Cine Fest Petrobras Brasil ‘09: Budapest

Readers are rightly skeptical of novels ostensibly written by famous people. Of course, the Brazilian music legend Chico Buarque is not a typical celebrity. He was in fact briefly imprisoned for an experimental play he wrote in the late 1960’s. While composing and performing some of biggest hits of bossa, samba, and MPB, Buarque also maintained his literary chops, writing internationally acclaimed plays and novels, like 2003’s Budapest, now adapted for the screen (trailer here) by director Walter Carvalho and screening tonight at the 2009 Cine Fest Petrobras Brasil film festival.

Budapest is a spectacular city, whose beauty remained undiminished by fifty-some years of Communist misrule. Though it is a world away from Rio, the city would exert an irresistible pull on José Costa following a chance stopover in the Hungarian capitol. Returning home from the annual ghost-writers convention, Costa is increasingly frustrated to see his clients celebrated for his words. Especially disturbing is the extent to which his newsreader wife seems charmed by one particular German expat customer currently enjoying a run on the bestseller list, thanks to his ghost-writing services.

Costa’s intimate relationship with language has been a blessing and a curse in his life, so immersing himself in Hungarian represents an attempt to hit the reset button. He finds himself deeply attracted to his divorced language teacher Kriszta, but is frustrated by both verbal and emotional language barriers. Though Kriszta claims Magyar is “the only language the Devil respects,” Costa soon masters it to the level that he again finds himself facing the same dilemma regarding the ownership of his words.

Ironically, Budapest’s story of a frustrated ghostwriter was in fact written by a celebrity, Buarque, who makes a surreal, non-musical cameo appearance. The film’s soundtrack actually features none of the author’s vocals, instead showcasing Leo Gandelman’s smoothly romantic saxophone and some effective string chamber music.

Leonardo Medeiros is a mass of insecure neuroses as José Costa (a.k.a. Zsoze Kósta), but not a particularly pleasant protagonist to spend time with. However, Gabriella Hámori brings intriguing depth to Kriszta, Costa’s demanding teacher and mercurial lover.

Carvalho effectively uses his picturesque Budapest locations, including a memorable visual of an enormous disassembled statue of Lenin, slowly drifting down the Danube on a garbage barge. While the M. Night Shyamalan-style ending is not very surprising, he maintains some sense of uncertainty by resisting the urge to fit each and every little piece together.

Caustically satirizing the book business, Budapest is a memorable film media professionals would particularly appreciate. Ultimately though, it is a strange, dreamlike love letter to the poetic power of words and one of the truly great cities of the world. It screens again tonight (8/7) as the Petrobras Brasil Fest concludes at the Tribeca Cinemas.

Cine Fest Petrobras Brasil ’09: Simonal—No One Knows How Tough It Was

In the 1960’s, every self-respecting Brazilian bachelor pad was stocked with vocalist Wilson Simonal’s records. However, in the 1970’s, he was shunned like a pariah. The music business is certainly hard and unforgiving, but a series of personal controversies made it especially so for Simonal, as co-directors Cláudio Manoel, Micael Langer, and Calvito Leal document in Simonal—No One Knows How Tough It Was (trailer here), currently screening in New York as part of the Cine Fest Petrobras Brasil film festival.

Likened to Sammy Davis, Jr. in the film, Simonal’s soulful vocals and commanding stage presence made him one of Brazil’s top all-around entertainers. He perfected a blend of orchestral pop, soul, and Brazilian musical styles known as “pilantragem.” However, having ruled the Brazilian charts for several years, Simonal was a bit concerned when his accountant Rafael Vivani informed him he was fast approaching bankruptcy. His response to Vivani would be rather uncharitably characterized by the accountant as kidnapping and extortion. Serious charges perhaps, but it was the unsubstantiated stories of Simonal’s complicity with the military authorities which emerged during the resulting trial that really derailed his career.

Suddenly, Simonal’s name was anathema to the Brazilian Left, which included pretty much the entire music scene. He would scuffle and mount comebacks for the remainder of his life, but he never reclaimed a fraction of his past glory. Following his death in 2000, his sons continued Simonal’s campaign to clear his name in the Brazilian media, and indeed, their participation in Tough can be considered part of that effort.

While Manoel, Langer, and Leal do not definitively “exonerate” Simonal, they clearly present him in a sympathetic light. They interview many of his close associates, even including a still somewhat annoyed Vivani. However, many of Simonal’s musical contemporaries, like Caetano Veloso and Chico Buarque, are notable for their absence. (At least Paulo Moura and Nelson Motta stepped up to the camera, as did Brazilian football hero Pelé.) Still, the film provides a great deal of musical and political context for the singer’s turbulent life and times.

Regardless of the mistakes Simonal made in life, his music sounds as smooth as a cool drink on a warm Brazilian beach. Though some repetitive talking head segments could stand a bit of a trim, Manoel, Langer, and Leal tell a compelling story, set to some groovy tunes. Tough screens again during Cine Fest Petrobras this Friday (8/7) at the Tribeca Cinemas.

Cine Fest Petrobras Brasil ‘09: Wandering Heart

Many sides of Caetano Veloso, arguably the greatest figure of Brazil's Tropicália musical revolution, have been presented on film. He appeared as the romantic balladeer performing in Pedro Almodovar’s Talk to Her. Often times, he is presented as an icon of artistic conscience or simply the spiritual godfather of Brazilian music in general, as in films like Carlos Saura’s Fados. However, director Fernando Grostein Andrade offers a different perspective on Veloso, capturing the musician-vocalist’s laidback sense of humor in his documentary Wandering Heart, which screens during the 2009 Cine Fest Petrobras Brasil Film Festival.

Veloso’s fans know him as a charismatic performer, but they might be surprised how funny he is in private. Sometimes he even cracks himself up, as when he tells a Lady Di anecdote that is incomprehensible due to his giggling. Still, the music heard throughout Heart is of the consistent high quality his listeners will expect.

Loosely structured, Heart essentially follows Veloso during the American media campaign for his first English language album, and a subsequent tour of Japan, where he seems to have remarkably camera-friendly fans. As a result, the audience gets to hear some of his renditions of American popular song (like the Berlin standard “Blue Skies”) in addition to his traditional favorites.

While Andrade by-and-large paints a portrait of an artist living the good life, late in the film he includes an oblique reference from Veloso regarding personal tragedies that adds considerable context to his apparent happy-go-lucky attitude. Ultimately, Veloso emerges as a genuinely likable individual, joking with fans and laughing off criticism, secure in his estimable place in the Brazilian music scene.

Though Heart’s running time barely exceeds one hour, Andrade uses nearly every second. Viewers should be advised to stay through the entire final credits, because they are liberally interspersed with further candid footage and a brief but complete performance.

Heart is an entertaining profile of Veloso that should please longtime fans and intrigue new listeners. Refreshingly, he comes across like a person who would be fun to hang with—a youthful sixty-six year-old, despite his arrest and period of exile during the years of the military regime. One of several music documentaries selected for this year’s Cine Fest Petrobras, Heart screens again at the Tribeca Cinemas on Friday night (8/7).

Cine Fest Petrobras Brasil ‘09: If I Were You 2

Brazilian music has captured the ears of the world. While its cinema has also found an international audience, it is the sound of bossas, sambas, and choros that most readily come to mind when Americans think of Brazilian culture. Shrewdly, this year’s Cine Fest Petrobras Brasil capitalizes on the popularity of Brazil’s musical heritage, programming a number of music documentaries and launching the festival with a free concert from Silvia Machete in Central Park.

There is something refreshingly politically incorrect about watching a performer wearing high heels and a decorative bird in her hair hand-roll and then smoke a cigarette while suggestively spinning a golden hula hoop, as her musicians solo. Silvia Machete has showmanship.

Backed by a combo of trombone, electric guitar, electric bass, and drums, Machete performed an energetic set of Brazilian pop flavored with forró and samba. Her saucy sense of humor comes through both in her stage banter and choice of repertoire, including a silky smooth pop rendition of “Sweet Child of Mine” and a heavy metal cover of “Ipanema.” If not a household name in America, Machete is a real entertainer who had the crowd up on its feet, kicking the festival off in style.

Evidently, every country periodically experiences a body-switching movie craze. We had films like Big and Vice Versa in the late 1980’s. Now Brazil is embracing Daniel Filho’s If I Were You and its aptly named sequel, If I Were You 2 (trailer here), which opened the proper film portion of the festival with a free screening following Machete’s concert.

Married couple Cláudio and Helena already exchanged bodies in the previous installment of the series. However, they seem to have forgotten the lessons of those four days spent in each others shoes. With their marriage teetering on the brink of divorce, simultaneously they mistakenly utter the same old jinxeroo that serves as the film title. Sure enough, once again they switch bodies, which makes their divorce proceedings some awkward.

Aside from a disastrous soccer match, number 2 actually seems somewhat restrained in its physical comedy. After all, they are no longer total strangers in their partner’s bodies. Still, the comedy is certainly broad, aimed at a popular audience. At least, Tony Ramos and Gloria Pires are game enough as the quarrelling body-switchers and Filho keeps the tone light and frothy. Best of all, since it includes a wedding scene, the Central Park audience got to hear “Oh What a Night” in Portuguese.

If 2 is definitely Brazilian popcorn cinema, well suited to a muggy summer outdoor screening. Cine Fest Petrobras continues through Friday at the Tribeca Cinemas, with a diverse bill of popular and art cinema from Brazil, including several music documentaries like Paulo Henrique Fontenelle’s Loki—Arnaldo Baptista.

Cine Fest Petrobras Brasil ‘09: Loki—Arnaldo Baptista

Arnaldo Baptista is the perfect artist for a Brazilian Behind the Music treatment. After leading Os Mutantes, a distinctly Brazilian rock band directly involved in the early development of Tropicália, he struggled with drugs and depression in the wake of their break up. It was good for the band while it lasted though—so good musicians and commentators are clearly resisting the temptation to call Os Mutantes the Brazilian Beatles throughout Paulo Henrique Fontenelle’s Loki—Arnaldo Baptista (trailer here), which screens during the upcoming Cine Fest Petrobras Brasil Film Festival.

Os Mutantes took American and British style rock ‘n roll, and added Brazilian musical elements. Their collaboration with Gilberto Gil is considered a seminal moment in the evolution of Tropicália, and laid a foundation for the less defined Música Popular Brasileira (MPB) that followed. Yet given the mop-toppish look Baptista sported during the band’s glory days, the shadow of the Fab Five looms over the Mutantes.

Still, Baptista is quick to distinguish his group from the Beatles, by virtue of the female vocalist Rita Lee. She also played flute and Theremin on Mutantes records, and eventually married Baptista. However, the band’s lurch into prog rock territory left her somewhat marginalized within the group, and probably contributed to their break-up. The excessive LSD abuse probably did not help much either.

Once Lee left, Os Mutantes essentially jumped the shark. Of course, Baptista’s career did not end with Os Mutantes, but he would spend many years in the wilderness. He recorded deeply personally solo records, including the one which lends its name to the documentary. Like Miles Davis and Tony Bennett, painting also became another creative outlet for Baptista, which Fontenelle uses as a touchstone motif in Loki.

Unlike most music documentaries, Fontenelle ends his film on a triumphant note, celebrating Baptista’s re-emergence as an international ambassador of Brazilian music. Along the way, he seems quite diplomatic when documenting the distinctly low points of Baptista’s post-Mutantes career. Though conventional in its approach, Fontenelle gleans some insightful commentary from Baptista’s musical colleagues, including Gil and Tom Zé, as well as most of Os Mutantes. While the Lee’s absence is conspicuous, it becomes clear her split from Baptista and the band was such that her participation just wasn’t going to happen.

It is easy to hear why Os Mutantes made such an impression from the audio samples liberally sprinkled throughout the film. Despite it playful psychedelia, a tune like “Panis et Circenses” has a hauntingly familiar quality that gets into your head after only one listening. However, it is frustrating listening to the talking head speak over vintage performance footage, like Gil’s stirring rendition of “Domingo no Parque” backed up by Os Mutantes and a big band with strings.

Accentuating the positive, Fontenelle clearly has a lot of affection for his subject. The resulting Loki is an informative introduction to the man and his music that Brazilphiles should definitely enjoy. It screens during Cine Fest Petrobras Brasil on Monday (8/3) and Thursday (8/6) at the Tribeca Cinemas.