December 2, 2004

Motorcycle Diaries: The Road Not Taken

"The Motorcycle Diaries" (Focus Films, 2 hours 6 minutes, Spanish with English subtitles. Released just in time for Oscar consideration..)

"Life is just school, vacation, school, vacation, and then it's work, work, work till you die." -- C. S. Lewis.

Somewhere between school and work, American students often take one last unfettered vacation, comprising several weeks of backpacking through Europe, sleeping in youth hostels, eating little, and experiencing much, before returning to their middle class roots and fulltime careers. In the summer of 1952, Ernesto Guevara de la Serna (Gael Garcia Bernal), a young Argentine medical student, set off on a similar adventure around South America with his friend, biochemist Alberto Granado (Rodrigo de la Serna), before the two were scheduled to begin their duties as doctor and pharmacist in a leper colony in Peru. "The Motorcycle Diaries" is a recreation of that journey, based on the diaries and letters the two wrote during the trip.

Although the story is rather slow moving, as a road trip, it's a fine
piece. The filming is deliberately amateurish, almost like a home movie at times, reflecting the ramshackle nature of their trip: no money, no food, and before long, no bike. Dusty villages and dustier townspeople are portrayed with a straightforward honesty, particularly in the Peruvian leper colony where the two find work. The most majestic part of the film's travelogue is their arrival in Machu Picchu, where they lounge within the walls of the fabled city virtually alone, their reward for the lung-wrenching mountain climb. This is a road trip at its finest.

Ultimately, of course, this is not a film about a summer vacation, but
about the birth of a revolutionary. Loading their motorcycle (dubbed with the hopeful but woefully inaccurate moniker, "The Mighty One") like a pack mule, Ernesto and Alberto set out on a journey toward manhood and enlightenment. The motorcycle crashes frequently, spilling their possessions along the road until they finally have only the goods they can carry on their backs. This seems to symbolize Ernesto's divesting himself of his middle class goals and values and even his mother's name; by the end of the journey, he has become simply "Che" Guevara (a name teasingly applied to him by a Chilean girl making fun of their Argentine accents). Moved by the poverty and injustice he observes throughout South America, (and perhaps motivated even more by his upperclass girlfriend's rejection), he leaves the leper colony to fight for a "United America," eventually becoming a leader of the revolutions in Cuba and Bolivia, where he would be assassinated "with the approval of the CIA."

Every screening at the theater I attended was sold out opening weekend, even in the early afternoon. The closing credits were greeted with cathartic applause for Che's heroic martyrdom in bringing justice to Latin America. Ironically, this applause came from upscale Manhattanites--the sort of people Che fought to overthrow. Perhaps their enthusiasm came from the fact that we only saw the embryonic Che-the compassionate young doctor removing his rubber gloves to show the lepers he was their equal; the faithful young lover jilted by his wealthy girlfriend; the kind young man who gives his only dollars to a poor communist family. But I was nonplused by the applause. Is it any more "just" to wrest lands and homes from the wealthy than it is to take them from the poor? Let's compare the beauty and vibrancy of pre-Che Havana with the poverty and erosion of modern Havana to judge the effectiveness of Che's revolution. As Winston Churchill once said, "The inherent vice of capitalism is the unequal sharing of blessings; the inherent virtue of socialism is the equal sharing of miseries." I'll take the injustice of capitalism over the justice of socialism any time, knowing that I have the opportunity to increase my share of the blessings by my own work and innovation. I will never favor bringing someone down to my level, just to keep us equal.

Nevertheless, "The Motorcycle Diaries" is a movie worth seeing, if only to view the mystical peak of Machu Picchu rising above the grandeur of Quechua's ruined city, before cruise ship tourism made the fabled mountain hideaway as accessible as a theme park. Che's politics are kept to a merciful minimum; we observe the elitist snobbery of his girlfriend's family and the desperate plight of the poor displaced workers, but it is through the young and innocent eyes of an idealist awakened to the problem, before he has set upon his brutal solutions. It is also an opportunity to muse on how many lives might be different today if Che Guevara had decided to remain in Peru, quietly and humbly caring for the lepers he was trained to heal, instead of leading a murderous revolution in foreign lands.

Reflection

It's election time, and the sidewalks around Columbus Circle, Times
Square, and Lincoln Center are teeming with fresh-faced young college students earnestly urging pedestrians to support their efforts to defeat George Bush. Knowing how discouraging it is to be ignored when one is full of missionary zeal, I always stop to talk with them. "Tell me more," I urge. "Why should I vote for Kerry?" Inevitably they respond, "Because we have to defeat Bush." I nod my head in agreement and say, "Yes, I know, I'm not very happy with Bush either, but tell me, what do you like about Kerry?" The response is always the same: a blank look of utter befuddlement, followed by, "Because he isn't Bush."

In two months of asking this simple question, "What do you like about Kerry?" I have not received a single reason why supporters support him. They don't know anything he has done or anything that he plans to do. They just know that he isn't Bush, and that's good enough for them.

Well, Michael Jackson isn't George Bush either, but that's not a good enough reason to elect the little pervert. Yet I have to admit that this may be my precise argument four years from now, when I will be urging all of my friends and acquaintances, "Anyone but Hillary." I will be as anxious and earnest as these young college kids. But how will I answer when they ask me about the alternative?

That's why it is essential that Libertarians, Republicans, and anyone else whose mantra is "Anyone but Hillary" begin looking now for a candidate they can fully support, one who is articulate, principled, and available. As for this year's Libertarian choice: Michael Badnarik may be articulate, but who would know? Since his nomination in May, Badnarik has been virtually out of sight. I haven't seen or heard any media ads, nor has he pushed for news interviews. I received one fundraising letter in June and responded by email, asking to be kept informed of his campaign and appearances. Shouldn't that have put me on some kind of email list? But I haven't received any electronic information or requests for help. I went to a meeting here in New York where he was supposed to speak, a great opportunity to share his philosophy with a group of high-powered political types. But he cancelled at the last minute when he missed his flight. How's that for planning ahead? More importantly, what can you say about the principles of a person who "as a matter of principle" has never filed a tax return or applied for a driver's license, and then suddenly agrees to do both, just to enhance his credibility? I don't happen to agree with his former stance (it violates my principle of keeping a low-profile) but I really object to how quickly he was willing to abandon those principles when they became inconvenient.

If we want to defeat Hillary-and we must-we have to present a viable, articulate, principled, intelligent, alternative. The hunt is on.

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