Julie Gavras' Blame It On Fidel depicts a Parisian family's political evolution through the eyes of a nine-year-old girl. The tiny drama is one of the least sappy, most knowing portrayals of childhood I've seen. Anna (the marvelous Nina Kervil) is undoubtedly cute, but for the the majority of the film, her expression is fixed in a permanent, worried scowl. (See picture for a fine example.) The little girl might as well be a bulldog.
Anna's once solid middle-class parents Marie (Julie Depardieu) and Fernando (Stefano Accorsi) may have embraced revolution, quitting their jobs and giving up their fine home to work for the people--but not Anna. She wants her big apartment with the garden out back; she wants her doting maid and her expensive private Catholic school. The starving peasants of South America are not her concern--and she flat out says as much.
But because she is a child, Anna is forced to change with her lot. While her little brother Francois (Benjamin Feuillet) happily adjusts to his new circumstances, Anna coldly observes. She disapproves of the long-haired Spaniards who hold impassioned meetings in her apartment; she even makes racist comments about new nannies who come from foreign countries and serve unrecognizable foods. Anna is so downright angry you feel for her baffled parents, who have what amounts to an enemy in their midst. They are fighting the good fight, but make their own mistakes along the way, including bring Anna to a protest march where she is tear-gassed by the police.
Gavras, daughter of filmmaker Costa-Gavras, captures the spirit of the time in her first feature film, documenting not only the strident politics but also the growing women's rights movement. She also creates an intimate look at the struggles of family: meals and bedtime, sharing a bathroom, the fast flare-ups, the resolutions, the small day-to-day moments, building one after the other, until Anna accepts home as it is, not as it was, and then, miracle of miracle, she smiles. It's ridiculously charming.
