The use of metaphor in film is generally more perilous than in literature, because the medium by its nature tends to favor the literal and explicit, leaving devices that might seem effective on the page looking painfully exposed and heavy-handed onscreen. Life Is To Whistle, a silly and overripe piece of magic realism, actually goes so far as to name one of its characters "Cuba" and ponders the fate of three Havana loners who were once orphans under her watch. As adults, apparently, mother Cuba has abandoned them to a harsh and confusing world, and they're left to wonder when she'll return to give them some guidance. Narrated by an omniscient teenage girl who speaks directly to the camera—often underwater, for no discernible reason—Life Is To Whistle cuts among the vaguely connected trio while building to a fateful encounter in Revolution Square. They are Coralia Veloz, a middle-aged woman given to excessive yawning and fainting spells every time she hears the word "sex"; Luis Alberto García, a petty thief obsessed with "Cuba" who falls for a German Greenpeace activist; and Claudia Rojas, a nymphomaniac ballet dancer who vows to be celibate if she gets the title role in a production of Giselle. Director Fernando Pérez generates a lot of surreal whimsy to compensate for his thinly realized characters, and he even tosses in performance footage from Buena Vista Social Club bandleader Benny Moré for a little national flavor, but to no meaningful end. More often than not, Pérez's passion gets the better of him, resulting in at least three emotional crescendos in which people run in a downpour with their arms outstretched. Life Is To Whistle is a love letter to mother Cuba, but she'd likely be embarrassed to read it.