After viewing Que Viva Mexico!, or after reading some general information about the film, one might wonder why Sergei Eisenstein, a renowned Russian filmmaker, would make a film about Mexico. Why would this filmmaker, who is known for his epic socialist realist films, travel to a remote country with a very unique style of art, and create a somewhat surrealist ethnographic film about such nation? After viewing the film and some extensive reading on the subject, one can understand Eisenstein’s goals and intentions concerning this film. Through his gradual exposure to Mexican culture and art, Eisenstein creates his most personal film which depicts themes of life and death in a style representative of the country’s art, history, and culture.
Up until 1926, Eisenstein’s imaginary Mexico was formulated from “incidental impressions and random facts from history, politics, literature, and from photographs and prints he saw by chance” rather than from direct contact with Mexicans or their culture. In 1926 however, he met Diego Rivera in Moscow, a famous and respected Mexican painter. In their first meeting, Rivera “spoke obsessively of the Mexican artistic heritage, of the ancient Aztec capital Tenochtitlan, of the pyramids, temples, and palaces of the Aztecs and the Mayans, and of their sculpture and painting.” Eisenstein would later write, “The seed of interest in that country…nourished by the stories of Diego Rivera grew into a burning desire to travel there."
To Eisenstein’s good fortune, he was able to visit Mexico four years later.
Que Viva Mexico could probably be best described as an artistic ethnographic documentary about Mexico, its people, and their traditions of life and death. He recorded many events such as a wedding, a funeral, a bullfight and others, but certain themes unique to the Mexican culture resulted from his style of filming.
The Prologue has a static quality, at times resembling a photo collage. With this motionless style, Eisenstein brings to attention the perceived suspension of time since the people of the present are juxtaposed with the stone statues created by their ancestors centuries ago. With these images, Eisenstein emphasizes his own words in the film’s libretto, “the past prevailing over the present.” It becomes “a realm where history cannot exist because there is no change; no history but rather permanent prehistory hovering over the present.” The film then focuses on a funeral. At first all are static, both men and women, next to a dead man. There are close-up shots of their heads on the coffin, arranged in a certain way which resembles the stone gods. Then the men begin to carry the coffin on their shoulders while the women remain static. This sequence ends with a similarly static shot of a statue of the god of destruction, thus at the very start of the film, women are associated with death, both through an identical construction of shots with those of the deathly gods, and by the framing of the funeral scene.
Unlike the static and death-themed “Prologue,” “Sandunga” is full of movements thus representing the theme of life. Additionally, the setting positions the “primitive” indigenous culture as a point of origin, representing the indigenous culture of Tehuantepec as a kind of Utopic origin of the nation. It is there that Diego Rivera was sent “to get in touch with his roots” and instill in him a sense of national pride after being abroad in France. It is then logical for Eisenstein to shoot a section of his film about life in this setting. The shots in “Sandunga” meant to give an impression of natural life taking place before the camera. Not only are the women themselves constantly moving—changing their facial expressions, fidgeting, fixing their hair, peeling bananas—but the background is full of life and constantly changes as well. The thematic contrast of life and death is also emphasized as the “Prologue” focuses on a funeral, while “Sandunga” culminates in a wedding ceremony and the subsequent birth of the protagonists’ son further accentuating the symbolism of Tehuantepec as the birthplace of Mexican civilization. Additionally, the matriarchal social organization shown in “Sandunga” reverses the patriarchal social norms of the “natural” position of women. “Eisenstein explores the image of the return to the womb as the prototype of all artistic creation." There is also a representation of paradise as a peaceful coexistence between humans and animals, including crocodiles, panthers, iguanas, monkeys, and exotic birds. This paradisiacal presentation, the idea of rebirth, and the main protagonist’s name—Concepción—emphasizes the primitive (and hence pagan) life as constructed through an overtly Christian framework, thus making a smooth transition to the next episode “La Fiesta,” which is centered on Spanish religious and cultural practices injected with pagan tradition.
“Fiesta” is set in the times of Porfirio Diaz’ dictatorship as the Catholic religion is still intertwined with pagan traditions even after centuries of Spanish dominion. “This episode helps to illustrate the permanence of the indigenous culture and rituals behind the Spanish colonial ceremonies and customs, both of which are marked by a baroque excess." This baroque style can be seen in the architecture, which is most seen in the initial sequence of “Fiesta,” and in the clothing of the heroic participants of the corridas or bullfights as well as in the dresses of their lady admirers; the tall Spanish combs, and their elaborate fans. Eisenstein’s capture of baroque design, which consists of excessive ornamentation and complexity of line, in turn helps to portray the excessive religious expression in rituals understood to have sadist/masochist themes as well as cruelty and religious ecstasy. A visual motif which also serves as a link between these themes is “that of punctures: the picador in the bullfight sequence, the self-inflicted wounds of the Christ imitators." This motif is also seen in the following episode of “Maguey” during the puncturing of the maguey plants. Unlike “Sandunga” where the feminine figure was “the center of spectacle,” in “Fiesta” it is the men who take center stage. “The overabundance of visual detail, the artificiality and theatricality of the settings and the figures in ‘Fiesta’ replace the emphasis seen in ‘Sandunga’ on the natural splendor.” The feminine natural indigenous culture becomes the background, while the focus changes to the male figures in Spanish baroque settings. Eisenstein was most impressed with the bullfights he witnessed while in Mexico. A suggested reason for this fascination was due to the unique combination of elements that interested Eisenstein at the time: “ecstatic experiences, a proximity to death, homoerotic elements of the spectacle, decorative excess, and the tension between the artificiality of the spectacle and its centrality in the forces of nature, represented by the bull."
Of all the episodes, “Maguey” is the one which has the most traditional narrative structure. It begins with peons singing a mournful song before going to harvest the maguey juice from the plants to make pulque. Afterwards, a peon by the name of Sebastian, goes to present his fiancée, Maria, to the owner, as custom requires. This eventually leads to her rape by one of the owner’s drunken guests. Informed by a fellow peon, Sebastian and others plot for revenge during which they will rescue Maria. Their plan fails and they are pursued by the owner, his friends, and his daughter, who is excited by the events and the opportunity to shoot. She is eventually shot to death and the peons are captured. As execution, they are buried up to their chests in the ground and are subsequently trampled to death by the men on their horses. Like the previous episode, “Maguey” is set in the pre-Mexican Revolutionary times of Porfirio Diaz. This episode has a stronger socialist style similar to those in Eisenstein's previous films Strike and The Battleship Potemkin. He portrays the struggle of the oppressed peons in relation to the wealthy and cruel hacendados or plantation owners. There are many times when the scene cuts to the portrait of Porfirio Diaz, reminding the audience of the struggle of pre-Revolutionary times. The last shots of the episode are close-ups of peons’ eyes that demonstrate the increasing rancor which eventually resulted in the revolution. The oppression and eventual death depicted in “Maguey” is symbolic of the people’s spiritual death as a result of being stripped of humanity by their oppressors.
“Soldadera” was meant to be an episode demonstrating the struggle of the Revolution specifically aided by the soldaderas who were wives of the soldiers.
Sergei’s sensitive appreciation of the interrelationships of Mexican art, history, and ritual would find a focus and a frame of reference in Anita Brenner’s book, Idols Behind Altars. The book offers enlightenment on a more obscure subject found in Mexican culture. She observed: “This familiarity with death is shocking to the European. But where death is so much at home as in Mexico, he is no longer a dreaded and a flattered guest…” In Mexican art, death is mocked. It is conceived as a clown, a circus figure; but this conception is also of an image intended as a “control.” Eisenstein’s use of this image can be seen towards the end of his film as he makes a respectful mockery of death in the “Epilogue” as he captures the celebrations of Day of the Dead. The initial shots show the mourning and remembrance of passed loved ones as the people eat in the graveyards, next to the tombstones. It then transitions to a lively celebration with dance, music, and costumes of death and it is here that death is mocked. The narrator comments as the celebratory dancing and lively music is seen and heard: “A skull under a minister’s top hat, a fireman’s helmet, a policeman’s cap, a general’s cocked hat. Not a cult of death this, not the stillness of stone and the awesomeness of stone idols, but man’s triumph over death through mockery of it.” The dancing stops, and the music becomes somber. The shots become static as it depicts non-moving human figures with masks. The only movement is the removal of the masks which uncovers real skeletons, dressed in aristocratic attire, as the narrator comments: “Not sham skulls now but real ones. The corpses of a doomed class.” The episode, and thus the film, ends with the unmasking of a young boy and the poignant words: “Whom will we see behind this mask? A soldadera’s son? One of those whose hands are destined to forge a truly free Mexico?" This “Epilogue” finely wraps up the theme of life and death’s cyclic association as found in Mexican tradition.
For the first time in his creative life, Eisenstein worked with images free from any social, political, or religious conflicts, and he enjoyed it. Que Viva Mexico! was Eisenstein’s most personal film as it dealt with topics and styles that were “suppressed” in the Soviet Union since it had adopted a socialist realism whereas Mexican art and culture was a more expressive and surrealist style. As previously mentioned, Eisenstein was forced to return without completing the film. Upton Sinclair, who was funding the project, promised to send the negative and work-print of the film, but the promise was not kept. Instead several short films were released as Sinclair sold footage to filmmakers who butchered the footage, taking it out of its intended thematic context. It was later acquired by an American museum and decades later, it would be sent to Russia and be assembled by Eisenstein’s assistant, Grigori Alexandrov, based on their discussed goals for the project and by using Sergei’s notes. It is considered by some to be “his greatest film plan and his greatest personal tragedy." However, through careful study of the film’s composition and style, and through some extensive reading on the subject, one can oversee this cinematic tragedy and comprehend the intended themes which Sergei Eisenstein desired to express of life and death through Mexican art, culture, and history.
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