Brazilian Film Review: Cinema, Aspirins and Vultures
by Tom Moore
divulgação Director Marcelo Gomes instructs leading men João Miguel and Peter Ketnath
Rio de Janeiro - The face Brazil presents to the outside world, at least to the gringo tourist in Rio de Janeiro, is one of hedonism, sexuality, samba, youth, modernity, bossa nova, mountains meeting the sea, an entrancing, heady, intoxicating mix, but something belonging to this very unusual place, and not even to the vast extent of the former national capital, but to its Atlantic fringe, the South Zone. To the residents of the Zona Sul (somewhat like those of the island of Manhattan) everything inland is already the "interior", a place where older traditions survive, where life has a slower pace, where people are more authentic (and probably more reserved). The Carioca knows that the "real Brazil" lies elsewhere. When Brazilian cinema goes searching for its soul, it does not look in Rio, or anywhere in the more modern south and southeast. It heads to the interior, and more specifically to the Northeast, to the Sertão. A prize-winning example of this was Central Station (1998), which depicted the heartlessness and coldness of Rio (reflected by the physical ugliness of the neighborhoods that we see), and the gradual transformation of the soul of Dora (Fernanda Montenegro) as she travels to the Sertão to bring Josué back to his father.
Central Station was made by Walter Moreira Salles Jr.(1956-), a native of Rio de Janeiro, and the son of a prominent banker from Minas Gerais. (I know residents of Zona Sul who were outraged at the unattractive picture that this wealthy scion of the upper class drew of Rio, seeing it as a betrayal of the Wonderful City). The spiritual search in his film, not surprisingly, begins in Rio.
The director of Cinema, Aspirins and Vultures, Marcelo Gomes (1963-) comes from a lower middle class family in Pernambuco. His story (based on the experiences of his uncle Ranulpho), begins in the midst of the heat and blinding sun of the Sertão, with the sun-bleached image of a Bayer Aspirin truck trundling along an unpaved, empty road gradually gaining contrast. The image never quite sheds that bleached quality, however, with sepia tones reflecting both the character of the Sertão, and the fact that the year is 1942. Johann (Peter Ketnath) is a young German who has come to sell the new wonder drug to the Brazilian back country, with a truck full of aspirin and a portable movie projector and screen. We learn that he has been in Brazil for some time, since before the war began. Physically, he fits the Aryan ideal - tall (185 cm), athletic, blue eyes, blond hair, handsome. But clearly there is a reason (or various reasons) he is not in Germany, but in Brazil, most importantly that he likes it here.
As he travels the backcountry he meets various Brazilians on the road, including one who has no idea where the road comes from or goes to. Finally he gives a ride to Ranulpho (João Miguel), who comes from a tiny town and is anxious to get out to somewhere larger and to make something of himself. A recurring theme among the Pernambucanos whom Johann meets is the size, emptiness and distance from the outside world of Pernambuco. Nothing gets out this far, not even the war. Johann's destination is the tiny town of Triunfo, about half the distance between the Atlantic coast and Pernambuco's western border with Piauí. Johann's journey is inward, leading far from his German roots, and Ranulpho is heading outward. They manage to communicate, despite Johann's accented Portuguese, and Ranulpho's almost impenetrable Northeastern diction.
They finally arrive in Triunfo, and meet a slick operator who wants a monopoly on distributing aspirin in the entire region. As they converse over drinks with him (notably, the only Northeasterner who speaks with a Rio accent), Ranulpho addresses him respectfully as "coronel" (that is, the man who holds the power). No, he says, "I am an entrepreneur.” But this deal will fall through, as Brazil enters the war on the side of the Allies, and all Axis citizens must leave the country or go to concentration camps. And so Johann must decide where his loyalties lie (and more importantly, what his heart tells him).
The director, Marcelo Gomes, has said, in an interview with the Brazilian weekly magazine Época, that Johann and Ranulpho "represent our dream of happiness.” What was striking to this viewer was the director's view of a peaceful Brazil in the midst of a world gone mad, and more specifically, a story of friendship in which there is no violence, no anger, no jealousy, no harsh words, but common human feeling, man helping fellow man, where the struggle is against nature, drought, sun, the barren land. The sertanejos do not grudge the travelers water or hospitality. As Manuel Bandeira, in his Invocation to the Defense of the Fatherland, set to music by Villa-Lobos to salute the Brazilian soldiers leaving for Europe in 1942, wrote "O my Brazil! You are Canaan, you are paradise for the foreign friend." Johann is that foreign friend.
Cinema, Aspirins and Vultures is about a moment in time and a place in Brazil, in the interior, Pernambuco. It is about today. It is about a time in our lives and a place in our souls, about compassion, war, peace, what we must give up, leave behind, in order to get to our destinations. A striking and memorable film, a first film which I hope promises much to come from this young director.
from Amazon.com.