The Films & Novels (to date) of Jonathan Jakubowicz

I was pleased to have recently met Venezuelan director and novelist Jonathan Jakubowicz at a function in Los Angeles. I also met his wife, Claudine, who produces her Jonathan's projects. I spoke to Claudine in some depth and she graciously provided me with advice on how I might continue to build my "What's Up, Gringo?!" to the level of production I believe the script and vision merit. The projects she's created with Jonathan are bigger than anything I've worked on thus far in terms of budgets and the Hollywood A-listers they've worked with.

Afterwards, I spoke with Jonathan. I didn't know who he was nor his body of work before that day, but at this function, his accomplishments as a director and writer were being publicly discussed and impressed me, so I thought I would subsequently approach him to converse. The conversation was brief but I came away with an overall positive feeling, something I have not felt about all the directors I have met in Los Angeles in the year and a few months I've lived here, so I concluded by telling him I would check out his works. And I'm glad I did! They've entertained me and stimulated thought. Here are some of those thoughts below.

Hands of Stone (2016)

I began with Hands of Stone, the movie that had the most recognizable star Jakubowicz has collaborated with and whose performances I often enjoy, Robert De Niro. The movie tells the real life story of Roberto Durán, widely considered the greatest lightweight boxer of all time and who was the first lightweight to become a middleweight world champion when he returned to boxing later in his career and life. Durán is brilliantly interpreted by Edgar Ramirez who brought to life this dynamic character that's portrayed to be an aggressive, passionate, life-of-the-party showman on the one hand, but on the other, an extremely humble patriot and servant to his people who's fought tooth and nail for everything he has, never forgetting his impoverished upbringing in Panama.

This difficult upbringing kind of allegorically portrays the some of the greater misdoings of America's involvement in Panama and Latin America in the second half of the 20th century, as Durán is shown to have grown up by a poor, young mother who struggles to provide for him and his younger siblings after Durán's father, an American soldier stationed at the one of the Canal's American forts in the country, completely abandones the family upon completing his military mission. From a young age, Durán is forced to get tough to protect and provide for his family. He also grows up harboring a strong resentment towards America and "the Gringos."

When Durán's boxing talent catches the eye of then retired trainer Ray Arcel (De Niro), Arcel taps into this resentment and instills Durán with a greater motivation to fight and discipline himself. He reframes Durán's and Panama's relationship with the American occupation there, rejecting Durán's notion that Panama is an impoverished victim being jailed by the Americans (who live under better conditions in their guarded fort). Instead, he imbues Durán with nationalistic pride and the belief that the Americans are actually the prisoners of Panama, forced to live behind the walls of their fort which they must constantly protect with rifles. The scene in which this transformation takes place occurs amidst training, when Arcel rides his mobile scooter alongside the jogging Durán and the two take a rest in front of the fort's gates. (By the way, the set of this scene is impressive and the colors and cinematography as a whole of the Panama scenes really accentuate the tropical beauty.) Durán initially dismisses the passionate old trainer's remarks of psychology and mindset. At his core, Durán still probably identifies Arcel as one of the Gringos he shouldn't trust. This changes a bit when Arcel gets into a spat with the fort guard and in a comical moment, the senior tells him off, "I'm from Harlem, USA. You know where that is?!" Durán then listens and absorbs a great line from Arcel regarding reframing conflicts in life that seem insurmountable:

A few scenes later, this beautiful line is echoed by Durán himself during the movie's love story and Durán's efforts to court the sophisticated and well-off young lady, Felicidad Iglesias (Ana de Armas). These efforts seem fruitless at first. Despite the fact that she's intrigued by Durán's celebrity and the respect his boxing career has already earned him up to that point within Panama (though he still is yet to earn a shot to become world champ), Iglesias believes that Roberto is too uneducated, too "from the gutter" as Scarface might put it. She tells him, "Somos de mundos muy diferentes" (We're from very different worlds), to which Roberto replies with Arcel's line, undressing her mentally and peeling away her preconceptions... "It's all in the head."

The rest of the movie features more interesting subplots around Durán and his rise to become world champion; followed by his fall and his decision to walk away from fighting challenger Sugar Ray Leonard (played exceptionally by singer Usher, a spitting image of Sugar Ray); and his resurgence as a world champ at a new weight class as he fights to win back his Felicidad (pun intended) and the pride of Panama. We also gain significant perspective into Arcel's conflicts of balancing career and family as he seeks to realize his ambitions within boxing while managing the organized crime forces that seek to manipulate him to consolidate power and profits within the industry. The boxing industry itself takes a big beating in the movie for this reason, and we really feel for Durán when big business powers in Panama attempt to assert control over him, forcing him to fight when he seeks to relax and prioritize family. Hands of Stone has plenty to offer in terms of plot and its carried by exceptional acting and beautiful cinematography and sets.

Secuestro Express (2004)

Switching gears! Well after enjoying Hands of Stone and deciding this was a talented director, I said: Okay, let's dive in now chronologically to consume the rest of this artist's body of work, starting from the beginning when perhaps he wasn't able to command budgets nor Hollywood stars as big. I was excited to watch Secuestro Express (2004), as I've not seen much cinema from the country of Venezuela. The movie is a crazy, violent, and unsettling ride. It captures the anxiety and violence of crime in Caracas as we follow three kidnappers and the well-off young couple they sequester. The cuts and sounds of the movie are hardcore and grimy, forcing the viewer to feel the pain of the victims and the frustration of the criminals who are very much humanized. Secuestro Express stirred up significant controversy upon its release. Some government officials from Venezuela expressed disdain for the picture and its unpleasant portrayal of Venezuelan society. Upon learning this, I thought of another ultra-violent and hard to watch Latin movie from the early aughts that upset many, Colombia's La virgen de los sicarios (2000), which I recently watched before meeting actor Anderson Ballesteros. (Anderson broke out as an actor with this movie, portraying a homosexual hired gun in Medellín). Further Wikipedia research revealed to me that Jakubowicz wrote Secuestro Express after having been kidnapped himself, and I imagine he desired to use his film to share some of his own trauma that experience surely caused as well as to call attention to crime in the country, in general. This must have struck a cord with Venezuelans at the time; or perhaps they wished to see for themselves why the movie had generated so much public controversy; or perhaps they were curious to see the first movie their country had produced that was distributed by a Hollywood studio (Miramax); or maybe it was a combination of all three, but many went to see the movie and it became the second biggest box office seller of all time in Venezuela.

I found interesting the interplay of the three kidnappers in the movie: Budu, Trece, and Niga, and I believe a Freudian lens could be used to better understand these three criminals. Budu might be identified as the group's the "id." He's a bulldog driven by passion not principles. He's a loving father to his young daughter, though at the same time a hotheaded rapist to the abductees, and he introduces unnecessary risk to abductions when he makes the crime sexual. Trece on the other hand might be Freud's "superego," the idealist. His on-screen name card introduces us to him as "Romantic" and "Middle Class." Regarding the latter, I wonder then why he is kidnapping. Surely his family can secure him a stable job he should be working instead of the high risk work of express kidnapping (the method of abduction where a small immediate ransom is demanded, often by the victim being forced to withdraw money from their ATM account) which jars this character, the most fragile of the criminals. Is Trece too romantic and absentminded to maintain a steady job and follow a schedule? Does the unpredictability and craziness of the Underworld allow him the space and freedom to express himself whereas a middle-class job, at an office for example, would not? His yin to Budu's yang is dynamic, as Trece's idealism sees him save victims from Budu's advances; this may be prudent so as to spare the kidnappers from implicating themselves further in a sex crime, but by the same token, the Trece-Budu infighting leaves them vulnerable and allows the victim to play one off of the other to create potential opportunities to escape. Perhaps Trece would do better instead to ensure against that latter possibility by being more like Niga, the group's "ego." Niga is an ex-con who seems more experienced and tends to go with the flow more often. He's described as a "killer" and does in fact step up to do that dirty work when needed during the job. Niga doesn't really try to control Budu nor deter him from his carnal desires; he also talks on the phone with Budu's daughter, who he is a sort of Uncle towards, in order to keep Budu happy. Niga is a professional who seeks to placate and keep it moving... A lot too can be discussed about the rich couple that gets kidnapped, though I'll only just touch on a few things. The young man is shown to be a closeted homosexual (or at least bisexual) who is publicly anti-gay and in a fraudulent relationship with his female partner. Interestingly enough, the poorer kidnappers seem somewhat more accepting of homosexuality than the rich male abductee; they maintain a relationship with the Colombian character in the movie, a very outright homosexual, who aids them during the kidnapping; this is despite the fact that they use marico in their lexicon so often to mean "bro" or "dude;" do they maintain a friendship with the Colombian for authentic reasons or is it simply out of desperation that they are forced to work with and be nice to this gay man? It's interesting to think about. Also interesting is the perplexing idealism of the rich girl, who dedicates her life to social work and helping those most desperate, those just like her kidnappers. Her experience is the most traumatic throughout the kidnapping, which makes it even more noble perhaps that her character decides to return to that work at the film's conclusion. The movie is chock full of messaging. Secuestro Express is a wild and perturbing ride. Thus, I was pleased to learn that the next film from Jakubowicz was one more about hope, heroism and courage.

Resistance (2020)

Resistance is a true Holocaust story about French mime Marcel Marceau who became a hero during the early days of the French Resistance of WWII to the Nazi occupation of the country. In the movie, Marceau (interpreted by Jesse Eisenberg), first uses his art and comedy to entertain refugee Jewish orphans whose parents the Nazis have killed; he then evolves and assumes a more assertive role in the resistance by helping save hundreds of Jewish children via dozens of risky crossings from through the Alps into neutral Switzerland, where the children can avoid being hunted down by Gestapo forces. At the movie's conclusion in 1945, the Americans have entered the war and American General Patton honors Marceau for his heroism; Marceau now works as a Liaison Officer for the Allies and as an entertainer for the troops. I really enjoyed this movie. Two of its themes in particular inspired me. First, the idea that art can be redemptive and uplifting, both for the artist and the audience. At the movie's inception, we bond closely with the Jewish child Elsbeth (Bella Ramsey) and share in her horror when Nazi Brown Shirts hunt and kill her parents before her own eyes in Munich. This tragedy is also experienced by more than a hundred other German Jewish children who are then sent to France, farther away from the Nazis whose Holocaust efforts are growing more concerted, personified by the introduction of the ruthless Gestapo agent Klaus Barbie (Matthias Schweighöfer). There are other early developments such as our introduction to Marceau as a starving artist and his comedic interactions with his father, a butcher, who who staunchly opposes his career and swears that because of it he'll never win a woman. Nevertheless, I felt the depression of Elsbeth and these other Jewish children to be the dominating sentiment throughout the early part of the movie. This depression didn't leave me until it left the children. And it was Marcel and his miming art that made that possible. While in hiding at a castle in France, the refugee orphan children are naturally down. Marcel nobly recognizes the castle as a stage wherein his art can be appreciated and curative, in fact, for the children, his audience. The other adults present are also taken by Marceau's antics and his performances raise the whole camp's spirits enough for them to handle their business, which includes emergency preparations for how to hide and escape in case of a Nazi raids; these preparations prove to be of vital importance later on. Art gets the camp through their depression and restores their spirits to so they can carry on. Of course, Marceau is the most artistic in the camp and thus he shines as the performer, but I also like the idea that there is an artist within all of us that we ought to respect and let out from time to time. This is demonstrated by Marcel's father, the butcher. When the Nazis drive the Marceaus from their home, the Father is displaced in France and without his profession. We share in Marcel's surprise when he stumbles into a late-night room and sees his own father singing before a crowd. Afterwards, the father reveals to his son that he once sang more often and loved it but left it to pursue something more practical. He admits he has rediscovered the passion and apologizes to his son for scolding his choice to pursue artistry. If there is any silver lining to the Nazis driving the Marceau family from their home, it's this epiphany from the father that life is precarious and creating art can be a worthwhile endeavor for those who are inspired to do it. The second theme I enjoyed is the idea that any of us, all of us, can answer the call of duty and become fighters, resisters, when needed. Marcel Marceau transforms in this respect during the story. At the start, he's somewhat of a boyish, self-consumed artist in my eyes. He seems a little incapable and uninterested in caring for others. However, this couldn't be farther from the truth towards the end. When wartime arrives, he fills the shoes of a leader, and he gets violent when he needs to in order to defend. He commands, he protects, and he becomes the man his community needs in order to care for his woman (the one his father once told him he would not get) and the scores of Jewish refugee children that the couple fosters towards safety. Look out for one scene in which Marceau's brother is taken by Nazi forces and a fire is lit within this artist's heart to fight. I expected this delicate artist to cower in that moment and let the Nazis take his brother. A common criticism of artists is that they can be too pacifistic, that they choose artistry because they may be running from the fight of "real jobs." This may ring true in some cases, but Marceau shows the opposite, and he fights brilliantly in this scene to save his brother. For the second half of the movie, he's generally a badass that answers the call of duty to protect his people time and time again. It's interesting to think about who amongst us will best stand, fight, and lead, if ever needed. I don't think the answer is always obvious at first. This thought reminds me of another recent film I enjoyed, The Deer Hunter (1978). That Vietnam War film showed how three different men in a Pennsylvania community responded differently to that fight when they chose to serve. Two of them crack up and lose their minds, while it's the quietest and most socially aloof of them, played by De Niro, who becomes the leader during the war and afterwards, continuing to fight to maintain the sanity of the other two as well as of his community, in general. The American fight in Vietnam might have been less morally defensible than Marceau's fight within the greater French Resistance to the Nazis, however I seek to connect the two and these films only in this sense that it's not always obvious who will be the strongest in wartime, who will lead, who we will turn to. In the case of Britain during WWII, I have heard that Churchill was a bit of a social pariah in the prewar years, far from a popular, admired leader. However, it was that man that the nation turned to in their darkest hour to provide the hope needed to beat back the German Blitzkrieg and their seemingly unstoppable military advance. Anyways, Resistance is a great story about a great man. After finishing this movie, the most recent feature Jakubowicz has directed, I went on to consume his books to date, two Spanish language novels about the adventures of the fictional Venezuelan character, Juan Planchard...

"Las aventuras de Juan Planchard" (2016) and "La venganza de Juan Planchard" (2020)

These novels are stimulating and spicy. They center on Juan Planchard, a fictional Venezuelan socialite whose status has risen with the country's socialist revolution in the book by being part of an inside political circle that has extracted wealth from the rest of the country. Juan is a character full of contradictions and the book is almost exclusively narrated from this flawed character's point of view. On the one hand, he acknowledges the plight of those common Venezuelans left behind in the revolution. On the other hand, he's a despicable elitist who doesn't seem to truly love those people nor Venezuelan culture, in general (yet he'll often defend it mightily, if only to himself, when in rooms with Russians, Middle Easterners, or other foreigners who challenge his nation's honor). Juan is juxtaposed against his father, a prideful Venezuelan who detests his son's selfishness and feels he has sold out his own people. But to Juan, his father is a foolish idealist who doesn't understand the changing tides of power nor how or why one should ride them to his own success. Nevertheless, Juan harbors strong Latin family values and yearns greatly for his father's amor. Most of the first book tracks Juan through his adventures in high society in the worlds of Venezuela and Cuba as well as in "El imperio" (the Empire), as he calls it, meaning the United States and its allies. Throughout the first book, Juan primarily maintains a staunch Latin socialist revolutionary fervor, idolizing Ché Guevara (see the book's cover image below), and he praises any movement or symbol against El imperio and "los Gringos" who he feels have stripped countries like his own of their dignity and economic sovereignty. He does this while maintaining a comfortable distance from actual normal Venezuelans and Cubans living in impoverished conditions; instead, he gallivants around the world from elegant fiestas in Caracas, paradisiacal getaways in Havana, diversion in Miami, orgies in Las Vegas, "interesting" sight-seeing in New York City, and hobnobbing with celebrities in Hollywood.

Such is the exciting life of Juan Planchard until it gets turned upside down when he meets a young Californian beauty, the incomparable Scarlet. I didn't actually read the first of these two novels but rather listened to it on audiobook, and I must say that narrator Antonio Delli's accentuations are hilarious in the scene in which he narrates Juan's immediate infatuation with Scarlet and his desire to have her, take care of her, and make her happy. It reminded me of Mario Puzo's descriptions in the original novel of The Godfather of Michael Corleone's similar instant obsession with the Sicilian beauty Apollonia, which Puzo described as Michael having been struck by "the Thunderbolt" (of love). Planchard definitely gets struck by this "Thunderbolt" too for Scarlet, and she subsequently becomes the source of all his happiness but also all of his problems. Scarlet slowly falls more and more in love with Juan, but it's clear that she carries an alternate agenda too. We learn that she's an escort, a pretty good liar, and that she already has a boyfriend in Los Angeles. What's unclear is if she'll allow herself to be loved by Juan completely and let go of the life she had before him or if she'll be able to even do that without that life catching up to them and making their love an impossibility. The book ends with Juan's passion for her leading him to commit a foolish crime that lands him in American prison for a long time. But his desire to be with Scarlet persists... The second book then picks up on a different tip. We're dismayed to find out that Scarlet has seemingly abandoned Juan while he's imprisoned and instead is living a new life in Europe with a different man. Juan is freed by the CIA in exchange for becoming their spy against Venezuela and its allies. Thus, Juan returns to his country and finds that much has changed since he last was there. In addition to Venezuela, this book's adventures take us along with Juan to Paris, Russia, Amsterdam, and more, as he interacts with powerful forces for and against "the Empire" and his Venezuela. All the while, he utilizes his freedom to try and find Scarlet and win her back or at least find out why she has abandoned him. What ensues is a book quite different than the first but equally entertaining. I found the second book to be darker, as Juan plunges into a world of secretive business dealings wherein different parties privy to a transaction seek to implicate each other in the worst of crimes in order to gain dirt on the other to build the "trust" necessary to go forward with big conspiracies. Parts of the book are emotionally hard to get through for this reason. Still, Juan's optimism and humorously oversized ego make for an entertaining read, in general. Politically, this character begins to divorce himself from the socialist revolutionary ethos that once drove him, as he finds himself closer to the common people and the plight they've suffered while the political inner circle Juan intimately came up in has increasingly consolidated its power and resources in a sense while also becoming more disjointed, much to his chagrin, in another. Nevertheless, Juan experiences occasional pangs of socialist revolutionary pride in which he comes to hate and doubt the Gringos and the CIA, whom he feels control and have imprisoned him in a new way even as they've freed him from his long sentence. One such moment transpires comedically when he finds himself in Russia, making love to multiple beautiful women, as read in the excerpt below.

Yet Juan's love for Scarlet as well as a new character in his universe has him press on and plow forward, working with Americans, Venezuelans, and whoever else might help him to regain his family. Book two ends with a "To be continued..." and I will be interested to read part three when it comes out to see what happens to this crazy, conflicted character and where in the world he ends up. If nothing else, humorous dialogues like this one below me kept me thoroughly entertained throughout. Do I have an immature sense of humor?

In summation, there is a lot to enjoy in Jakubowicz's body of work. His art is far from simple escapism and one should be prepared for deeper messaging when consuming his art, though I don't find those messages to be too heavy such as to detract from the objectively entertaining themes in his stories such as love, art, heroism, etc. I will be on the lookout for more of what this artist produces.