Margaret Mead ’17: Brasilia—Life After Design

Oscar Niemeyer was probably the only hardcore Communist who could claim he built a Catholic cathedral. He also designed a church in Belo Horizonte, but the Cathedral of Brasília ironically became one of his most recognizable works. For the atheist architect, it was more about location. He designed all the public buildings in Brasília, the utopian new capital city plopped down in the middle of the Brazilian desert in 1960. How livable do residents find a city born of ideological fervor fifty years after its founding? The answer is a decided “eh,” judging from the resident feedback recorded in Bart Simpson’s Brasília: Life After Design (trailer here), which screens during the 2017 Margaret Mead Film Festival.

Brasília is a UNESCO World Heritage site, so case closed, right? Not so fast. Niemeyer’s monumental architecture is striking from afar, but living with it is a different matter. Indeed, you can see his Communist roots in those massive structures that dwarf individuals, like ants on a horizon. From an aerial view, the housing projects are appealingly geometrical, but they are rather drab up close.

Yet, according to residents’ complaints, it is Lúcio Costa’s urban planning that was particularly problematic. They claim the micro neighborhoods are effectively closed off and segregated, making social interaction difficult. Apparently, it is hard to meet people in Brasília, so many students and young professionals just while away the time roller-blading around the expansive public plazas.

It is a shame Bart Simpson (insert your own Simpsons joke here) never really challenges Niemeyer as an architect who built to intimidate or for his friendships with brutal dictators, including Fidel Castro and Hugo Chavez. Instead, he offers us an immersive walking tour. Although this has the ostensive virtue of being nonjudgmental, is misleading in practice. The takeaway periodically peeking out of the doc is that Brasília is an impressive sight to gawk at as a visitor, but it has a wearying effect on residents.

Simpson tries to mix in several slice-of-life observational vignettes, but they do not exactly liven up the film. Frankly, viewers who just want to take in the architecture of Brasília would prefer the silent gaze of Heinz Emigholz’s commentary-free documentaries. The film is premised on a very insightful question—can average people live in someone else’s ideologically charged conception of utopia—but Simpson is rather lax at chasing down the answers, leaving the promise of the film unfulfilled. Anyone interested in architecture and Brazilian culture will leave Brasília: Life After Design wishing there was more to it when it screens this Saturday night (10/21), as part of this year’s Margaret Mead Film Festival at the American Museum of Natural History.

That Man from Rio: Belmondo Globe-Trots

Rio gets top billing, but it will be Brasília most viewers will remember from this classic Jean-Paul Belmondo escapade. One has to wonder what unreconstructed Marxist architect Oscar Niemeyer thought of his utopian capitol city being portrayed as the stomping ground of a wealthy oligarch, but it sure looks great on-screen. Viewers’ will get a North by Northwest perspective on his monumental buildings in Philippe de Broca’s freshly restored, Oscar-nominated That Man from Rio (trailer here), which opens this Friday at Film Forum, in honor of its fiftieth anniversary.

Adrien Dufourquet is not really from Rio. He hails from a French working class province. Dufourquet planned to spend his week’s leave from the army with his high maintenance kind of-sort of fiancée, Agnès Villermosa, but as soon as he arrives in Paris, she is abducted. Clearly, this is the work of the same gang that heisted a rare Amazonian statuette from the Musée de L’Homme and also kidnapped the curator, Professor Norbert Catalan, an old friend of Villermosa’s late father.

Of course, the Parisian cops are worse than useless, but Dufourquet is a tougher cat to shake. In the more innocent early 1960s (before the proliferation of PLO hijackings and September 11^th), Dufourquet is able to bluff his way onboard the transatlantic flight taking Villermosa and her abductors to Rio, but nobody will listen to him once they arrive. Even though he is essentially a fugitive himself, Dufourquet continues to pursue his fiancée, with the help of several lucky turns and Sir Winston, a shoeshine boy from the favela.

It turns out there are three “Maltec” statues that might hold the key to an even greater treasure. Catalan acquired the Musée’s on a trip with Villermosa’s father and their backer, De Castro, a Bond villain-looking financier (played by Thunderball’s Adolfo Celi), who seems to own the entire city of Brasília. (Frankly, he turns out to be a more interesting character than Niemeyer might have preferred.)

One can maybe see seeds of the future French spy spoof franchise OSS 117 in Rio, but Dufourquet is far more resourceful and resilient than Jean Dujardin’s broadly comedic alter ego. His sequences shimmying around the ledges of the Brasília construction sites also bring to mind the Hitchcock classic, whereas the peaceful scenes of respite with the poor but hospitable favela residents suggest the inspiration of Marcel Camus’ international smash hit Black Orpheus. As possible influences go, those two 1959 films are pretty good ones.

With Rio, Belmondo was well into the process of transitioning from nouvelle vague icon to true superstar. To that end, he does not simply rely on his on-screen charm, giving a surprisingly physical performance as Dufourquet, both in terms of the action and slapsticky comedy. He is not afraid to look slightly ridiculous or get a little muddy for the sake of our entertainment. He also has okay chemistry with the somewhat icy Françoise Dorléac, Catherine Deneuve’s sister, who would tragically die in a car accident a little more than three years after the release of Rio.

De Broca keeps the energy level cranked up and capitalizes on the incredible Brazilian locations. There is quite a bit to see in the film, beyond the Dufourquet’s madcap romp. Good, breezy fun, That Man from Rio is recommended for fans of Belmondo and modernist architecture when Cohen Media Group’s 2K restoration opens this Friday (8/22) at New York’s Film Forum.

Cine Fest Petrobras Brasil ‘10: Oscar Niemeyer—Life is a Blow

He could be called the Bossa Nova Le Corbusier. Adapting the International Style to Brazil, he was innovator in the use of reinforced concrete to create gentle curves and grand plazas. Oscar Niemeyer’s buildings have become icons of the Latin American country, so it is understandable why Cine Fest Petrobras Brasil chose to close the New York leg of the festival with Fabiano Maciel’s documentary Oscar Niemeyer—Life is a Blow (trailer here) last night at Central Park’s Summer Stage.

Niemeyer was not just inspired by Le Corbusier, he collaborated with him on one of the world’s best known buildings—the UN Building. It really should have been Niemeyer’s gig alone, but he allowed the French modernist to worm his way into it. Though his work can be seen around the world, arguably his most important buildings are in the Brazilian capitol of Brasilia, including the National Congress and the Cathedral of Brasilia.

While the wavy lines of Niemeyer’s structures might remind some viewers of Frank Gehry, the Brazilian’s curving concrete is more expressive and functional, never indulging in Post-Modernism for its own sake. Indeed, his use of mosaic murals demonstrates his connection to tradition and his desire to development a uniquely Brazilian architecture.

We hear quite a bit from Niemeyer in Blow, including some odd political diatribes that pass unchallenged by Maciel. Indeed, the architect seems have a marked preference for autocratic strongmen, which is perhaps understandable, considering how many of his commissions have come from government decrees. As one interview subject archly remarked: “Niemeyer has always opposed right angles and capitalism.” That may have worked for his career, thanks to his government patronage, but both are necessary in real life.

Regardless of Niemeyer’s problematic Marxism (at a time when the world intelligentsia was well aware of the crimes done in its name), his buildings are incredible. Blow showcases them well, giving viewers a sense of the flowing spaces and character of his most important structures. It is effectively underscored by an original jazz soundtrack featuring the likes of João Donato and bossa guitarist Felipe Poli. Hip listeners would also be interested to see Chico Buarque appear in a non-musical capacity, speaking to Niemeyer’s relation to Brazilian artists in other disciplines. However, despite the power of its visuals, the cerebral nature of the film and the gentle sounds of its score might have been lost on some of the Summer Stage crowd.

Respectful to a fault, Blow makes it clear the less Niemeyer is heard and the more his structures are seen, the greater viewer appreciation will be for his striking body of work. It closed a strong slate of films at Cine Fest Petrobras Brasil in New York, which now proceeds to Vancouver.