‘Milagro Beanfield War’ Taps Nerve in San Diego

As far as some local Latino moviegoers are concerned, the “The Milagro Beanfield War”--a movie about the powerless winning a seemingly impossible victory over the powerful--could not have been released at a more opportune time.

Several people attending Sunday’s special screening at Horton Plaza’s United Artists Cinema were quick to point out that some San Diego Latinos are currently engaged in their own act of defiance against the Anglo establishment.

The movie’s political message emanates from a symbolic bean field that is being irrigated with water denied to residents of the impoverished town of Milagro, N.M. On Sunday, Chicano activists said the local Latino community is engaged in a similar struggle against the City of San Diego in a fight to tap into the local political well.

Like the water that was denied to the Chicanos of Milagro, the City Council has dammed off the political wellspring to Chicanos in San Diego, claim officials of the Chicano Federation of San Diego County. The federation, which sponsored the screening of Milagro, sued the city in federal court in January, charging that Chicano voting strength has been “fractured” through the redistricting process.

Council members in San Diego are elected through at-large general elections. Chicano candidates keep winning primaries in District 8, which is heavily Latino, but always lose in the general election, they said.

The movie produced by Robert Redford and Moctesuma Esparaza has received lukewarm reviews from film critics. But a number of people at Sunday’s screening said that for San Diego Latinos, the meaning of the film went beyond the imperfections that some critics may have seen in the music, writing and attempts at mysticism.

“There’s a lot more significance to this movie than just the casting or other things that critics look for,” said Jess Haro. “For us, it has all the elements of what we’re doing in San Diego. As in Milagro, here it is a fight between the haves and the have-nots, the powerless versus the powerful, and, yes, good versus evil.”

Haro, who is chairman of the federation, was ousted from the City Council in 1978 after he was jailed for a misdemeanor Customs violation. He represented District 8.

About 450 persons--mostly Chicanos--who attended the screening were entertained by Freddy Fender and Roberto Carricart, two of the film’s stars who attended the special showing. Fender played Sammy Cantu, Milagro’s easygoing mayor, while Carricart played the Coyote Angel, an atypical angel who appears only to the venerable Amarante Cordova.

After the movie, Fender exhorted the crowd to continue in their lawsuit against the city. The country and Western recording star, offering encouragement, talked about his experience growing up in San Benito, Tex., in the 1940s and ‘50s.

“I remember the cotton fields and places where I was not allowed inside. . . . Our young people today have never experienced this and they have a tendency to become complacent. They need to be shown that inequities still exist.”

Carricart jumped to his feet and yelled, “Viva Raza, “ eliciting a response of “Viva!” from the movie audience.

All proceeds from the screening--tickets were $15 each--went to the federation’s Leadership Training Institute. A reception followed at the Golden Lion Tavern, across from Horton Plaza.

Despite the less than enthusiastic reviews for “Milagro,” praise for the movie was almost universal Sunday. Most people mentioned the realism of the plot and characters, who were not portrayed in stereotypical fashion.

“They came across as real persons,” said Rita Hinsley. “When they talked, you didn’t hear the heavily accented English that one has come to dislike in movies made about Mexicans. It treated people with dignity and gave a positive image of them. Even the comedy was natural.”

Tomas Villarreal said he was moved by the “simplicity and believability” of the plot.

“My dad’s family is from northern New Mexico, and he has told me about similar struggles like this. Water has always been an issue in places like New Mexico. A bean field may seem like an insignificant battleground to some, but it symbolizes everything that we’ve ever fought for. The message is the conflict. And we haven’t won many of them (conflicts). That’s why this movie is so heartwarming.”

Fender and Carricart both said that at the beginning they had some reservations about how the Chicano characters were going to be portrayed in the movie.

“At first, I was afraid that the movie would be belittling our culture or the characters would be made to appear foolish,” Fender said. “But there’s nothing insulting about our people in the movie. Redford did everything to assure an honest portrayal of the characters, and he worked to make the film as authentic as possible.”

Carricart also had high praise for the way Redford directed the movie.

“I must admit, at the beginning I had some reservations about whether I was going to play a stereotypical role. But he (Redford) really stayed away from that. In fact, there were times when I tried to make my character more Mexican, Redford made me anglicize him a little more. We never fell into the Mexican trap, so to speak.”

Chunky Sanchez and Los Alacranes Mojados (The Wetback Scorpions), a local norteno group, provided entertainment at the reception. The group was joined by Flaco (Skinny) Jimenez, the premier accordion player in the norteno genre. Jimenez, who is from San Antonio, Tex., played several sets with the group.

Several couples crowded the postage-stamp-size dance floor as the bar’s other patrons looked in bewilderment from across the room. As the group was ready to call it a night, the crowd started chanting “Freddie! Freddie,” trying to lure Fender away from the patio area, where he was meeting with fans and signing autographs.

A smiling Fender sprinted into the bar and sang two songs, despite complaints of a sore throat. He opened with a ranchera . . . “Dejame Verte Llorando” (Let Me See You Cry) and the crowd gathered around him. Jimenez complemented the song with a solo riff.

The crowd responded with shouts of “Otra! Otra!” (another one); Fender accommodated them with a stinging rendition of “Wasted Days and Wasted Nights” that also featured Jimenez on the accordion.

Then, like the Coyote Angel and old Amarante, who disappeared together into the early night horizon at the end of the movie, Fender eased out the back door and the crowd dispersed.