‘Night Is Not Eternal’ Review: A Trump-Sympathetic Cuban Activist Fights for Democracy in a Doc About Our Differing Definitions of Freedom

As reductive as it feels to analyze a film through the fleeting lens of post-election punditry, sometimes circumstances leave us with no other choice.

In the week following Donald Trump’s victory in the 2024 presidential election, one of the prevailing conversations in liberal spaces has been confusion about his significant electoral gains among ethnic minorities. The once and future president who built his political brand on promises of border walls and mass deportations saw his support among Latino voters, particularly men, increase by as much as 70% since 2016 in some districts. His support from Black and Asian voters improved as well, even as his rhetoric seemed more transparently racist. Astute observers had been pointing out the rightward shift of Hispanic voters in America for years, but the election brought the topic into focus for many who had previously ignored the signs.

Those results created serendipitous timing for “Night Is Not Eternal,” Nanfu Wang‘s new documentary about Cuban democracy activist Rosa María Payá that places the contradictions of trading one authoritarianism for another on full display. Filmed over the course of seven years, the film follows Payá as she travels the globe advocating for fair elections and economic freedom in her home country. Wang — a rock star documentarian who broke out on the international stage with her 2019 portrait of Chinese authoritarianism “One Child Nation” — is very much a character in the film, joining forces with Payá after noticing what she saw as parallels between China and Cuba. But as she dives deeper into Payá’s beliefs, including her willingness to align with Trump on anti-communist issues, it becomes clear that the filmmaker and her subject have very different definitions of liberation.

Rosa is the daughter of Oswaldo Payá, a five time nominee for the Nobel Peace Prize who devoted his entire life to fighting for the human rights of Cubans. He founded the Christian Liberation Movement with the intention of using his Catholic faith to organize opposition to the totalitarian rule of Fidel Castro’s Cuban Communist Party. Following his death in a 2012 car crash that many still attribute to foul play from his political opponents, Rosa assumed leadership of the Christian Liberation Movement.

While traveling through Cuba and Miami, Wang and Payá bond over their overlapping stories of fighting for human rights. Wang admits that the Chinese propaganda she grew up watching reduced Cuba to “an island of resistance to American imperialism.” It wasn’t until later in life that she understood the suffering that its people endured. But she easily relates to the way that Payá has to camouflage much of her daily behavior and constantly remain on the lookout for government agents who might be following her. Both women live the double life that comes with receiving international acclaim for acts of protest that turn you into a pariah in your own country.

But when Payá decides to appear on stage with Donald Trump at a rally in Florida, Wang begins to question how much their views really align. Payá does not mince words, explaining that she considers herself a staunch anti-communist who is willing to align with anyone who shares that position. While she declines to fully endorse Trump, she finds real value in his disdain for an ideology that she sees as bringing decades of starvation and misery to Cuba.

Wang sees things differently. “Despite having been raised in a communist society, I never considered myself a victim of communism,” she says, making it clear that she doesn’t think any economic system can be blamed for the rise of authoritarianism. In her view, a cultural obsession with maximizing profits can create circumstances that allow dictators to be welcomed into power with open arms.

As is so often the case in a nuance-averse society, it turns out that Payá and Wang are talking about slightly different things. The Cuban activist explains that she is largely agnostic about economic systems and not necessarily a cheerleader for capitalism, but sees democracy as the true alternative to communism. Her top priority is ridding Cuba of the faux-collectivism that allows communist oligarchs to get rich and control the nation — “Capi-Castro-Ism,” as she calls it — and allow her neighbors to vote and own private property. Her desire to see Cubans receive autonomy over their own lives is so strong that she’s more than willing to punt conversations about material equality to a later date.

Wang still struggles with Payá’s comfort with Trump and disinterest in collectivist economics. But as she shifts her focus to the broader phenomenon of minorities supporting Trump, it becomes clear that many immigrant voters are shaped by their own experiences in a way that makes analysis predicated on traditional ideological lines pointless. It was always ridiculous to group Hispanics as a whole into one voting block when the differences between Cuban, Venezuelan, Puerto Rican, and Mexican history prompt voters to prioritize dramatically different things. When people are burdened by visceral memories of real suffering, it often becomes harder to vote based on theoretical policy discussions.

The irony of the film’s title is that, intentionally or not, it makes the case that this night of authoritarianism might actually be eternal. Wang says that it’s as easy to visualize a future where China and Cuba are both free as one where America slides into a dictatorship. Humanity’s disagreements about the definition of freedom — whether they manifest themselves in fights about positive vs. negative rights or opportunity vs. security — could ensure that different nations push and pull each other towards wildly divergent styles of government until the end of time.

Still, Wang leaves audiences with the sense that, for good or for ill, the individuality of humans will never be fully stamped out. The same variance that makes it difficult to herd people into ideological molds ensures that, when things go wrong, someone will always be ready to speak up.

Grade: B

“Night Is Not Eternal” opens in select theaters on Friday, November 15. It airs on HBO and streams on Max at 9pm ET on Tuesday, November 19.