Produced by the Mexican Picture Trust
NOTE: There's no final star rating from me on this one. Eisenstein started filming in the early 1930s, but went over budget and the film was never finished as he envisioned. Several versions have been released over time, but none is what you can consider definitive. As such, it seems unfair to judge this on the traditional scale.
Que Viva Mexico! opens as though awakening from a dream. Eisenstein's camera captures an ancient temple, each shot bringing us closer until we are no longer focused on the structure, but on the stone statues that decorate the edifice.
Then suddenly, there are people here as well standing or sitting motionless, as though they too have always been part of the landscape. They have always been here and are the creators and characters in every tale. Every story in Mexico ceases to exist on its own and becomes the continuation of one grand tome stretching back through the ages.
It's an effective, evocative prologue that as reflected through the prism of this film grants the country a timelessness. Sadly, once the opening ends, we get the rest of the film and it is almost universally dull.
How much of that is Eisenstein's fault is impossible to say. Eisenstein never completed the film so he never got to make the final cut. And the director's signature montage approach to filmmaking is almost entirely dependent upon editing to bring the movie to life.
The film was originally intended to be four episodes bookended by the remarkable prologue and an epilogue. Only three of the episodes were actually filmed.
"Sandunga" follows an engagement and wedding, complete with a gold necklace as dowery. The images remain striking, but there's a feeling of repetition that sets in. The monotonous approach extends into the next chapter "Fiesta," which details a religious celebration and bullfighting.
The final stanza "Maguey" is by far its best. There is a compelling story centered around a villager who sees his bride abused by his boss (with a rape implied). The villain holds the girls and throws her husband from the hacienda. He then conspires with his friends to get revenge.
Their effort goes poorly. The boss kills most of the men and captures the rest, including our hero. The prisoners are buried up to their shoulders in the desert sand, then the bad guys ride onto their heads with their horses. It is brutal in a way few films even today can be.
The fourth episode would have focused on the Mexican revolution, but it was never filmed so we move directly into the epilogue focused on how Mexicans treat death with mockery. Children celebrate the dead by eating skulls made of sugar. In its final shots, Que Viva Mexico! shows us characters from the film's episode wearing skull masks. And when they pull of the masks, they reveal only their actual skulls underneath.
There are ideas here. There are compelling images. But is there a good movie in it all? Que Viva Mexico!'s final product reveals itself exactly as it was executed: half-finished thoughts scribbled in an unfinished script.
