角色似乎是托马斯·古铁雷斯·阿莱亚的化身。《欠发达的记忆》本身正是一部现实与虚构交织的拼贴，并且它确实具有某种意义（无论如何解读），它直指古巴社会的压抑状态，并因此产生了深远的影响。

电影之外的有趣现象是，它在全球范围内，尤其是美国，收获了极高的评价，但托马斯·古铁雷斯·阿莱亚本人却被拒绝入境美国（Burton, 1977）。在西方世界赢得多个国际奖项后，古铁雷斯·阿莱亚甚至在一次采访中表示，“非古巴观众比古巴观众更能理解《欠发达的记忆》（Kang, 2020）。” 这引发了一个问题：第三电影是否可以像这样，被第一世界的殖民大国欢迎，而不是引起冒犯？

古铁雷斯·阿莱亚本人曾表示，“这部电影在某种意义上达成了它的目标——它让观众感到不安和动摇；它迫使人们思考”（Vickers, 2023）。这是我用来证明这部电影属于第三电影的倒数第二个证据。毕竟，第三电影的目的不仅是反对“敌人”，更是唤醒“盟友”——在本片的语境下，即古巴人民。

“[欠发达]在一切事物上留下了痕迹……你与这些人毫无关系……欠发达是没有连贯性的。一切都会被遗忘。人们没有一致性。你记得很多事。你记得太多。” 这是塞尔吉奥的独白。这既是他作为知识分子的自怜，也是他对身边古巴人民俯视般的同情。但他并没有错——欠发达是一种烙印，一种印记，刻在人们身上，包括他自己。从某种意义上说，通过这部电影，导演诗意地将这种无形的印记展现给了全世界。影片中的这最后两句话，是否其实是古铁雷斯·阿莱亚和德斯诺埃斯借主角之口表达的真实想法？这个猜测并非没有依据，因为“他们在电影中为彼此写下了自我反思的时刻”（Vickers, 2023）。这种私人化的触感，使得这部电影在某种程度上成为了一种个人记忆的再现，而非官方历史，正如苏珊·海沃德（Susan Hayward）在《电影研究：核心概念》（2023）中所指出的“第三电影”的特质。

最终，《欠发达的记忆》是一部独特且非典型的第三电影。它的艺术价值与深刻意图即便对于像我这样对历史和政治了解有限的人来说，依然能够被感知，并借此窥见古巴社会及其革命余波的复杂层次。