Music + Film Brazil ’20: Gilberto Gil Anthology Vol. 1

He was there on the Bahia Tropicalia scene with Caetano Veloso, Maria Bethania, and Gal Costa. Gilberto Gil would also join Veloso first in prison and then in exile. Fortunately, it didn’t last forever. Gil even became the Brazilian Minister of Culture, even though he was underwhelmed by what he felt was a paltry salary (by his standards). Now a revered Brazilian musical figure, Gil looks back on his early recordings in Lula Buarque de Hollanda’s Gilberto Gil Anthology Vol. 1, which screens as part of Cinema Tropical’s online 2020 edition of Music + Film: Brazil.

The only commentary we hear during Anthology (the first of three projected volumes, intended to culminate around Gil’s 80^th birthday) is that from Gil himself. His reminiscences are intimate and relaxed. At times, he addresses politics, especially “Lingua do Pe,” the song he wrote in hipster “Pig Latin” as a means of circumventing the military’ censorship (to keep things simple, they banned the entire tune), but he never leans in too deeply. Frankly, the biggest news for real deal Brazilian music fans is the revelation Gil wrote “If I want to Talk to God” for Roberto Carlos, but he declined to perform it. (For those who do not know the Brazilian crooner, this would sort of be like Wayne Newton turning down a song from Prince.)

Music + Film Brazil: Andre Midani—An Insider’s Story of Brazilian Music

André Midani throws amazing dinner parties, but apparently, that’s what you get when you know everyone who is anyone in Brazilian music. Over a number of casual get-togethers, Midani tells anecdotes from his career as a record executive in between laidback performances from his famous friends in the feature documentary cut of Andrucha Waddington & Mini Kerti’s miniseries, André Midani—An Insider’s Story of Brazilian Music (trailer here), which screens as part of the Music + Film Brazil film series at Symphony Space.

Midani was originally a Jewish Syrian who came to Brazil via an extremely circuitous route. As it happens, Brazil was not his intended destination, but he liked it so much during a stopover, he decided to stay. We can’t really blame him for not knowing Portuguese under the circumstances, but it made finding a job difficult. Yet, somehow, he was able to talk his way into a meeting with the president of Odeon Records and the rest is music history.

When we say Midani has famous friends, we are not kidding around here. Those you will hear laughing and playing at Midani’s comfortable home include Caetano Velsoso, Gilberto Gil, Erasmo Carlos, Marisa Monte, Jorge Ben (Jor), Marcos Valle, Roberto Menescal, and Carlos Lyra. In addition, a small army of Brazilian rock stars who haven’t crossed over to the extent their Bossa Nova, Tropicalia, and MPB colleagues have also duly pay homage to Midani. Plus, we see some archival footage of artists Midani nurtured, but sadly are no longer with us, such as Nara Leão.

There is some great music here, particularly the jams featuring Jorge Ben Jor, Monte, and Gil. The latter is a near constant in the film, appearing with just about every informal ensemble. Fittingly, he gets to take the out chorus, performing a poignant solo rendition of “Não Tenho Medo da Morte.”

In a way, Insider’s Story is good way to sum up the Music + Film Brazil series, because it connects all the various styles and subjects of the previous films (yes, Tim Maia is in here too). The Midani doc is just a pleasure to spend time with, because it is so relaxed, yet filled with joie de vivre, much like This is Bossa Nova, hosted by Lyra and Menescal. The fact that so many artists worked with Midani, ranging from Tom Jobim to Os Mutantes, is pretty darn impressive, but he seems pretty grounded for a guy who can have a former Minister of Culture come play at his house whenever he wants. Highly recommended for fans of Brazilian music, in all its many varieties, André Midani—An Insider’s Story of Brazilian Music screens tomorrow night (4/10) as the Music + Film Brazil film series continues at Symphony Space.

Rio, I Love You—But I Know You Can Do Better

Rio de Janeiro has the world’s coolest sidewalks. You can also hear terrific and wonderfully diverse music performed throughout the city. With that many musicians, there must be a million stories in the Naked Rio. That is why the sketchy, fragmentary nature of the latest installment of the “Cities of Love” anthology franchise is so frustrating. Even the romance is under-quota in a bunch of people’s Rio, I Love (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Despite the Rio setting, most of the characters are American, British, or Australian, so do not waste time looking for a Seu Jorge walk-on. It isn’t there. However, the opening “Dona Fulana” is a bit of an unfortunate outlier, featuring a Brazilian cast in the dubious tale of a plucky old woman who explains to her respectable grandson who much happier she is on the streets than living a life of hypocrisy. Remember that next time the UHO scam artists hit you up for money on the subway.

Paolo Sorrentino’s “La Fortuna” sort of works as a mordant little twist noir, but it never really establishes why the wheelchair bound husband has reason to believe things will work out as they do. Still, it shows off a side of Emily Mortimer we rarely get to see. Arguably, Fernando Meirelles’ “A Musa” is the most successful segment. It also happens to be entirely dialogue free. Stephen Elliott’s “Acho que Estou Apaixonado,” a tale of an Australian movie star recklessly climbing Sugarloaf Mountain is less accomplished, but at least it is fully developed and provides some lovely scenery, along with a bizarre Bebel Gilberto cameo.

John Turturro’s deliberately overwrought “Quando não há Mais Amor” just doesn’t work, even with the French retro-pop stylings of Vanessa Paradis. Guillermo Arriaga’s “Texas” falls nearly as flat, but throws in an element of exploitation for additional discomfort. Im Sang-soo’s “O Vampiro do Rio” has tons of style and promises great potential, but it is over practically as soon as it starts, as if the producers could only secure him a twenty-four-hour visa. Likewise, Carlos Saldanha’s “Pas de Deux” is lovely to look at, but maddeningly fragmentary. Dittos for José Padilha’s “Inútil Paisagem,” which has some nice looking shots Wagner Moura hang-gliding and not much else.

At least, Nadine Labaki closes the film on a relative high note, perhaps because there is actually a concept behind “O Milagre.” Of course, the notion of Harvey Keitel appearing as himself is a strong foundation. While in Rio filming a ridiculously melodramatic Thorn Birds rip-off with Labaki, Kietel is convinced to literally play God over the phone with a terminally ill boy. As usual, Keitel is highly watchable and he develops good chemistry with Labaki and the rest of the cast and crew of the film-within-the-film.

This is the third of producer Emmanuel Benbihy’s city anthologies, following Paris and New York, with Tbilisi already on deck. Frankly, the Georgian capital seems like an unlikely setting for the frothy series, but maybe that is a good thing. Hopefully, all the contributing filmmakers came with fully conceived concepts ready to go. In contrast, after watching Rio, we can only guess many of the constituent directors assumed the city would inspire them and just decided to wing it. Still, it all sounds great, thanks to the music of Gilberto Gil, Chico Buarque, Celso Fonseca, Bebel Gilberto, Cartola, Maucha Adnet, and masters like Jobim and Villa-Lobos. Seriously, you might try watching it with your eyes closed. The soundtrack is highly recommended, but the film is way too inconsistent and patchy. For diehard Brazilophiles, Rio, I Love You opens this Friday (4/15) in New York, at the Landmark Sunshine.