The 46th edition of Havana's International Festival of New Latin American Cinema opened this Thursday amid energy shortages and nostalgia for its glorious past. Featuring over 200 works from 42 countries, the event grapples with massive blackouts and a tarnished reputation. The lack of major premieres and ongoing censorship cast shadows over the celebration.
Havana's International Festival of New Latin American Cinema, in its 46th edition, runs from this Thursday through Sunday the 14th. Once a hallmark of prestigious premieres that propelled continental cinema, it now endures amid blackouts and structural constraints. A massive power outage on Wednesday plunged the western half of the country into darkness, underscoring the precarious electricity supply that endangers screenings.
The lineup features over 200 works from 42 countries, highlighting internationally acclaimed Latin American productions and European-Latin American co-productions. Yet many films have already screened at festivals like Berlin, Cannes, or San Sebastián before reaching Havana, where cultural infrastructure teeters on collapse. In Cuban entries, the fiction feature Neurótica anónima, directed by Jorge Perugorría and Mirta Ibarra, explores contemporary urban and emotional themes, while the documentary Tiempo detenido by Ariagna Fajardo delves into the nation's stagnant life with minimal resources.
Notable short fiction films include Pupa by Leandro de la Rosa, Norheimsund by Ana Alpízar, and Primera enseñanza by Aria Sanchez and Brazilian director Marina Meira, who won Best Director for shorts at the Doha Film Festival. Last year, several screenings were canceled due to power failures, including two showings of Matar a un hombre by Orlando Mora Cabrera, which the director called a veiled form of censorship.
A contentious issue is the exclusion of the documentary Para vivir. El implacable tiempo de Pablo Milanés by Fabien Pisani, which traces the troubadour's life from his Nueva Trova roots to his critical stance against authority. Its omission from the official program bolsters censorship allegations, given Milanés's political discomfort. Public attendance has waned owing to deteriorating cinemas, sporadic censorship, epidemics, transport shortages, and inflation, turning a former celebration into a daily struggle. Still, filmmakers and audiences endure, seeking solace on screen.