Falcão - Meninos do Tráfico was one of the first books I read in Portuguese, back when it was hard for me to understand the vocabulary, let alone all the slang. The book is based on a documentary made in 2006 by Brazilian rapper MV Bill about children and youth in drug trafficking in Brazil. I'd never actually seen the movie, so I was excited to find it in its entirety on YouTube. It's grim and a bit disjointed, but still very eye-opening for those unfamiliar with drug trafficking and police corruption in Brazil, and a jarring reminder to those who are. It also shows that the drug trade in Brazil extends far beyond Rio's favelas to many major cities in Brazil (though the book provides more detail about the locations). Unfortunately, the videos aren't available in English, although a lot of the dialogue has Portuguese subtitles with occasional explanations of certain slang words.
With more time and money, I would have gone to every movie at the MoMA Premiere Brazil Film Festival this year, but unfortunately, I only made it to a few. The first movie I saw was a big disappointment, as was the most recent one I saw. Fortunately, one of the films was so good that it made up for the other two.
The not so thrilling movie was Terras, a documentary about the border region of the Amazon. I could not disagree more with the Huffington Post review:
"Terra sets the stage for the contrasts of social cohabitation that occur between the indigenous Indians, transient locals and governments. The director uses the camera to seduce the viewer with gorgeous portraits of the people that migrate throughout this ambiguous territory, as well as the kaleidoscope of colors and textures that comprise the land itself."
If by seduce, you mean put to sleep, then yes, that just about covers it. While this movie had potential to be really interesting - there were some good interviews with various locals who discussed identity, the Amazon, and the concept of borders - there was absolutely no context or information given about anything or anyone, and an absurd amount of time was spent on close ups of random textures in the forest or uninteresting scenes that went on far too long. This film would be more appropriate as an exhibit at MoMa, one you pass through to look at for a few minutes, but not as a full length feature. Several people left during the movie, including our friends who came with us, and Eli squirmed until the anti-climatic end of the film.
But meanwhile, Lixo Extraordinario (translated in English as Wasteland, though it literally means "Extraordinary Trash"), was by far one of the best documentaries I've ever seen.
First of all, I love Vik Muniz. I saw his exhibit in the film when it first opened in Rio, and went twice I loved it so much. But I didn't realize the extent of the story behind the trash series, and this movie blew me away.
The film follows Vik from the beginning to the end of his trash project, where he goes to one of the biggest landfills in the world to collect trash to use for a new series. But instead of staying in the comfort of his beautiful Brooklyn apartment, he ventures to Rio (he is paulista, by the way), and spends time in easily one of the most godforsaken places in Brazil. He hires the garbage pickers at the dump site to collect pieces for his project, who normally collect materials they can recycle. He also hires them to pose for photographs and arrange the trash on projections of the photographs to create amazing works of art. He promises them all of the proceeds from the sales of the pieces so that the money will go back to the community.
While the movie is about art, sustainability, the environment, and poverty, its least obvious theme is classism. Though there are allusions to it, the movie doesn't fully explain just how low on the rung these catadores are; to compare them to the Indian caste system, in Brazil, they're the untouchables. Vik, meanwhile, is very wealthy and from a very different world, though he grew up poor. He purposefully designs a project with social ramifications intended to help those who have very little. (Be prepared: the scenes of poverty are jarring). There's a scene where Vik argues with his wife about the long term effects the project will have on the catadores; she argues he's doing them harm, by giving them a spot in the limelight when they will just have to go back to picking trash. His attitude is different - "If I were in their shoes, I would do the same thing." In the end, there are no illusions that the project couldn't completely change everyone's lives, since it's just not possible. But the experience undoubtedly had a positive, empowering effect on everyone involved. It's also important to note that this scenario is not necessarily the norm for Brazil. While philanthropy is definitely growing, this type of project where the benefactor literally worked side by side with the beneficiaries, so to speak, is not typical for wealthy expat Brazilians, and it was extremely inspiring to see.
The other key facet of the film that makes it such a joy to watch are the catadores themselves, who are each charming in their own way. Tião, the head of the pickers' collective, is the obvious star, but every single person brought something different and compelling to the project (I especially loved Magna). Valter, one of the old-timers, will forever change the way you think about recycling (and really, doing anything to help others) with his simple words of wisdom. "Noventa e nove não é cem," he says, matter-of-factly.
I can pretty much guarantee you'll weep and re-evaluate your life by the end of this movie. Go see it!
Last week, Sylvester Stallone made headlines in Brazil after a panel at Comic-Con, discussing his new movie The Expendibles, parts of which were shot in Rio de Janeiro and possibly other parts of Brazil. Making light of the lax attitude Cariocas had toward filming, BOPE, and the security situation, Stallone really, really pissed off quite a few Brazilians.
The bulk of Stallone's foot-in-the-mouth comments was the following:
"You can shoot people and blow things up and they say, ‘Thank you! Take a monkey home with you!’ We couldn’t have pulled off what we did [somewhere else]. We blew up huge plots of land. It was like, Everybody bring their hot dogs. We’re having a BBQ today. We’re gonna blow up this village.”
He also went on to emphasize that they needed a crew of 70 security guards because of the unsafe situation where they filmed in Rio, and made snarky comments about the BOPE skull and crossbones symbol, saying "Imagine if the LAPD used that!"
The reaction was swift and to anyone who knows Brazil, completely expected. Brazilian Twitter users pushed the term "Cala boca, Sylvester Stallone" (Shut up, Sylvester Stallone) to the top of the trending topics, and the event made news in most major news outlets. (I admit I had to laugh when Globo labeled his comments as "politically incorrect," since Globo knows so much about political incorrectness). Someone with half a brain at the movie studio realized how big of a faux pas Stallone's comments had become, and he quickly issued an apology, alleging his love and respect of Brazil and claiming he'd even recommended that other Americans film there.
There are a couple of issues at play here, ones that an intelligent PR person would have looked into in anticipation of questions about filming in Brazil.
1. Sylvester Stallone is an idiot. He clearly needs to be fed some of his lines ahead of time, even for publicity events. This really should not be news to anyone.
2. Brazilians are extremely sensitive to criticism, regardless of whether the comments are true or not. If you want to avoid a small scandal when doing Brazil-related PR, it's best to avoid anything that could remotely be considered negative or offensive. It's especially bad when a foreign celebrity makes publicly negative comments about Brazil, because it reinforces stereotypes and also perpetuates the inferiority complex that many Brazilians still continue to harbor.
3. While his comments were obnoxious to begin with, Stallone made the epic mistake of including the word "monkey" in his misguided response. While he literally meant a pet monkey, the word for monkey in Portuguese, "macaco," is also an extremely offensive racial epithet. While he didn't mean to use the word that way, it definitely made things worse.
While Stallone's comments were certainly made in an offensive way, there was truth to them: famous gringos are treated with nearly total deference in Brazil (in Rio, especially), and are often given free reign to do whatever they want. Rio is a violent city, and wealthy visitors often hire some form of security when traveling there; few outsiders go into favelas without knowing someone who lives or works there. BOPE exists because of the pervasive violence, which has become something of a fact of life. And plenty of Brazilians do love hot dogs and a good churrasco.
Still, while many people were offended, there were others who shrugged and said, "So what?" (Personally, I think this is a healthy attitude to have, especially in reference to the opinions of someone like Sylvester Stallone) Plus, action movies are really big in Brazil, and it's fairly likely Stallone's new movie will do well there despite this incident.
Overall, the main lesson this little episode offers is: when doing any kind of marketing related to Brazil, tread lightly and be prepared, or you may find yourself with your foot firmly wedged in your mouth, figuratively speaking.
As you can imagine, I am really excited about MoMa's Premiere Brazil movie festival, and outlined a whole schedule for myself when they launched this year's site. But when Eli and I went for the first movie on my list, I was really, really disappointed.
Salve Geral (Time of Fear)
Since this movie was chosen as Brazil's pick for the Oscars last year (though it did not get a nomination), I figured it had to be good. Unfortunately, I was wrong.
The film has an interesting premise, since it's based on real events, when Sao Paulo was paralyzed by prison riots and extreme violence throughout the capital. But the approach was all wrong. The script follows a widow and her son and their spiral downward, culminating in the chaos of the rioting. Though the acting is pretty good (the villain, played by the fabulous Denise Weinberg, is one of my favorites), the script is tedious, far too long, and very cliched. With a plotline eerily similar to that of Weeds and an unsatisfying ending, it's just really difficult to enjoy. Despite, a seemingly big budget and plenty of talented actors, this movie fell flat.
To sum it up a single word - when we left the theater, Eli kept muttering under his breath, "Horroroso!"
Pelada
After coming home from Salve Geral, Eli wanted to watch something totally different to get the bad taste out of his mouth. A friend he plays soccer with had told him about this documentary months ago, but we hadn't been able to find it. Then he came across Pelada on iTunes, and we stayed up until 1 in the morning watching it. I fell in love with it instantly.
Proof that you don't need a big budget to make a great movie, this documentary follows two former soccer players in their mid-twenties. Somewhat lost after graduating from college and giving up on professional soccer careers, they decide to travel the world playing pick up games, and make their way through South America, Africa, the Middle East, Europe, and parts of Asia.
The filmmakers won me over quickly by starting their world tour in Rio de Janeiro, but also when they reveal that they have both lived in Brazil and speak Portuguese (Luke more so than Gwendolyn, but still). The rest of the Latin American tour takes them to Uruguay, Argentina, Bolivia, and Peru, where they play with prison inmates, indigenous women high in the Andes, the inner city of Buenos Aires, and on the salt flats. At the beginning, they seem a bit naive, but they are charming and sweet, and it's hard not to like them.
The movie is not just about the universal love of soccer and how it unites people, but also about giving up on a dream and adjusting to life when you no longer do something every day. As a former dancer, I can really relate, and it really hit me hard watching them go through the same thing I did. It's also about being our age and still not really knowing what you want to do or what you should do, and about the sheer love of travel. Basically, it's my kind of movie.
Despite the many heartwarming scenes, there is a realistic limitation to the illusions of a magical game that unites everyone; the scene in Israel is especially funny and telling. Also, I wish they had spent more time focusing on the role of women, especially how they are viewed as athletes in the many countries they visit (this takes on an entirely different tone in Iran, which is completely heartbreaking). Really, I wish this could have been made into a TV series where they could have made an episode for each country and could have devoted more time to different people, in particular Ronaldinha in Brazil.
In short, this is an absolute must see for anyone who loves soccer, Latin America, or travel, or anyone in their mid-twenties still trying to figure out what to do with their life.
Download the movie on iTunes or look for an upcoming screening near you.
As much as I love cultural exchange between Brazil and the US, it's sometimes hard to listen to English and Portuguese get mangled by earnest non-speakers. Here are two prime examples:
The whole Cala boca Galvao movement and Brazilians on Twitter were recent topics at the TED Conference. It's actually an interesting little video (he changes topics after the 4th minute or so, though), but the speaker's pronunciation leaves something to be desired.
Then we have Sabrina Sato, who is already irritating as it is, interviewing Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz in English. I swear I couldn't even watch the whole video because it was so awkward and uncomfortable that it was making me cringe. I did love the part where she was attempting to ask Cameron Diaz about the World Cup, and for some reason she answered that she loves Brazilian waxes. I also thought it was neat that Tom Cruise claims he's studying Portuguese, but it's probable he says the same thing whenever he's promoting a movie in a foreign country.
One of the best things about living in New York is the Brazilian community; between the cultural events, concerts, movies, and food, it's easy to matar saudades, but it's also wonderful to be able to meet so many Brazilians, either ones who live here or ones passing through. It's impossible to be too homesick for Brazil in New York, because you'll find Brazilians and Brazilian culture all over the city.
So when a guy from Berimbau told Eli and I about a Brazilian party on Sundays at the Coffee Shop's Union Square Lounge, we were really excited to check it out. It supposedly had great Brazilian music and was a fun event to meet other Brazilians in New York.
Last week, we decided to go. We'd been told it the event started at 5, though according to the website, it only started at 6:30. So when we went over at 6, the place wasn't open yet. Eli spoke to a not particularly friendly Brazilian from management at the Coffee Shop, who told us it hadn't started yet but there would be a drink minimum, for our information. I found this odd because nowhere online does it say there's a cover or minimum for the venue. In any event, there was nothing going on, so we left. We came back an hour later, when the lounge was supposed to have opened. Another Brazilian at the door told us it hadn't started yet, though the club appeared to be open. Annoyed, we left and went to another bar to meet friends. Later that night, two of our friends we were with stopped by the lounge on their way home. Both are Brazilian and white, and at the time were wearing flip flops. They were let in with no mention of a drink minimum, had one or two beers, and went home without incident.
Fast forward to this week, when Eli (a brown-skinned Brazilian), both aforementioned Brazilian friends, and one of Eli's Asian co-workers went to the lounge after a barbecue (I was at home getting ready and waiting to hear when Eli got there). The party was in full swing when they arrived, but they were told by the Brazilian at the door that they couldn't wear flip flops to go in. I'd warned them that could happen, so they told the man at the door that they would change their shoes and come back. One of the Brazilian friends went home, and then Eli, his Asian co-worker and his Brazilian friend changed into sneakers and returned to the lounge.
The same guy was there, the same one who we spoke to the week before, and the same one who had told them he could have let them in if had been wearing different shoes. This time, he told the three that he could let them in, but they'd have to spend a minimum of $140 in drinks. It was a particularly odd ultimatum, especially since he was letting other people in without mentioning this, including a pair of Spaniards who he let in in front of Eli and his two friends. It also would appear to be a flat out lie based on our friends' experience the week before, and it appeared to be a lie intended to keep Eli and his friends out. After that, they left, and Eli called to tell me not to bother to come.
Racism and classism are certainly not relegated to Brazil, where Eli and I had a few minor incidents together. New York has its own problems with racism; Manhattan clubs in particular have been accused of having racist door policies, and SoHo club Greenhouse has been sued three times by Latino and black women for racism. What was so insulting and disappointing about these incidents was seeing these misguided policies perpetrated by Brazilians against their own.
I have no intention of trying to go back to the lounge, let alone the Coffee Shop. Instead, I recommend these fun Brazil parties, whether you're a Brazilian looking for a taste of home or a gringo looking for a bit of Brazil in New York:
The campaigns for Brazilian president are in full swing, with 10 candidates in the running. As expected, Dilma Rousseff and José Serra are the front runners, followed by Marina Silva. Serra and Rousseff are neck and neck, and while Marina may be decisive in the swing votes she takes away from the two main contenders.
What makes this election different from the last American presidential election is that Brazilians are not looking for change; things are better than ever, with a thriving economy and relative stability. Sylvie Stein in Foreign Policy writes:
"Now that they are enjoying peace and prosperity relative to the tumult of past decades, Brazilian voters don't want change (except maybe a World Cup redux). They want Commitment to Continuity, not Audacity of Hope; security and certainty, not inspiration and innovation. And their politicians are happy to placate them."
Still, there is lots to be done, particularly in the areas of education, crime, and the justice system. It will be interesting to see how the candidates swear up and down to keep the economy strong while still tackling long problematic issues, but in a way that downplays change itself.
Like with any big election, there's plenty of fanfare. Take, for example, this kid inspired by Obamagirl:
Based on what I've observed, though, the decisive factors come down to the types of changes the candidates could potentially make based on their views differ on issues like gay marriage, abortion, and other controversial topics. They may not be promising much now, or even toward the end of the campaign, but I suspect voters will make their decisions on the threat of change and the types of changes the candidates seem likely to make.
