A timely coup for filmmakers

The Latino International Film Festival continues at the Egyptian Theatre with an abundance of varied and provocative fare, none more engrossing or as timely as “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised.” In a classic instance of being at the right place at the right time, Irish documentarians Kim Bartley and Donnacha O’Briain were in Venezuela, where President Hugo Chavez had given them full access to profile him. Consequently, they were in place when on April 11, 2002, the news media reported that Chavez had been removed from office, arrested and replaced by a self-appointed transitional government composed of the high military command and backed by the country’s wealthy elite.

Chavez, a stocky, virile former soldier with a forceful intellect and charismatic personality, had been democratically elected to office by a landslide in 1998. Said to be close to Fidel Castro, Chavez set about attempting to redistribute the wealth of the country, the world’s fourth-largest supplier of oil. The oil industry is state-owned but controlled by the rich and the powerful, while 80% of the population lives in poverty.

While establishing an open government, Chavez held to the principle of free expression. Thus the country’s five privately owned TV channels, representing the interests of the Chavez opposition, were free to mount attacks on him, branding him a communist. Chavez used the one state-owned channel that was at his disposal to get out his message.

Ultimately, the army’s dissident generals, widely believed in Venezuela to have had U.S. support, were by April 2000 able to foment a sizable anti-Chavez street demonstration in Caracas. A march on the oil industry administration was redirected to the presidential palace to drive Chavez from office. In the meantime the dissidents managed to cut the signal of the single state TV channel and orchestrate their version of the growing clash between anti- and pro-Chavez supporters. Chavez, while refusing to resign office, surrendered to the military in order to avoid the palace being bombed.

This overthrow of a democratically elected government has been called “the world’s first media coup,” in which Chavez’s enemies invented their version of the turmoil to justify their takeover. But Chavez supporters were able to get the state TV channel operating again, and the already outraged masses, once informed of what was going on, mounted another march on the presidential palace, restoring Chavez and his administration to power in a mere 48 hours.

Somehow Barley and O’Briain and their crews seem to have been everywhere at once, and they bring both excitement and clarity to a series of complex, rapidly developing events. They made the most of their extraordinary opportunity to record history, and the way in which they revealed the role the electronic media played, both for better and for worse, carries implications as obvious as they are profound.

The festival is rich in films devoted to musicians and their music, and one of the best is Lorenzo DeStefano’s heart-tugging “Los Zafiros/The Sapphires -- Music From the Edge of Time,” which introduces us to a once world-renowned singing group of the ‘60s sometimes described as “the Cuban Platters” or “The Beatles of Cuba.” It was composed of five young men who combined a calypso beat with the African rhythms of Cuban music, also incorporating American pop music influences. Los Zafiros had an extraordinary vocal quality and an impressive repertoire, with songs reflecting the passionate spirit of the people.

But what happened to them? The film is an emotion-charged answer, although the impact of the U.S. embargo is left implicit. After a flourish of vintage clips and archival images, we experience the impact of the charisma and talent of the group and its music. Then we meet, in Miami, silver-haired singer Miguel Cancio, now 65, and follow him on his return to Havana after leaving his homeland in 1992. Preparing for the visit he says he feels “joy, sadness.... I won’t have time to understand all these feelings.”

In Havana he has a reunion with the only other surviving Zafiro, the still-dashing guitarist-singer Manuel Galban, currently a member of the renowned Buena Vista Social Club band. They visit old colleagues and friends, perform in bars and even return to a recording studio. In a park, they join in with Los Nuevos Zafiros, founded in 1987 by the late Elio “El Chino” Hernandez, an original Zafiro who was then still an electrifying performer. “Los Zafiros” is a beautiful, tender film that leaves us feeling that the group’s music will never fade.

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Latino Film Festival

What: “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised,” Sunday, 1:30 p.m.; “Los Zafiros/The Sapphires -- Music From the Edge of Time,” Sunday, 11:30 a.m.

Where: Egyptian Theatre, 6712 Hollywood Blvd., Hollywood

Info: (323) 469-9066; www.latinofilm.org