Jazz a la Cuba: A tiny, fuzzy time capsule

Is it worth your time?

Honestly, only if you've got a soft spot for grainy, old-school musical shorts. If you're looking for a narrative arc, you’re gonna be bored within thirty seconds. But for music nerds or people who just like seeing how people dressed while playing horns in 1930? It's a neat little curiosity. 🎺

It’s barely a movie, really. It’s more like a filmed performance that someone decided to save from the trash. Don Aspiazu is front and center, and man, the energy is actually there.

There is this moment where the camera just sort of hovers, like it doesn’t know where else to look. It’s not sleek. It’s definitely not polished. It feels like someone just stood in the room with a tripod and said, "Okay, keep playing, I guess."

I found myself comparing it to the pacing in Passers-by, though these two films are obviously worlds apart in intent. At least here, the music carries the dead air. Sometimes the silence between songs feels like a century.

The sound quality is exactly what you expect—lots of crackle and hiss. It makes the trumpets sound like they’re coming from inside a tin can. But you don't care. You can still hear the rhythm, and the rhythm is what matters here.

It’s a funny contrast to the polished, manic energy of something like Mickey's Orphans from around the same era. One is trying to make you laugh with chaos, the other is just trying to capture a beat. I think I prefer the beat.

The guys in the back look like they’re either having the time of their lives or they really need a glass of water. It’s hard to tell through the blur. That’s the charm of it, I suppose.

Random notes:

• The lighting is basically "hope for the best."
• I’m pretty sure someone bumped the camera at one point.
• The suits are fantastic, even in black and white.
• It ends so abruptly it feels like someone just cut the power.

Don't go in expecting a production. Go in expecting a vibe. It’s short, it’s sweet, and it’s a bit of a relic. Maybe that’s enough. 🎷