Glasgow Havana Film Festival
December 8-13 2022, various venues, Glasgow

“MY BELIEF,” says Eirene Houston, director of the Havana Glasgow film festival, “is that Cuba is the soul of the world, and if Cuba falls we all fall. That’s why I do everything I can to support Cuba, and the possibility that it shows us.”

Twenty years ago, when the deal to twin Glasgow with Havana was being signed, Houston was teaching screenwriting in the Havana film school where one of her students was Hugo Rivalta.

“At the same time the authorities made their agreement,” says Rivalta, “Eirene and I made friends. And 20 years later, here we are with a festival supported by both cities.”

This is now the eighth edition of the festival. How did it come about?

“In 2013 Houston had a film at the Havana film festival. They were looking for ways to connect Glasgow and Havana, and Eirene saw many great films that few people see, because the odds stacked against Cuba.

“Its isolation and lack of resources have meant that Cuban cinema isn’t given the opportunities it deserves, and especially now when to see a film depends so much on marketing. And the blockade just makes things worse.”

By 2015 Houston and Rivalta had created a festival with an ambitious slate of new productions and a 10-day duration.

But there were two obvious difficulties: despite enthusiastic support from the Cuban Film Institute, Cuba had no money to give; and, initially, with no Cuban community in Glasgow there was no base from which to build an audience.

“Would those people who show up for a political reason,” says Houston, “to support the Cuban Five, or to meet Aleida Guevara, the daughter of Che also see that supporting culture is also a very tangible way — and a very Cuban way — to show solidarity?”

To turn this around is the ongoing task of the festival. Houston and Rivalta believe that to experience the culture can have an even bigger impact on more people because it can show just how extraordinary Cuba is.

And the work is paying off. “Over the years we have built up a fantastically loyal audience which is growing all the time. We see that Glaswegians can recognise the importance of culture. And we can’t wait to meet them again this year!”

Eventually the festival secured funding from Glasgow City Council and Scottish Screen, and as the it has grown, it has developed a unique ethos.

“We want to create a family,” says Houston. “Let’s be inclusive and comfortable like we would in Cuba. This isn’t a festival for a minority. It’s an enclave of togetherness and equality. We want to create a microcosm of Cuba in Glasgow.”

The festival is driven by a certain intoxicating utopianism, the idea that it is possible to export the values of Cuban socialism, with its fundamental challenge at all levels — economic, political cultural and personal — to the structures of capitalist societies. Can that work?

“It’s a small festival but it makes a lot of noise,” says Rivalta with a smile.

By the third edition the festival had found a secure home at the Centre for Contemporary Arts (CCA) in Glasgow, and increasingly it reaches out to other parts of the community.

This year, in the Spring, they toured films around rural Scotland. They have reached out to the deaf community, to ensure their full participation in the screenings and they have started screenings in schools.

“We want young people to get used to subtitles from an early age,” says Houston. “We want to combat prejudice, to stir up debate, and to open their outlook. Our education outreach is fundamental to the festival.”

The festival, in other words, is not just from Cuba, but it is for Scotland.

“And,” adds Rivalta, “it’s not just about showing films. This festival generates films. The one you and I are making. The one Alejandro Varela is making right now in Cuba. The one Dani Acosta did. And we feel very proud of this, and we hope the people of Glasgow feel the same way.”

There is also a new film project set in Glasgow, Havana, Villanova and Matanzas, and an international education project working with kids in Valencia, Glasgow and Havana.

“We are here to lay down avenues,” says Houston, “on an international… bridge. A cultural bridge,” Rivalta completes her thought.

You can feel the depth of their collaboration in this ability to finish one another’s sentences, and to think alike. As co-directors, how does their relationship work?

“Communications in Cuba can be difficult,” says Houston, “and I need to be sure that Hugo has money for his phone.”

Once a year they both go to the Havana Film Festival and they decide which director, and which theme the festival should concentrate on.

They also look back into the remarkable archive of Cuban film-making since the revolution for the little known masterpieces that emerged since 1959. This strategy allows them to curate together, and to keep the festival manageable.

This year they are highlighting black film-makers, and the work of Sara Gomez who worked with marginal black communities in the 1960s, nourishing an extraordinary body of creative documentary work within this neglected corner of society. In Cuba she is legendary: dying tragically young at the age of 32, her last film was finished by Tomas Alea, the giant of Cuban cinema.

Three of her features and a handful of short films are the centre of the programme, along with those of her colleague Gloria Rolando.

While Houston curated that programme, Rivalta assembled a programme that embraces fiction and documentary shorts along with some remarkable animation including the work of Ermitis Blanco, the Cuban Hayao Miyazaki.

To celebrate black and female film-makers subverts cultural expectations in a way that both directors approach with relish.

Yet they remain clear-eyed about Cuban reality. They are also showing El Ultimo Pais, a feature by Gretel Marin that deals with the tragedy of mass emigration from the island.

“We are open to a vast range of perspectives on Cuba,” says Rivalta, “and it’s OK to be critical. Our mission is to show and to talk about Cuba. To show that Cuba is worthy of your friendship.

“To do this we must respect the country, and tell the truth. There are always many points of view. But the one thing we don’t want is lies.”

For information visit www.hgfilmfest.com.

To win an original poster of Che, signed by its creator Jim Fitzpatrick, enter the prize draw: https://bit.ly/3AVpUxw.