The pleasure of the film is in the noble vistas of the kind Social Realist (aka Marxist) directors so excel at creating. It is horribly marred, however, by an absolutely puerile view of Mexican society and history. Not only are both viewed from a naive Marxist perspective, but the original material being twisted to fit a Marxist perspective is already twisted by Eisenstein's foolish inventions. His fascination with his own surreal idea of Mexican countrywomen walking around without shirts betrays a leering attitude toward women and an almost unbelievably patronizing attitude toward Mexico, which becomes a sort of south Pacific paradise of sexually liberated and smiling honeys. The purely pagan wedding ceremony in Indian dress including feathers belongs to the Hollywood genre of Shangri-la. The sequence in the maguey plantation is visually very interesting, but the narrative is about as unreal and stupid as was ever seen on film. This film is to be recommended only for its visuals, and even this will be enjoyed by very tolerant viewers.
Review of Que Viva Mexico
