Havana [DVD] [1990]

That's the recipe for the drink political correctness has renamed "Rum and Coke," but which most of us also still know by its original name, Cuba Libre. And the cocktail invented just over 100 years ago in honor of Cuba's freedom from Spain perfectly epitomizes the state of the island republic's society towards the late 1950s' end of the Batista regime: A sweet, tangy, intoxicating Caribbean foundation, mixed with the classical American exports; from Coke, cars and cigarettes to expatriates and their money ... except, alas, for the one truly valuable thing the U.S. might have brought to Cuba, an understanding of democracy. Instead, during Batista's 30-year dictatorship, Cuba - and particularly Havana - became the Latin Las Vegas, a place where the action was on, the stakes were high, flesh was cheap, gambling was legal (and largely controlled by American mobster Meyer Lansky) and the party never ended.

Until, beset by the revolutionary movement led by a certain Fidel Castro, Batista fled the country in the early morning hours of January 1, 1959. And suddenly the party was over.

The last days of Batista's regime are the backdrop for 1990's "Havana," which sees high-stakes poker ace Jack Weil (Robert Redford) in Cuba for the game of his life. He has "played every elks' club and moose hole in America" and remembers "every hand of every game," he tells Lansky's right-hand man Joe Volpi (Alan Arkin). Now he wants a shot at the big one - playing "with guys who don't even think how much they're playing for." And he knows that the revolutionary fever in the air has the same effect on gamblers as a potent aphrodisiac on those in pursuit of Havana's other main commodity; so in Jack's eyes, now's the time or never. Yet, although liberally indulging in all of Havana's pleasures, he couldn't care less about Cuban politics. All he thinks he needs to know is "who's in charge, and how to stay out of trouble."

But then he meets Roberta Duran (Lena Olin at the top of her game), the wife of a wealthy physician aligned with Castro. (Raul Julia, who, despite a stellar performance, chose to remain uncredited, reportedly because he didn't receive first billing alongside Redford - a great pity, and a disservice to himself.) Now Jack falls in love, badly enough to go against his life's entire philosophy to try and save Roberta from Batista's henchmen after her husband has been arrested and supposedly killed, and she questioned and tortured by the secret police. And now Jack really does get to play the game of his life - except that now it's no longer about cards at all; and when Volpi at last does put together the big game he has lobbied for, Jack is no longer even in attendance. Instead, he's out putting his personal interests at stake for Roberta.

"Havana" was Robert Redford's and director Sydney Pollack's seventh cooperation after "This Property Is Condemned" (1966), "Jeremiah Johnson" (1972), "The Way We Were" (1973), "Three Days of the Condor" (1975), "The Electric Horseman" (1979) and "Out of Africa" (1985); and it shows, for better and for worse. At his best, Redford delivers magically, whether dealing cards at a poker table surrounded by marks and beautiful women, or arguing with Roberta about her stake in the revolution, or letting her captured husband know how he has enjoyed being with Roberta; realizing jealousy's potency in stirring a betrayed, hot-blooded husband's fighting spirit, after Jack has decided, against all self-interest, to free and reunite him with her. But there are those few occasional lines, those few mannerisms that smack of just a pinch too much routine; and why an exchange like "Were you waiting for me?" - "All my life" didn't make Redford's and Pollack's usually unfailing kitsch-o-meters go into overtilt, I honestly don't understand. (Besides, whoever had the brilliant idea of making Redford wear a Hawaii shirt in the closing scene should be flogged and hung out to dry in a Hawaii shirt himself. Eeeewwww ...)

Undeservedly, "Havana" flopped at the box office and only later began picking up audience favors. This is primarily blamed on its unfair (and shallow) initial comparison to "Casablanca," which I don't think it ever set out to replicate; in addition to its somewhat two-dimensional political outlook (and here I agree). Redford himself has also been quoted commenting on his suddenly prominent facial lines, an effect only underscored by the fact that he had last been seen on the big screen four years earlier in "Legal Eagles" with decidedly lesser visible lines. But come on, folks - the man was over fifty when he made "Havana" ... have you ever wondered to what extent you've internalized Hollywood's youth addiction if you did *not* expect his age to start showing at some point? Frankly, I rather think it's admirable if an actor whose looks have always factored highly in his appeal makes a point in going against the expectation that he submit to plastic surgery, *and* then continues to make his mark on society and the movie business regardless.

So forget "Havana"'s bad rep. This is a beautifully shot, superbly edited, sumptuous drama (a particular delight editing-wise are the scenes setting Jack's forays into Havana's night life against the city's less glamorous realities); part romance, part political thriller; magnificently scored by Dave Grusin and endowed with all of Pollack's and production designer Terence Marsh's known attention to detail, whose authenticity even "spooked" Cuban-born Tomas Milian, (who plays secret police commander Menocal), as Milian says in the DVD's featurette - and this although for obvious reasons the entire set had to be reconstructed in the Dominican Republic. It may not be one of the multiple Oscar-winning Redford-Pollack collaborations ... but overall it's still head and shoulders above many another production I'll refrain from naming here.

Even if the screenplay leaves a slight aftertaste of Alfred Hitchcock's TOPAZ in the mouth, it still provides excellent scenes involving a great Lena Olin as a scandinavian guerilla sympathizer and a lucid Robert Redford who plays the character of a distant cousin of THE WAY WE WERE's hero.

Sydney Pollack surely knows how to direct an intimate scene between a man and a woman and one enjoys these scenes without any scruples. As for the political analysis of the events happening during this last week of 1958 in Cuba, don't wait for more than the usual clichés one can expect from a production of one of the Hollywood majors.

A DVD zone forgotten movies.