I hadn't seen the 1959 film of Our Man in Havana, even though I love both the novel and Noël Coward, who plays intelligence agent Hawthorne. I caught up with it over the weekend and enjoyed it very much; it's faithful to the book, with a lot of humour. Highlight: the drawing of an entirely fictitious atomic weapon that happens to look a lot like a vacuum cleaner.
Last night I picked Buena Vista Social Club from the BFI Player because I like Ry Cooder and Wim Wenders; I hadn't listened to the album, although I'm rectifying that right now on Spotify (it's GREAT).
It's a lovely film, introducing the Cuban musicians Cooder brought together, some of whom hadn't played for years and had been all but forgotten, showing us their homes and daily lives, then following them to New York and their performance at Carnegie Hall. Everything one has heard about Cuba is here: shabby plaster and bright paint, cigars and guitars and old American cars.
Maybe I should complete the Cuban trilogy with Die Another Day. Or maybe not.