Humberto Solas’ Palm d’Or winning drama spans nearly thirty years in the life of one wealthy Cuban family. The story centres around two brothers, Dario (Jorge Trinchet) and Javier Argűelles (Cesar Evora) whose political differences gradually wrench them apart. Beginning in 1932, Dario is a left-wing idealist at odds with his family, while Javier is a free-living playboy. Initially, Javier sympathises with the left. His relationship with an ageing prostitute (Daysi Granados) leads him into gangster Iriarte’s clutches, but after he is despatched by revolutionaries, Javier wavers from fascism to capitalism and eventually communism. He marries Dario’s wealthy sweetheart (Mabel Roch) and gradually rises to the top, while his brother is increasingly marginalized. Eventually, following Castro’s overthrowing of General Batista in 1959, Javier stands alone.
A lavish, handsomely crafted production, A Successful Man recalls the political epics of Bernardo Bertolucci. As with many left-leaning films from South America, it presumes a familiarity with political history and takes a cynical look at sex, family and relationships. “It’s a dog eat dog world”, remarks Rita the prostitute. Those that survive do so at the expense of others, although the end result of all this double-dealing is Javier winds up a lonely, soulless zombie. The excessively slow pace soaks up the evocative period detail (Art Deco sets, sumptuous buildings, beautiful costumes), taking its time to establish the characters. However, the story tends to take sudden leaps into the future, making it harder to keep track of the changes. Characters we presume are significant (Rita, Iriarte) disappear from the narrative, while others steal the spotlight (the boy’s mother Raquel (Raquel Revuelta)), but remain unfathomable. Solas’ direction remains compelling, utilizing some striking camerawork. He rather cleverly uses performance art to ring the changes: tango for the decadent capitalists, the pomp of Wagner (what else?) for the fascist era, Jazz and salsa for the free wheeling anarchists.
For Dario revolution is a serious business. For Javier it is a lark, a chance to indulge in anarchy between self-indulgent soirees and avenge petty grievances. Later on his games extend to blackmail and political manipulation, but he remains a puppet whether to the elder status quo, the anarchists, or fate itself. Surprisingly, Solas skips impatiently through the communist side of the story, robbing us of a chance to get to know the other side. Dario is too solemn to engage, while supposedly significant supporting characters (such as his wife) remain strangers to us. What remains is the hard-edged tale of a man whose principles, politics and allegiances are always up for sale, until decades later he stands a hollow man.
