There was a time when emigration from Cuba was a definitive separation. There were no visits. In the '80s, '90s, it was incredibly difficult. I'm not the only one interested in this as a filmmaker - other Cuban filmmakers have dealt with it, too, because it's such a part of our reality.

Cubans joke and satirize everything that life gives them, and I think that's a positive characteristic.

In Cuba and specifically in Havana there's a sort of energy that turns every situation into something unexpected.

In all of my movies I've tried to address the need for man - not just Cubans - to have a dream and to fight for that dream, even when he doesn't achieve it. It's a form of happiness.

Immigration and travel certainly don't mean the same thing everywhere. Here in Cuba, the big wall isn't just the fact that it's an island, but the fact that we need an exit permit in order to leave, and the letters of invitation in order to visit another country.

I think that this necessity to travel, to see, it's part of human nature.

The magic of film isn't just because of the big screen, or the acoustics, but the ineffable shared experience of going to the movies.