Le Dieu noir et le diable blond

Like Karl Marx's Communist Manifesto, Deus e O Diabo Na Terra Do Sol, (translated: God and the Devil in Land of Sun) doesn't bother mincing words when addressing what's wrong with the world. As Communism swept through South America and Cuba in the 50's and 60's, Socialist film-making enjoyed its greatest hey dey and, amongst those films, DeODNTDS is remembered as one of the best. Whereas films like Mikhail Kalatozov's I Am Cuba were unabashed agents of propaganda, bashing Capitalism with a hammer-like heavy hand, Glauber Rocha's efforts were hidden behind the symbolism of one man's Chaucer-esque journey into an unknown fate.

The journey is Manuel's, an impoverished farmer who is radicalized after killing his boss who (like evil capitalists do) attempted to cheat Manuel of his wages. Manuel then finds God, in the form of a self-proclaimed Saint named Sebastian. Before long, Sebastian's blood thirsty spell over Manuel is broken by Rosa, Manuel's dutiful (and long-suffering) wife. But soon after they're free from Sebastian's grip, Manuel is seduced by the charms of a charismatic and similarly blood thirsty bandit named Corisco. Such is the way with Manuel, doomed to follow, and it is this theme that strangles the life out of Rocha's film.

DeODNTDS is a scathing indictment of not only capitalism, but also of religion and society as a whole. In this world, man is desperately out of balance with nature (and thus himself), wishing (and prophesying) for the land to turn to sea and the sea to turn to land. These fruitless dreams are a constant reminder that man must look inward, to find strength from his own heart and hands. The message is unmistakable, as stark as the black and white imagery Rocha bombards us with, but the trouble with DeODNTDS is that it makes it's point early on is compelled to repeat it over and over again, not unlike a mantra.The inevitable fate of Manuel is set up mid-way through the first act, when bounty hunter Antonio das Mortes is hired by church and city officials to kill Saint Sebastian and put an end to his proletariat uprising (which threatens the establishment aka the money making machine). But das Mortes' hunt is sidetracked and ultimately stalled to such a degree that by the time he and Manuel come face to face, no real stakes remain. In the process of pitting these two against one another, Rocha's film gets bogged down in dogmatic digressions that drag out for what feels like an eternity. By the time the credits roll, the momentum of the powerful first act is lost, and instead of challenging its audience's socio-political allegiances, Deus eO Diablo Na Terra Do Sol merely challenges you to stay awake.

Glauber Rocha just 25 when he made this and I was only seven year younger although I had never watched this before but maybe then I might have loved it more but now I find it rather difficult. Clearly I can see that it is an amazing idea but punishing to have done this in Monte Santo, Bahia this drought-ridden hinterland of the North-East of Brazil. Manoel has killed his cheating ranch owner and then his mother dies and he and his wife go off to follow a self proclaimed saint. It is slow, and Christ like but also much violence. Although there is even more to come. It is difficult watching Manoel climb up the mountain on his knees and with a 20 kilo stone on his head and apparently the actor decided he should really do it. I found that during this part I thought of Bunuel with Simon of the Desert (1965) and his man on a column. Towards the end with the last few people moving between each other and I thought of Michelangelo Antonioni. Now and again I wondered about Jodorowsky's El Topo (1970), however this film is on its own and even if it is a bit slow it is surely worth a look.

Nothing wrong with a movie that is being a bit slower and different, as long as it fascinates. And this movie does that well.

It's an unusual movie, with an unusual approach and story. This is not a slick Hollywood movie here but an artistic South-American one. It doesn't really follow any familiar movie rules but having said that, this movie at the same time still remains a perfectly accessible one.

Even though there are of course some deeper meanings behind it all, the movie never feels too serious or heavy handed. The movie actually still manages to entertain as well, which is for most part thanks to its very lively characters, who especially come to live in its second half. Most people seem to have most problems with the movie its second half but I actually do think that this was the strongest and most intriguing part of the entire movie, since it seemed to focus more purely on its characters and less on its story, that is a complicated one to follow and completely understand.

What I foremost love about this movie is that it's being shot like a western, while it's actually a totally different genre movie, set in Brazil. The cinematography, directing, characters and such still make this movie really feel and look like a good old spaghetti western.

Due to its directing approach and way of storytelling this is a very visual orientated movie. Even though it can be a slow movie at times, its visuals still manages to fully keep you interested throughout. It's black & white cinematography does ensure this well.

No need and reason to overpraise this movie but it remains simply a good and special one to watch.

7/10

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This film begins wonderfully, brilliantly shot and keenly acted- but right as you're sure it's coming to a close, the music suddenly runs uptempo and the narrator says the equivalent of "Wait, there's more!" and the second segment of the film destroys any credibility the first might have established. The director's portrayal of the desert's harshness lends logically to the lunacy of the characters- but Rosa's actions in the second half seem completely unmotivated, as if the actors ran out of script and just start making things up out of boredom in front of the camera. Laudable attempts at Eisenstein-style multiple-repeat editing are a good idea but using them to cover the low-budget nature of the action scenes is not. Overall worth seeing, but I must warn you that I fell asleep towards the end.

At just 25, Brazilian director Glauber Rocha directed Black God, White Devil, now considered one of the most important pictures to ever come out of Brazil, and a key entry into the Cinema Novo movement. Combining elements of Sergio Leone, Italian neo-realism, and Soviet propaganda such as the work of Sergei Eisenstein, Rocha created a brutal, grainy world inhabited by suicidal religious fanatics, wandering hit men, and psychopathic bandits. From the opening shots of rotting animal corpses and the endless Brazilian sertão, Rocha portrays a grim social realism, one of the key aspects of Cinema Novo.

Ranch-hand Manuel (Geraldo Del Rey) lives in poverty with his wife Rosa (Yona Magalhaes). Fed up with his situation, he goes into town to sell his stock, only to have his boss try to cheat him out of his money, so Manuel kills him with a machete. Fleeing the authorities, he falls in with maniacal preacher Sebastiao (Lidio Silva), who leads Manuel, Rosa and his other followers on a killing spree. Circumstances lead to Manuel leaving the cause, and joining up with famous bandit Corisco (Othon Bastos), who also leads the couple on an orgy of meaningless violence and thievery. But shadowy gun-for-hire Antonio das Mortes (Mauricio do Valle), having been paid by the church and a poltician, is hot on Corisco's tail.

The film very much reminded me of Cormac McCarthy's astounding novel Blood Meridian, where the sheer brutality of the violence played as a metaphor for a society gone sour and a world intent of self-destruction. Like Blood Meridian's The Kid, Manuel and Rosa follow blindly to whichever cause they see a glimmer of hope in. They fail to see the lunacy of Sebastiao's behaviour, and it's only at the point where he stabs a baby in the heart that their eyes seem to be opened, only for them to shack up with the gibbering Corisco, a man who speaks like a poet but doesn't seem to be able to comprehend his own existence. It is at this point, about two-thirds in, that the film seems to lose momentum and becomes somewhat of an unfathomable mess.

But it isn't just the social-political ponderings that make Black God, White Devil so memorable, it also has style in abundance. The camera-work is shaky and urgent at times, full of character close-ups from awkward angles, but it also uses fast editing reminiscent of Eisenstein's greatest works. Similar to Battleship Potemkin's (1925) Odessa steps sequence, the Monte Santo chapel massacre at the hands of Antonio das Mortes is simply electrifying. It is das Mortes' presence that leads to the moments that evoke the work of Sergio Leone, wrapping the shady anti-hero in moody atmosphere like Clint Eastwood's Man With No Name. It's a dangerous mixture of conflicting styles that works beautifully, making the film beautiful and cool, occasionally horrifying, and undoubtedly important. It's just a shame it doesn't manage to keep up with the absolutely astonishing opening two-thirds.