電影理論101作業需要寫的命題作文，以Third Cinema為背景分析這部電影，算是提供一個比較學術的視角。當然可以用來分析電影的理論很多，這部隻是剛好被親愛的教授安插在了Third Cinema這一章節，本篇也一如既往地牽強附會。雖然寫的不是很滿意，快放假了實在是懶得多修改了，交了完事，就先這樣吧，不準确之處虛心接受批評。請Chat老師翻譯的中文版附在最後，語調之正經令人汗顔????。
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
譯文如下：
《欠發達的記憶》與我對第三電影的任何預期都相去甚遠。在觀看之前，所有的相關文章在我腦海中建立了一種印象：激進、低成本、制作粗糙，揭示某種破敗且遙遠的生活狀況。
然而，作為廣受認可的第三電影代表作，《欠發達的記憶》完全颠覆了上述所有描述。主角塞爾吉奧過着資産階級的生活，電影以高質量的制作水準和精心設計的鏡頭語言細膩地展現了這一點。盡管它是一部低成本電影（Kang, 2020），但這一點既不明顯，也不直觀。整部電影的故事和氛圍都顯得過于“酷”、過于“國際化”、過于“不憤怒”，以至于不像是一部第三電影。直到真實的曆史畫面——饑餓人民的影像——突然闖入，我才将這部電影與自己對古巴革命及所有這些黑暗曆史的想象聯系起來。
《欠發達的記憶》改編自埃德蒙多·德斯諾埃斯（Edmundo Desnoes）的小說，由托馬斯·古鐵雷斯·阿萊亞（Tomás Gutiérrez Alea）執導。他們二人皆為古巴人，并對古巴社會在革命後的轉型有着自己的思考。
這部電影顯然既不是第一電影，也不是第二電影，但有人可能會認為，它在引人注目的情節和美學表達上受到了這兩者的影響。從核心上看，《欠發達的記憶》符合第三電影反對殖民主義以及第一、第二電影主導形式的立場，但它采用了一種更為内省和自我批判的方式。與傳統的反殖民電影直接抨擊帝國主義不同，這部電影批判的是殖民主義和階級特權在心理層面上的持續影響。塞爾吉奧作為一名資産階級知識分子，體現了殖民結構所導緻的疏離感和割裂感，無法真正融入革命進程，也無法在新古巴找到歸屬感。
在文章《第三電影再探》中，羅伯特·斯塔姆（Robert Stam）指出，第三電影必然會采用“國家寓言”，而“寓言作為一種保護性的僞裝，能夠抵禦審查制度的打壓”（1965, pp. 288-289）。電影對古巴導彈危機和豬灣入侵的曆史背景僅通過報紙或電視的短暫鏡頭暗示，導緻故事情節與現實之間顯得有些脫節。然而，在塞爾吉奧漫無目的地遊蕩在古巴崎岖的土地上時，影片無意間展現出的緊張氛圍，使其被認為“公然批判當時的古巴政權”（Burton, 1977），但這種批判是寓言式的。
值得注意的是，《欠發達的記憶》成功通過了審查，并在古巴合法上映，這與《殺戮演繹》截然不同。作為後革命時期的古巴電影，隻要沒有完全否定革命，諷刺和社會批判都能被放行。伊琳娜·特羅坎（Irina Trocan）甚至指出，《欠發達的記憶》是“菲德爾·卡斯特羅政權給予電影人自由的重要證據之一”（2020）。這一點使得當時的古巴電影在某種程度上有别于其他第三電影，并打破了一些刻闆印象。
從政治批判轉向文本分析，我想強調幾處證明《欠發達的記憶》具有寓言特質的細節，這些細節表明它試圖跳脫娛樂電影的範疇，指向現實世界。
例如，在影片約16分鐘處，鏡頭掃過一個廣告牌，上面寫着：“我們的酒是苦的，但它是我們的。” 這或許是一種關于國家自豪感的表達——即便古巴一團糟，它仍是值得熱愛的祖國。再比如，在大約37分鐘時，塞爾吉奧的導演朋友談及他下一部電影的計劃，稱它會是“一種拼貼，一種混合一切的東西。” 塞爾吉奧回應：“但它必須有意義。” 朋友随即回答：“會有的。你會看到。” 這是一場值得回味的對話。在某種程度上，這位導演朋友的角色似乎是托馬斯·古鐵雷斯·阿萊亞的化身。《欠發達的記憶》本身正是一部現實與虛構交織的拼貼，并且它确實具有某種意義（無論如何解讀），它直指古巴社會的壓抑狀态，并因此産生了深遠的影響。
電影之外的有趣現象是，它在全球範圍内，尤其是美國，收獲了極高的評價，但托馬斯·古鐵雷斯·阿萊亞本人卻被拒絕入境美國（Burton, 1977）。在西方世界赢得多個國際獎項後，古鐵雷斯·阿萊亞甚至在一次采訪中表示，“非古巴觀衆比古巴觀衆更能理解《欠發達的記憶》（Kang, 2020）。” 這引發了一個問題：第三電影是否可以像這樣，被第一世界的殖民大國歡迎，而不是引起冒犯？
古鐵雷斯·阿萊亞本人曾表示，“這部電影在某種意義上達成了它的目标——它讓觀衆感到不安和動搖；它迫使人們思考”（Vickers, 2023）。這是我用來證明這部電影屬于第三電影的倒數第二個證據。畢竟，第三電影的目的不僅是反對“敵人”，更是喚醒“盟友”——在本片的語境下，即古巴人民。
“[欠發達]在一切事物上留下了痕迹……你與這些人毫無關系……欠發達是沒有連貫性的。一切都會被遺忘。人們沒有一緻性。你記得很多事。你記得太多。” 這是塞爾吉奧的獨白。這既是他作為知識分子的自憐，也是他對身邊古巴人民俯視般的同情。但他并沒有錯——欠發達是一種烙印，一種印記，刻在人們身上，包括他自己。從某種意義上說，通過這部電影，導演詩意地将這種無形的印記展現給了全世界。影片中的這最後兩句話，是否其實是古鐵雷斯·阿萊亞和德斯諾埃斯借主角之口表達的真實想法？這個猜測并非沒有依據，因為“他們在電影中為彼此寫下了自我反思的時刻”（Vickers, 2023）。這種私人化的觸感，使得這部電影在某種程度上成為了一種個人記憶的再現，而非官方曆史，正如蘇珊·海沃德（Susan Hayward）在《電影研究：核心概念》（2023）中所指出的“第三電影”的特質。
最終，《欠發達的記憶》是一部獨特且非典型的第三電影。它的藝術價值與深刻意圖即便對于像我這樣對曆史和政治了解有限的人來說，依然能夠被感知，并借此窺見古巴社會及其革命餘波的複雜層次。
