The Triangle

Issue date: 1/16/09 Section: Arts & Entertainment

Media Credit: Teresa Isasi

Media Credit: Laura Magruder

Steven Soderberg takes on the delicate task of consolidating the full breadth of Ernesto "Che" Guevara into a biopic. Along with screenwriters Peter Buchanan and Benjamin A. van der Veen, they dodge a well-worn Hollywood method of invoking a tidy narrative. The result on screen is full and pronounced. Presented in two parts, "Che: The Argentine" and "Che: The Revolutionary," what unfolds during the intimidating running time is a coolly detached study of the mechanics of a revolution.

What Soderberg does brilliantly is capture the spirit of a revolutionary, limited to the repetitive terms of military strategy. He does this for nearly four and a half hours, not as an endurance test for his audience, but to earnestly depict the tactical rigor of a driven revolutionary. Che is a minor character in a film largely about the cold and brutal execution of guerilla combat. In doing so, the story avoids having to address the moral underpinnings of what is depicted on screen as a long and bloody revolution.

Consequently, this approach to the story relieves us of Che's psychology, or any sentimental interest in his personal life.

The director reveals "The Passion of the Che," without giving the audience any conflicting personal drama to reflect on. For example, shortly after the 1959 Cuban revolution, Che revealed to his wife his involvement with another woman. The two agreed on a divorce. This actual episode from Che's life is never depicted or referenced in this film.

Personal interest in Che is trivial in comparison to the bigger picture, keeping the audience from sympathizing with Che, or worse - glorifying his actions. Soderberg avoids the all-purpose convenience of reducing his subject down to a symbol or simply, a t-shirt.

This is not a Hollywood biopic of ungrateful caricatures, looking for sympathy in subjectivity. In actuality, Che is fiercely consistent in personal vision. The common storytelling devices simply cannot apply here. French existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre regarded Che as "not only an intellectual but also the most complete human being of our age." This distance gives Che's story one main objective: give direction to his compadres while maintaining justification for his utter defiance in the revolutionary process of fighting economic inequalities.

Part One is shot in crisp 2.35:1 widescreen, giving the film "Lawrence of Arabia" status as a battle epic. These colored scenes of the first half are intercut with stark black and white photography of Che's 1964 visit to New York City. Black and white photography is by definition removed from the colored reality and these scenes, shot like mock news reel footage, are a deliberate aesthetic choice.

In the United States Che utilizes his media platform as a world stage. He does not relish the spotlight, but recognizes the role the media plays in giving exposure and prolonging the life of the Cuban revolution. While speaking at the United Nations, talking to journalists or warily engaging with excitable New York socialites, Che is reluctant. Those who support him in the United States can only understand his politics in theoretical terms. In comparison, those at odds with his politics are quick to demonize him for the moral implications of his revolutionary justice approach in guerilla combat. He is a learned revolutionary body and soul. First and foremost, Che's actions are motivated by personal vision along with the requisite level of dedication. As Part One expires, Che succeeds in carrying out the Cuban revolution, overthrowing Batista.

In Part Two, Che ambitiously attempts a similar revolution to take all of South America. The second half is shot very purposely in a now restricted 1.85:1 aspect ratio. Why the downsize from 2.35:1? Only Soderberg knows for sure. Outnumbered and out of supplies, Che is captured in Bolivia, with the aid of the CIA. Che is executed.

When spitting in the face of his captors or admonishing a fellow compadre for sleeping on the job, Benecio Del Toro is wholly Ernesto "Che" Guevara.

The force of nature performance is played with compassionate intensity. The same dialogue delivered by any other actor would be unthinkable; Del Toro's resemblance to Che is uncanny. His personal magnetism bounces off the screen, even the ordinary display of peeling an orange.

"Che" is an unconventional film, obsessed in mind numbing clarity with action as it unfolds. Stunning in its execution and detailed in attention to subject matter, scene content is limited to fighting, re-grouping or planning an attack. This is a very simple formula that repeats itself without getting trapped by the typical artifices of narrative storytelling. This academic level rigor is familiar to Soderberg's oeuvre, and many cinematic devices like montage over an unsettling score are used effectively. Soderberg is a capable director whose efforts in the "Oceans 11" franchise and Oscar winning "Erin Brockovich" render him a directorial chameleon.

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