I have seen one other film by this guy, Deus e o Diabo na Terra do Sol, and was completely taken aback at the time: Soviet notions of montage spilled helter skelter over the sunbaked Brazilian plains into the most deranged onslaught of rigorously polemic kitsch. Marx sloganeering via Brecht filmed by Eisenstein and Welles. You either bowed our early or agreed to be annihilated in the cinematic rave.
This has more serious merit I believe, is more pensive, introspective work. Marx is puzzled over. Godard is stripped of hip and ironic complacency. Eisenstein is understood as more than blistering agitprop and in context of the new world the cinematic eye aspires to create. Is such a world worth the effort to materialize? And is it going to be as envisioned?
I recommend it on just the principle that it's a political film promoting discussion, involvement, examination. This is a rare thing to have, especially these days when film consistently shies away from the great turmoils and viewers - understandably so - are becoming increasingly bitter and desensitized to any political involvement that may change the world. Oh we keep voting, but worst of all we have come to terms that it doesn't really matter which way we do, haven't we?
No, this is political work from a time when it was still thought and anticipated that the world could be changed in one lifetime and film could be a tool to assist and herald change. The plot is about a young artist - poet and journalist - who will have to surmise his place and level of involvement in a complex narrative about a nation's past and future strife, the surrogate self of a filmmaker looking for the same.
That narrative is every bit as 20th century Latin American history has affirmed it. On one side there is flag, cross, the capital, the military-secret service complex, bureaucracy, control over state media, counter-revolution. On the other side there are workers' rights, agrarian reforms, redistribution of wealth, democracy, populism, propaganda, socialist rhetorics, the world revolution. The two sides compete for the gubernatorial elections of a fictional county called El Dorado, after the mythical 'Lost City of Gold' that obsessed conquistadors. The modern El Dorado is poor and downtrodden, its people meek and submissive, but still a coveted land for conquest and control. Oil, coal, diamonds, uranium, these are the new riches of mythical proportions.
All told, it's not really hard to discern who is the main recipient of Marxist ire here. Rocha gleefully tears through caricatures but moves on to make another point. Are the latter really ready and able to govern? Do they have a plan beyond bold proclamations? Are they backed by less insidious corporate interests?
Naturally our young poet is puzzled, having been involved with both parties. The film mirrors this inner strife: a non-linear narrative fragmented through many visual cut-ups, hand-held shots, New Wave dissonance, artificiality, internal landscape, poetry recitations, theatrical grandiloquence. Not all of it works, but it's translucent when it does.
As far as political-minded New Wave goes, I believe this has near as much merit as the films of Yoshishige Yoshida from Japan, Eros+Massacre and Heroic Purgatory.
Politics of the region are more complex and subtle than Rocha delves into. Shucks. A key insight into what this is, is the framing device: a dream of delirious death.
