/ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT/FILM-BRAZIL: Insult Added to Injury in a ‘Nonviable’ Country

By Mario Osava Reprint | | Print |

Mario Osava

RIO DE JANEIRO, Jul 18 2000 (IPS) - Packing all of Brazil’s sore spots into a 100-minute film is apparently the objective of “Cronicamente inviavel” (Chronically Nonviable), a biting lampoon of the country’s social deformations.

Sergio Bianchi, 55, a filmmaking outsider with just a few productions under his belt, has revived the ambitious “cinema novo” of the 1960s in his attempt to explain and synthesize the entirety of a nation’s problems in just one film.

His showcase of depravity in Brazil is overwhelming. Police gratuitously beat up people from the indigenous and black communities, a writer survives by trafficking in human organs, endless stretches of the Amazon forest go up in smoke, men prostitute themselves for extra pocket change, and the rich cynically justify their own corrupt acts.

A blend of fiction and documentary, Bianchi’s film was surprisingly well received by the public, though its total audience so far has been limited to some 50,000 because it is only shown in the “art cinemas” of Rio de Janeiro and Sao Paulo.

In addition, Riofilme, an organisation created by the city of Rio de Janeiro to promote the national film industry, distributed just five copies of “Cronicamente inviavel.”

Originally, it was to be shown for a maximum of two weeks, and was expected to draw very few moviegoers – the fate of any Brazilian film with intellectual pretensions.

But Bianchi’s movie caught the attention of young audiences, often drawing applause, winning praise from critics and sparking debates among university students.

With better distribution it could be seen by many more people, points out the director, though he has yet to convince Riofilme to follow his advice.

“Cronicamente” is still being shown in Brazil’s two largest cities more than three months after its premiere – a victory when considering that the period theatres are required to show Brazilian-made films (a law that went into effect in June) is just four weeks.

Bianchi’s three previous feature-length films went by virtually unnoticed. With few friends in the industry – due to his aggressive temperament and frequent disputes with colleagues, producers and the authorities – the director found it difficult to drum up financial backing for his latest production.

Filming took more than five years and the project nearly sank. However, the final cost, around 800,000 dollars, is relatively low, especially when compared to the budgets of other Brazilian movies.

The plot, which is secondary and barely a hint of a dramatic edge, centres on the goings on at an upscale restaurant. It serves as a backdrop to reveal the wretchedness of the owners, employees and clientele and the plights of the various regions of Brazil from which they come.

The restaurant’s host is a woman of mixed indigenous descent who survived working as a child making charcoal. Now, she mistreats her staff and pretends to provide social assistance for the poor and for the indigenous community.

Her supposed philanthropy turns out to be a cover for selling children into adoption and trafficking in human organs.

A man who is a writer and sociologist transports the organs to the clients, and thus travels throughout the country, documenting Brazil’s social injustices. He has taken on this dirty work, he says, “because writing books doesn’t pay enough to survive.”

The waiters at the restaurant seek additional income by turning to prostitution or try to keep their jobs by providing sexual favours for their boss. One of the restaurant’s customers entertains herself by watching street children fight over the toys she has just given them.

Beggars are prohibited from eating even garbage, police torture their arrestees, fights and murders occur amid rush-hour traffic – scenes that paint a national panorama seemingly without solution, as the movie’s title indicates. And the rich explain away their corruption saying, in this country “everyone is a crook.”

Social inequality, the sharp contrast between the people on the streets and those who can afford to eat in the restaurant, is the underlying theme throughout, and is treated with cynicism by both sides.

The final scene of the film is the most provocative, commented journalist and writer Mario Sergio Conti in the Folha de Sao Paulo newspaper. He was impressed by the strong impact of the movie, which he says has reactivated the debate on the role of politics in cinema.

A woman who lives on the streets – representing the most absolute misery – advises her eight-year-old son to “always be honest” and predicts that one day he will be a “great man.” Is it Bianchi expressing pure sarcasm? Or hope for the future, for the survival of dignity among the poor?

This ambiguity could in part explain the film’s unexpected popularity and its impact on those who have seen it.

In the middle of Brazil’s film industry, which to a great extent attempts to please the market and the judges at Hollywood’s Academy Awards, arises a work that shows brutal, difficult-to- watch scenes that force audiences to reflect and move them to talk about the path their country is following.