Directed by Fernando Trueba and Javier Mariscal. Voices of Mario Guerra, Limara Meneses, Estrella Morente, Eman Xor Oña 15A cert, Queen’s, Belfast; Cineworld/Light House, Dublin, 93 min
YOU'D THINK the movies would love jazz. The art forms are, after all, about the same age. Think about it, however, and you realise that, barring an odd Birdhere, an occasional Round Midnightthere, cinema has had surprisingly little to do with this most American of music.
Raise a cheer, then, for this gorgeous animated film concerning the interactions between Latin music and the bebop movement during the post-war years. Arriving with surprisingly little buzz, Chico & Ritashould have been given the chance to cross over like (alluded to in the film's last act) Buena Vista Social Club.
The picture concerns the relationship between two talented Cuban musicians: Rita is a sultry, breathy singer; Chico is a dynamic, melodious pianist. Shortly after their first meeting in Havana, erotic energies are unleashed (the film features a rare animated sex scene) but, when Chico’s jealous girlfriend discovers the tryst, the two separate in a fury.
For the rest of the film, as the pair travel to New York, Paris and Las Vegas, the relationship fires and splutters like one of Havana’s famously ancient US motor cars. Every reconciliation is followed by another furious severance. Rita achieves a degree of fame. Chico manages a cult following.
The animation isn't nearly as lush as that in Sylvain Chomet's recent The Illusionist. Lines are broader, features more caricatured. But the clever stylisation suits the material very nicely. Jazz fans will think of the delicious, colourful designs that graced the covers of albums from Verve Records in the late 1940s. Richard Linklater enthusiasts will see flavours of that director's work on Waking Lifeand A Scanner Darkly. Never touching on realism, the images nonetheless buzz with genuine Latin energy.
It hardly needs to be said that the music is first rate. Featuring virtual cameos from Thelonious Monk, Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker, the picture devotes perhaps a third of its running time to performances.
Maybe
Chico & Ritarelies a bit too heavily on the cooler clichés of jazz iconography (fags, hats, clinking glasses). Perhaps, the story's arc is a little too neat. But the film somehow pulls off a real emotional sucker-punch in its final reel. You'll cry yourself a river. The willow will weep for you. And so on.