The Singer's Wife
There are two adequate reasons to see El Cantante, the fidgety and generally unloved biopic about the life and death of salsa star Héctor Lavoe. The first and better reason is if you need an easily digestible synopsis of why salsa was such an important musical style in the seventies and eighties, and why Lavoe, played by the charismatic and mystically cheekboned Marc Anthony, was its most popular performer. The second and less adequate reason would be Jennifer Lopez (Anthony's spouse), who both produced El Cantante and co-stars as Lavoe's feisty wife, Puchi, through whom, for better or worse, his story is told. "The more he grew as an artist, the lower he got as a person," Puchi says, and thus El Cantante's concentration on Lavoe's addictions, infidelities, and general messed-upness.
Although far too much of El Cantante is shot in what resembles a vintage MTV pastiche, things pick up whenever Anthony channels Lavoe's impeccable phrasing amid longtime Lavoe musical partner Willie Colón's brassy electric arrangements. Lavoe's unhappy childhood (his mother died when he was four), emigration from Puerto Rico against his father's fervent wishes at seventeen, rocketlike artistic ascent, and subsequent decline (he attempted suicide before succumbing to AIDS in 1993 at age forty-six) all fail the storytelling mandate of show-don't-tell. This movie's real them is his tumultuous relationship with J-Lo/Puchi.
Check out some primo YouTube footage to really see what made Lavoe salsa's Elvis and Sinatra at once. This vintage 1970-ish performance with Colón's orchestra captures the young, pre-dissolute Lavoe at his best. Lavoe's outfit alone justifies this fine performance of "Mi Gente" with the Fania All-Stars. And he's the consummate rock star in this Venezuela television performance with Tito Puente.