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This project has been a labour of love for Benicio Del Toro, taking on a role he was surely born to play. After finding a director in Steven Soderbergh, they have both created a sprawling, mammoth work which, if screened together, would run over four hours. Structurally and stylistically the two parts are distinct, but still feel like two children from the same parents. Che Part I (subtitled The Argentine), was released in the U.K. in January and tells the story of Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara’s involvement in the Cuban revolution of the 1950s. Part I jumps backward and forward in time, flicking from Che’s first meeting with Fidel Castro and their fight towards Havana, to a documentary style interview with Che in 1964 when he was in the U.S. to address the United Nations General Assembly. The Argentine tells the story of many characters, the struggle of a nation, and feels altogether like a bigger enterprise.
Part II, however, focuses on a more personal revolution. Given that the main focus of Part I is the journey towards Havana, it might seem odd that we never actually see the revolutionaries arrive. Instead Part II (subtitled Guerilla) starts in 1965 when Che disappears from Cuba, resigning his position in Castro’s government, a government they had fought so hard to establish. Che arrives in Bolivia intent on bringing about a revolution there as he did in Cuba, but this time he is the sole leader and his support network is not as wide. It is telling that Che calls this an ‘armed struggle’, signifying that this is not a flashy, political drama, but a grass-roots revolution that we see happening from the ground. To coincide with this smaller focus there is no time-travelling and little location-hopping; we are immersed in the jungles of Bolivia and left to find our way out.
Soderbergh allows the camera to soak in the landscape of rural Bolivia – wild, barren, and yet beautiful. Its calm surface is about to be shattered by the presence of Che’s revolutionary band, and the Bolivian army which is determined to stamp out this threat. While it may be helpful to know a little of the political background, it is not necessary. All we need to know is revealed in snippets of dialogue. This information is never revealed self-consciously, without the heavy weight of ‘Exposition’. Soderbergh trusts his audience enough not to lead us by the hand, having faith that we will be able to make the connection between scenes and characters.
That is not to say that the film is disjointed. It is beautifully crafted, with intimate direction and hand-held camerawork. The sound editing is also exquisite: we hear every wheeze as Che struggles to breathe through his asthma; we hear every splash of water; our ears are assaulted with the horrific noises of guerrilla gun fighting. Watching the fighting in the jungle we are so close to the action that it is hard not to flinch when the guns are firing in the direction of the camera.
However Del Toro, while altogether outstanding, is best in his character’s small moments – talking to an enemy soldier while in custody, and treating a peasant’s sick child to the relief of the child’s family. His dying moment is one of the best shots of the film; the camera falls with Che as we see his death through his own eyes.
Shown together, Parts I and II would blow you away, but they are still stunning on their own. Che Part II is essential viewing, and watch out for the unlikeliest cameo you’ll see in a film this year.
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