Apocalipsis en los trópicos

From beginning to end, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time. This documentary brought back memories of the terror Brazil experienced for four years under the previous administration and how we cannot allow that to happen again. It's easy to understand and the narrative is very easy to understand. Petra did a job that many will say is fabricated, but it's the naked truth that needs to be shown to the world, but mainly to show how capable Brazil is of evolving and achieving justice, and that no other country should blackmail an entire nation. Assista e aproveite a história sendo contada.

"Apocalypse in the Tropics" is a powerful and timely documentary that bravely explores the alarming rise of religious fundamentalism within the political sphere - a phenomenon with deep and troubling implications for democracies around the world, especially in countries like Brazil. With her signature sensitivity and courage, Petra Costa delivers a work that is both urgent and poetic, peeling back layers of ideology to reveal how faith, when co-opted by power, can erode institutions and threaten civil liberties. This film is not just a warning - it's a vital act of resistance. Petra once again proves why she is one of the most essential voices in contemporary documentary cinema.

First of my twenty films at the 48th São Paulo Film Festival, Apocalypse in the Tropics delivers more than its predecessor, The Edge of Democracy, in addition to consecrating (to keep with the theme) Petra Costa's pair of historical documentaries as masterpieces of Brazilian audiovisual.

In The Edge of Democracy, Petra's life is parallel to democracy in Brazil, and this makes her a co-protagonist of this national story, that goes from Juscelino to Bolsonaro. Here, in Apocalypse, the documentarist initially admits that she is not an expert on Paul or John of Patmos, and she wisely lets the story be told through the eyes of other figures. Some popular figures here and there get lost in a narrative that would gain more strength from their point of view, as the real highlight is the fearsome pastor Silas Malafaia. Using political terms to comment on your church, and religious terms to comment on democracy, Malafaia walks and rules at Alvorada, to the point of repeating Bolsonaro's speech, so that the president would not forget what he had to say, what Malafaia ordered him to say.

Four years of inadmistration are summarized, so that the projection does not become "look, gringo, how we suffered", but rather "look, Brasil, what you went through to get here", and by "here" I mean the real apocalypse.

I loved starting the Festival with this film, I would have liked to have enjoyed it more without the pressure of not catching the train to get home (obrigado, meu amor, por ter me ajudado, sem você isso não teria sido possível). Petra Costa, do more! Brazil will never tire of producing material for your filming (only criticism: Cabo Daciolo was missing, who made a cameo at the beginning of the film, back in 2016, and didn't even say "glória a deux!").

This is a very difficult but very necessary movie, which shows us upfront the destructive foolishness of allowing Christianity to dictate politics, and of enabling dangerous authoritarians to represent people.

Brazil has been - and still is - saddled with multitudes of delinquents with Christian discourse. There is no upside to that obscenity, and we all must strive to get rid of that disease.

The movie is a bit tedious, for sure. So much of what it shows we have painfully watched happens with our own eyes. But perhaps not enough people have the integrity to remember what has happened and how fiercely it must be stopped and corrected.

Petra Costa revisits political themes in her new documentary, Apocalypse in the Tropics. This time, the director and screenwriter sheds light on the historical rise of evangelical leaders in Brazilian politics and their impact on the Rule of Law.

Divided into five chapters, carefully inspired by the Bible, the film is a bold, urgent, and at times unsettling portrait of a pendulum nation-one that signals theocracy and flirts with dictatorship, yet boasts one of the most progressive constitutions in the world. An emblematic moment (and perhaps the insight that sparked the production of the film) occurs when the filmmaker is gifted a Bible by a democratically elected congressman inside the Chamber of Deputies.

Once again, Petra exposes her traumas (as she did in Elena and The Edge of Democracy) in a visceral yet beautiful, masterful, and deeply sensitive way.