DAY THREE  November 5, 2005
Andy Garcia Takes a Trip to THE LOST CITY
by Chris Davison
A young boy stands with eyes closed, drinking in all that surrounds him. The warm, fragrant air gently caresses his skin, while a golden sun slowly melts into the clear blue sea. A passing bloom of mariposa and a subtle hint of jacaranda fill his nostrils, as the last ribbon of light is tucked away. Darkness falls and the lungs of Havana open wide to take a full, deep breath--they fill with life as the rumba, the son and the mambo pulse warm vibrations in salted air. It is the Golden Age and Andy Garcia is falling
in love for the very first time. First love is timeless love, eternal devotion. No matter how many times love comes calling, the first is magic--to be held tightly and felt fully, then forever lost to the winds of time.
Many years have passed since the Revolution ended the Golden Age, but Andy Garcia remembers; his first love burns still for his native Cuba. THE LOST CITY is Garcia's life's work, a film he has dreamed of making since he left Havana at the age of five. In advance of its AFI FEST 2005 screening today, Saturday,
November 5 in ArcLight Theatre 10 at 6:30 p.m., I recently
had the opportunity to speak with Garcia about life, love and "the white rose."
AFI: It has been nearly 50 years since these events occurred.
What inspired you to tell this story in 2005? Garcia: I want to pay tribute
to Cuba in the late 1950s, the last of the elegant eras, a curtain call for a way of life. I have a profound amount of nostalgia for its music, and, stylistically, it's great fodder for setting a story in that place and time. When audiences see it, they will be totally absorbed into the atmosphere
of what the place was like, what the lifestyle was like. The microcosm of a family shows that conflicting ideologies and dreams can tear people apart, causing brother to turn against brother, brother to turn against father, even though all share the love of one nuclear family. At the heart of THE LOST CITY is a story of impossible love for a country and for a woman--you can love her but you can't be with her. I believe this love is shared by exiles all over the world. AFI: Can you describe the "Paris of the Caribbean"--the music, the life, the color?
Garcia: Havana was a city of extraordinary culture and music that attracted people from around the world; it was the place to go. Before there was Vegas or Miami Beach, even before there was America, there was Havana. It was progressive in music, fashion,
technology and was very cosmopolitan. At the time of the Revolution, it had the third highest per capita income in this hemisphere, although the lack of pluralism in the government was an embarrassment. AFI: Castro isn't going to live forever. Are you hopeful that the lost city will one day be found? Garcia: Jose Marti led the fight for Cuban independence against the Spanish at the turn of the century, and we all hope for his spirit to come back and lead us into the future, with the reestablishment of our democracy and our constitution.
This was what the Revolution was all about, and we are still waiting for this promise. History
will lead in this direction, but when it will happen, no one knows. Marti wrote a poem that said, "I cultivate a white rose in July as in January for a sincere man who gives me his honest
hand. And for the cruel one who tears from me the heart with which I live, I cultivate neither thorns nor thistles, I cultivate a white rose." This is the point of view of the film--the idea of tolerance, peace and freedom.
AFI: What do you hope audience members will say to each other as they walk out of the theater? Garcia: I want [the film] to have resonance--to have audience members go home, and, as time passes, find they are still thinking and talking about the film. I hope to create
a greater and deeper understanding of what happened
at the time, a better knowledge of what really went down. I set out to make a strong movie that you can revisit years from now and find still has relevance.
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