The Motorcycle Diaries - an exhibition of subtleties

The Motorcycle Diaries is an exhibition of subtleties. It depicts the journey that Che Guevara, then a med student, and his friend took across the continent of South America- first on a bike and later by hitchhiking.

The movie began promising much fun and adventures, dangers and escapades, and sex and violence. There was plenty of that, but what caught my eye was what seemed a hark back to beat literature, sans the catharsis. There was rarely a loud moment in the film, rarely a moment that jolted you because you knew what was coming next. As the movie progressed, I became aware of the undercurrents, of what was dawning on the protagonist himself. While a capitalist revolution was making slaves of the without imprisoning them, here were two adventurers traveling for traveling's sake (to quote the movie), for adventure and ecstacy, while others traveled great distances for work for sustenance.

What I liked most was that there were no The-Passion-of-Christ-like moments that whipped you into feeling pain for those suffering.

There are, of course, things which I did not like about the movie. Che Guevara is projected as a 'goody-two-shoes' character. That, and the fact that some of his outbursts, and the swim across the river seeemed concocted and quite out of character. Also, the movie ended rather suddenly. Even after two hours, I wished that they'd told more. This is, perhaps, where the History Channel beats everyone else.

What the movie has done is made me cancel plans for the weekend, and take a trip to Jaipur. Badly need a break. Was hoping to meet a certain muse to help me start writing again, but thats not worked out. (Finish your book, man. Finish your book)

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