I'll admit that this was not my initial choice for a Brazilian film. My first choice was a film that was essentially inaccessible without the help of local libraries, all of whom were closed at the time that I wanted to watch it. I suppose I could have waited for them to reopen, but I didn’t know how long it would be before that happened. Focusing on other countries would have been difficult since all the qualification matches for this silly event had been postponed as well. And let’s be honest regardless of how this crazy shit was going to play out, I knew that Brazil would eventually qualify, so it didn’t make any sense to further delay checking them off my list. Should I be criticized for not watching a Brazilian film earlier in this project? Perhaps, but at the time I honestly didn’t think it would matter that much. Going forward I’m going to have to hone my skill at anticipating global catastrophes which cause the fabric of society to fall apart at the seams.
In any case Brazil is a country with a rich and vast cinematic history, so finding another film wasn’t difficult at all. Also I can now take some morbid pleasure in the kismet that’s involved for this particular selection. If it hadn’t been for a global pandemic, which resulted in the deaths of millions of people, I might never have watched this film. Life is strange sometimes.
The reason for the selection of Carlos Diegues’s 1987 feature came down to the fact that I thought it looked interesting and it was available to access on the Internet. The website that I found it on was one devoted to ‘rare’ films, and trust me this film has truly earned such a distinction. In March of 1988 it was given a limited release in New York City, and at times would screen at the occasional film festival, but this appears to be the full extent of its foray into American theaters. The theatrical distribution was managed by the now defunct FilmDallas Pictures. The equally defunct New World Video, which arose in the early 1980s after Roger Corman sold his production company New World Pictures, handled the home video distribution and released a VHS version of the film in 1988. As of April of 2020, two libraries in the US were still holding the VHS copy of this film according to worldcat.org. They were the University of Illinois Library at Urbana-Champaign, and the Raymond Library at Yakima Valley College. I salute both of you for still retaining a copy of this film in your collections three decades later. For those of you who don’t live in the general vicinity of either Urbana, IL, or Yakima, WA, a VHS copy is also available for rental at Facets, or by purchase at online retailers like Amazon. Currently the film can also be streamed at Tubi.
For years I’ve been contemplating the notion of cinematic hooks, moments or elements within a certain film that generate enough interest for one to become emotionally and/or intellectually invested in what it consequently reveals. After my initial viewing of Um Trem para as Estrelas it struck me as a film that was completely devoid of such devices. There’s nothing that really grabbed me or even gracefully invited me in. The film just sort of happened as I watched it and presented what could have been a fascinating look at Rio de Janeiro in a rather cold, stale, and unassuming manner.
This is not to say that the film was completely absent of any entertaining spirit or idiosyncratic charm. But whatever modest humor and whimsy that it contained, it never felt particularly compelling. For instance the combination of saxophone playing with Fausto Fawcett’s unique ‘singing’ style on “Chineza Video-Maker” could be seen to the uninitiated as an attempt at comedy, but yet it was played straight with a great deal of sincerity and earnestness. The same can also be said for the subplot involving the young messianic village girl which seemed designed to shock its audience, but which never really achieved much of a jolt. The film presented an eccentric side to humanity in a way that made it seem commonplace and mundane.
Of course it didn’t help that the film got off to a slow, tepid start in which it was hindered by its plodding pace and a very noticeable lack of chemistry between lead actor Guilherme Fontes and his character’s love interest, Eunice, played by Ana Beatriz Wiltgen. In their scenes together the cadence of their line deliveries was plagued by awkward silences and stilted acting. Not only that but in the presence of Wiltgen, Fontes played his role in such a youthful, indulgent, and idealistic trance that he made the film seem schmaltzy. Fontes’s acting though was significantly better when paired up with other performers from the film’s excellent supporting cast.
Milton Gonçalves was easily the standout performer here, as an ill-tempered, intimating cop who still managed to show a colorful, vehement, and trenchant commitment to his job. His gruff, no-nonsense demeanor was played with so much personality that it offered the film some modest humor. Gonçalves also effectively grounded the film into some semblance of reality that sharply pitted him against the more idyllic approach to life that Fontes had established for his character Vini. When paired with Gonçalves, Fontes was able to make Vini appear as legitimately fearful and apprehensive. Betty Faria as Vini’s mother also added some wonderful acerbic charm to the film and had a similar effect on Fontes as an actor. But beyond that there was something about the way she changed into her striptease outfit that seemed emblematic of the film’s overall tone. Faria displayed a certain brazenness with how she played the role and yet it was executed with little fuss or excessive drama. In this film nothing was made to seem taboo. Zé Trindade on the other hand aimed for comic relief, in the role of Eunice’s father. He played the part in a cartoonish, jovial manner that was delightfully pleasant with the small doses of screen time that he was given. Míriam Pires went for more of a zany basket case persona and wasn’t particularly interesting during her one showcase sequence with Fontes.
Taumaturgo Ferreira I thought gave one of the better performances in the film despite playing one of its more lackluster roles. As Vini’s brother Dreamy, Ferreira would often portray the character in a charming, happy-go-lucky manner, prompted by Dreamy’s own idealistic ambition of a better life in the United States. And yet Ferreira’s small tinge of somber regret and frustration during his ‘confetti of lights’ monologue made Dreamy the most complex and well-rounded of all the characters in the film. Ferreira also provided a lot for Fontes to play off of. Fontes was able to show some mild anger and annoyance at Dreamy’s get rich schemes, in addition to capturing a wonderful visage of shock and horror when dealing with Dreamy’s demise in the subway. José Wilker and Daniel Filho also contributed solid work in minor roles that didn’t offer either an opportunity to have much of an impact on the film. If there was one performance from a minor role that was worth mentioning, it was Yolanda Cardoso, who played Santinha’s aunt with a great deal of passion and conviction. And yet none of this helped the film avoid its most glaring weakness, that being the acting of Fontes in the lead role.
The problem here is that Vini was staged to act as the unifying bond for all of the film’s narrative cul-de-sacs while being its’ least interesting character. Fontes was often a mere straight man, relegated to react to the more offbeat characters that he interacted with. The most interesting thing about the character was his talent at playing the saxophone, which the film went to great effort not to focus on. The man behind the music simply wasn’t that compelling, and its a notion that was cemented when we see Fontes clapping at Faria’s burlesque show like an utter dork.
The film’s main plot offered little intrigue and seemed to exist for the utilitarian purpose of procuring a more extensive, probing look into the depths of Rio’s underworld culture. Lieutenant Freitas’s investigation largely took place off camera and its conclusion felt arbitrarily induced in order to bring the film to a satisfying ending. The structure of the narrative was very episodic and its movement felt more circular than forward. However once it settled into the search for Eunice, it had a certain beat and rhythm all its own. Its direction felt free-form and casual, with a subtle intent to absorb the essence of its locale and its people. While its pace could be meticulous at times the journey itself was not boring. The narrative managed a modicum of intrigue and when greater depth was needed it could rely on the occasional interlude of saxophone music, which at times made Um Trem para as Estrelas feel like a slice of cinematic jazz.
As for the camerawork, it largely employed an intimate approach that established an emphasis on the acting, as seen in a rather compelling close-up shot of Fontes when being interrogated by Gonçalves over his marijuana joint. The preceding shot of Fontes cowering in a corner was also intriguing given that the distortion from the upward angle added some texture to the relationship between these two characters. Generally I thought highly of the framing and perspectives used in this film, not to mention its great use of motion. There was a certain grace in the pull back shot at the shop that went from Fontes entering the storefront to Wiltgen working on the upper level of the store, not to mention the vertical pan shot of the grocer’s market which set the stage for a scene between Fontes and Ferreira. Further enjoyment came from the creativity of the shot in which Fontes wrote the name ‘Nicinha’ on the window of a subway train as it made its way into the next station. I also found favor with the overall imagery that was captured. For instance there was a sharpness in the shot of Fontes walking towards the market against the dark blue hues of the night sky that made it memorable.
Still the cinematography was a microcosm of the film as a whole in that it clearly possessed some talent and charm that inexplicably didn’t quite distinguish itself with a great deal of artistic merit. The overall approach was so varied and unfocused that no overarching style could be discerned. The use of motion with the cameras was offset by standard static jump cutting. The use of intimacy in the framing was balanced by a number of establishing shots that offered a more panoramic look at Rio, hindering the pace of the film. The filmmakers stymied the pace even further with the slow-motion ‘rice and beans’ montage, which when compared to the rest of the film felt oddly out of place with its cloying sentimentality. I also felt that the film too often invoked the bland commercialism that one might associate with the era in which it was made. An early shot of Fontes walking down a busy street with innocuous bass-driven dance music playing in the back ground had the feel of a Coca-Cola advert. Granted its dated, late 1980s vibe may allow the film to seem more strange and mysterious than it did 30 years ago. At best this is a curious time capsule relic for those who want an introduction into 1980s Brazilian culture, but as a film it’s only modestly engaging and generally just lacking a certain spark in order to make it seem special.