Jorge Perugorría's Unfinished Dreams

August 12, 2019

Even though you don't see me on the big screen, that doesn't mean I stay home depressed, waiting for someone to call me, assures Cuba's most international actor, president of the Gibara International Film Festival. "No, no, I am fighting, involved in actions that give me as much satisfaction as shooting a movie, that make me very happy"

"I had prepared myself to go all out, to 'hang from the curtains,' so you can imagine the bucket of cold water that fell on me when Titón and Tabío told me I should do the scene with my back to the camera. 'You're going to turn around on your own the moment you say I don't know what… and I want to give you a hug.' I tried to convince them, but there was no way, and it turned out to be wonderful! Of course, they are great masters and I was a young man who was just beginning in cinema."

Jorge Perugorría tells JR the anecdote that took place more than 25 years ago, and this man so beloved by Cuba that next Tuesday will be his birthday, cannot help but become emotional. "Strawberry and Chocolate marked my entire process: shooting with Titón's delicate health... There was a moment when he had to leave to undergo surgery, but Tabío pressed on. Later he returned and Juan Carlos remained at the helm of the team... There was a very special atmosphere, an energy charged with sensitivity.

"We were really surprised by what happened with the film. It was tremendous for me because suddenly I was going to work with Tomás Gutiérrez Alea: one of the icons of Cuban cinema, but also with Juan Carlos Tabío, the director of Plaff or Too Much Fear of Life, It's Up for Grabs... Then that story inspired by Senel Paz's short story that had revolutionized the literary world...," recalls the President of the Gibara International Festival, which just celebrated its 15th edition.

"He was very rigorous in the preparation, which took us months. We researched hard, they put me in contact with people whose characteristics they wanted to be present in my character. And then the shooting! Every day we went back to read the scenes, we extracted the subtexts, the intentions; we dug deeper and deeper into what was behind it. It's that there was awareness that we were filming a film necessary for Cuba. We thought about talking about ourselves, about our problems, without thinking that they were universal."

The Beginning

—I'm struck by the fact that you studied Construction at a polytechnic...

—When I finished pre-university, I had already run out of time to take the entrance exams for the Instituto Superior de Arte (ISA). I had even enrolled in the Medical Corps, except in 12th grade I discovered acting and the world changed for me. I wanted to be an actor, nothing else! I decided to study at the polytechnic that was right in front of my school, because it would be two years.

"The good thing was that I could continue with theater. I formed an amateur group with which we participated in a competition called by Humberto Rodríguez, leader of Olga Alonso, in which I won the acting award. So that master of actors, who was looking for a Romeo, asked me if I wanted to be part of the group. Such tremendous luck, because many of the greatest actors in this country have passed through Humberto's hands. That's how my career began.

"Another gift the polytechnic gave me was meeting Elsita, my love for life, the mother of my children. Together we did our graduation thesis."

—You mean you hadn't been involved with art until then?

—I lived in Wajay, a little rural town where there was a cultural center. My initial calling was painting, which I later took up again over the years. I started studying it, but I dropped it. Mine was a humble, working family; at that point my people had probably never seen a theatrical work.

—And finally ISA?

—I didn't get in because I started at Olga Alonso, where I not only played Romeo, but many other characters. One day one of the actors told me he was auditioning at ISA and needed my help: for me to accompany him with the scene we already had prepared, the duel between Tybalt and Romeo.

"Raquel Revuelta presided over the jury. When we finished, she had me called over: And you're not going to audition?, she asked me. 'I'll tell you something I'm forbidden to say, but I'll make an exception with you: you passed acting. I want to encourage you and for you to take the Math and Spanish tests.' And it certainly encouraged me, but I failed Math.

"Humberto was my first great teacher. Later I would continue with Caribbean Theater, under the direction of another, Eugenio Hernández Espinosa: a decisive experience in my training, as were the teachings of that table phenomenon named Carlos Díaz and doing the famous North American Theater Trilogy.

"Shiralad, the television adventures, turned out to be another good learning experience. It was after that Strawberry and Chocolate came. We found out about the casting while I was performing in The Maids, by Jean Genet, a production by Carlos Díaz with which he founded his magnificent company Teatro El Público. In that piece I played Clara, which was very favorable. Carlos also generously prepared me, because he too was vying for the role of Diego. Against all odds, they chose me."

—Then you've acted for the main Cuban directors...

—I've been very fortunate. First Titón and Tabío, with whom I later shot The Horn of Plenty and Waiting List, and with whom I also maintain an almost family relationship... It was a blessing to have been part of Titón's last two, Strawberry and Chocolate and Guantanamera; and of Humberto Solás's last two: Honey for Oshún and Barrio Cuba. A greater privilege for an actor, because they are the leading figures of Cuban cinema; two intellectuals of practically impossible stature to find.

"From recent times I'm proud of my collaboration with Fernando Pérez, recognized by all as the most important living filmmaker on the Island; but also with the very talented Arturo Sotto...

"At the same time I've had the joy of sharing with really impressive actors and actresses. Sometimes people aren't aware of the quality of Cuban actors. I say this with arguments, because I've made a career abroad with colleagues from Europe, Latin America, even from the United States, and truly our acting school is world-class, the result of that mixture of Russian professors with those from here, with theater, with the phenomenon of the Revolution, in every sense. That existence Cuban actors have lived, far from glamor and stardom, with their feet firmly on the ground, has molded a very peculiar way of acting, first-rate, avant-garde."

—Of those great moments you've starred in (almost 70 films), which have given you the most satisfaction?

—First I'd mention the fact of having been able to link myself with Latin American cinema. My desire to be an actor grew as I attended as a spectator at the International Festival of New Latin American Cinema and "devoured" five films daily with anxiety. That's how I came to know actors and directors with whom later (who would have told me!?) I had the privilege of working... I feel honored to be part of the filmography of almost all the countries of Latin America where there is cinema. That has been a kind of dream come true.

"In Europe, fundamentally in Spanish cinema, there have been no shortage of great opportunities, being directed by filmmakers of the caliber of Bigas Luna, Manolo Gutiérrez Aragón... And all thanks to Strawberry and Chocolate."

The Director

—What motivated you to get behind the camera?

—It happened in a very organic way. One becomes involved with an industry, gains experience, meets people and begins to be part of it, not only as an actor, but sometimes as a project manager, as a producer...

"It happened that, after many years without acting here, suddenly Habana Abierta was returning to Cuba. I remember I was talking with them and telling them: 'Havana is crazy about you,' so finally when it happened, I felt 'obligated' to document that reunion. Icaic gave me the equipment and I asked Arturo to co-direct with me. That was the first time I got behind the camera.

"In the case of Affinities, Vlado (Vladimir Cruz) wrote to me: 'Pichi, I have a script, why don't we direct it?' And why not? We 'were born' together as actors hand in hand with Strawberry and Chocolate and we're united by great friendship. We got in the car and got to work. Something similar happened with Cucu Diamantes, who was going to embark on a tour of the entire Island. He spoke to me about a documentary, but I thought a film would be better, and Chronic Love came out, with which we also paid homage to Cuban cinema.

"From the beginning Fátima seemed to me an extraordinary character. First I read the story and then I heard it narrated by Miguel Barnet and decided to bring it to the cinema (Fátima or the Park of Fraternity). Like For Sale, a story they told me that impressed me equally."

—You are a member of the Spanish Film Academy and the Hollywood one, what does that responsibility consist of?

—Our task is to watch the selected films, the materials they send us, and then vote on the awards. We are a vote for the Goyas and the Oscars for best actor, director, film, etc. But it's also a kind of recognition that prestige us, although it puts us to work (smiles). These are experiences one doesn't dare even dream of.

—As far as I know, 2016 is the last year we saw you as a protagonist (Four Seasons in Havana). Why do we have to wait so long?

—One starts to get old, I don't know..., I'd say. But I can assure you I haven't stopped for a second. Besides Four Seasons in Havana, directed by Spaniard Félix Viscarret and based on Leonardo Padura's novels, I participated in a project in the Dominican Republic, a series. I also shot a feature film where I shared billing with that legend of Italian cinema named Franco Nero (Havana Kyrie), while whenever I can I support young filmmakers...

"But yes, there's a moment when a career has its peak… I remember that before I had to choose between 20 proposals from Latin America, Europe…, to decide which one I was going to do. By the way, I always prioritized Cuban cinema. I stopped shooting films that later became very successful, or declined invitations from directors of the caliber of Julio Menem, because it coincided with a call from Humberto or from Álex de la Iglesia, leaving aside The Day of the Beast, for example, another big hit, but Guantanamera was waiting for me. And I don't regret it!

"But those good 'runs' are diminishing, although something always appears to do that keeps us motivated, like now the second season of Four Seasons, with that exquisite literary character that is Mario Conde, or like those many projects conceived by very talented young people who need our help and use our names to get budgets or move them forward, which seems great to me."

From Gibara to San Isidro

—Someone who knows fame, how do you assume that 'film slump'?

—Without stopping working. I can refer to the San Isidro project, a neighborhood of such strength that we propose to convert into an art district, where there won't be a lack of possibilities for neighbors, especially young people, to participate in workshops on music appreciation, architecture, photography..., or enjoy concerts, exhibitions... The Gibara International Film Festival is also there, which absorbs me… I'm writing projects I want to undertake as director and producer... I'm always reinventing myself.

"Even though you don't see me on the big screen, that doesn't mean I stay home depressed, waiting for someone to call me (smiles). No, I am 'fighting,' involved in actions that give me as much satisfaction as shooting a movie, that make me very happy.

"I came to San Isidro looking for a space for a gallery, but when I found it (it's called Gorría Workshop Gallery), I didn't want to use it just for myself, but to inspire a collective work, that would benefit other artists, and especially the community. We started inventing there and inviting established and emerging artists to exhibit with me. I already brought the experience of Humberto in Gibara and what I was doing myself; I was already aware of how a cultural project can transform for the better.

"Next to buildings of high architectural value, other spaces coexist in San Isidro such as warehouses, shipping containers, buildings of old industries... And we've used these latter ones to develop a graffiti movement. Historian Eusebio Leal has given us a space where the Titón Foundation will be born, and we want to open more galleries, organize more concerts, theatrical performances..."

—It struck many as odd that you'd get involved in the Gibara 'thing,' an even more ambitious project...

—Because I understood what Humberto had done; what the result of his work meant for the people of Gibara, for Cubans. When the people of Gibara sent for me because they were losing their Festival, I couldn't allow something like that to happen. It had to be lifted up however we could, recover Solás's dream and take it to its fullest expression.

"I was present at the conceptual birth of that project, which began to take shape during the shooting of Honey for Oshún. That town had stopped in time. The architecture and the people were wonderful, but it wasn't enough. We were in Holguín and we traveled daily to shoot, because in that beautiful land there was nothing.

"We cannot forget that we're talking about the first Cuban digital film. After having given us great films, true classics, Solás had become 'obsessed' with low-budget cinema: a minimal crew crammed in a bus moving from Havana to the east. Amazed by that experience, he thought of organizing a festival to encourage young people to follow in his footsteps. Times were hard, but we couldn't stop telling stories. I remember perfectly those long conversations, his wise reflections. He was a visionary.

"It's in Gibara where they say Columbus arrived, but the sons of that land like to emphasize that later Humberto arrived. He rediscovered them, put them back on the world map. From its beginnings the Festival had this same interactive concept, we've tried to boost it further, so it continues to change economically and socially the White Villa of the Crabs.

"We want it to establish itself as the place where young people from Holguín, Santiago, Camagüey, Las Tunas... can enjoy the best cinema, the most powerful theater, the main exponents of Cuban music, the works of the main plastic artists... The Festival has established itself as a determining project for the eastern region, so geographically far from the capital. Hopefully together we can recover that theater, which is a jewel, and so needed by the territory, and that Gibara can remain alive beyond the days of the event. We artists won't stop dreaming, supporting, pushing, contributing."

—Four children... all artists!

—Of the four, three graduated as musicians: Anthuan, the eldest, studied percussion and directs the Nube roja group. He and Lázaro Peña Rodríguez "Lachi," who also composes, are the leaders of the band where Adán, in charge of the San Isidro project, plays keyboards. He's supported by Amén, the youngest, who finished studying guitar. Andros was the only one who followed in my footsteps. On several occasions we've shared the set, the first at Tabío's request (The Horn of Plenty). El Chino Chiong has us in a series and Carlos Lechuga is preparing a script that will apparently bring us together again. In Franco Nero's film we coincided, but he 'betrayed' me: he changed fathers (smiles).

—You could have lived wherever you chose, but you always decided to stay here...

—Man, there was a time when they constantly asked me that question and I would answer that I had found in Cuba what many of my countrymen went out looking for elsewhere: to make a living from my work.

"And although over time that reality hasn't changed, moving forward now with projects like San Isidro or the Gibara Festival has created other powerful reasons: to create conditions and give tools to young people so they can run the same race I did: so they can find in Cuba the opportunity to realize their dreams and not have to pursue them elsewhere, far from their families, from the people they love, from their land, from their roots."