Linha de Passe 2008

Walter Salles’ eyes are the increasingly those we see Brazil through over here. Central Station (Central do Brasil) and City of God (Cidade de Deus) have cast an awkward shadow over Brazilian cinema as new directors must try to shuffle out from under it or cope with selling their films internationally on their acclaim. His 2008 offering is in the same mould, doing for São Paolo what City of God did for Rio- making it a far less tasty tourist offering, showing the poverty and the crime it seems the city’s inhabitants must embrace to survive.

However Salles’ demonstrations of the horrors of Latin American poverty are starting to turn critics away. In Diarios de Motocicleta (Salles’s 2004 offering) Gael Garcia Bernal’s Christ-like, young Che Guevara’s speech on a united America (it is actually two and a bit continents, ya know) left plenty cold. Here the simplistic divides of the four brothers at the heart of Linha de Passe has rung as hollow, for many. It seems petty crime, football or evangelism are the only options since Che fell flat. It is a little sad too to see that these extracurricular activities do serve as a replacement for character development in the three oldest brothers, especially when compared to their pregnant mother, beautifully portrayed by the only professional actor of the bunch, Sandra Corveloni and the frankly cute as a button youngest, Reginaldo (played by Kaique Jesus Santos).

Salles uses his familiar casting techniques, as well as themes, in Linha de Passe (roughly translated as Pass Line which I assume is something to do with football but frankly haven’t a sodding clue). Four unknowns play the brothers, while Corveloni is a veteran of only a handful of short films. His previous films, stars aside, have tended to utilise whoever lived where they were filming. There’s no let down performance among them but there is equally no question that Corveloni deserved her best actress award at Cannes, and hopefully will be seen again very soon.

Her character as soon to be mother of five, each to a different father, anchors the actions of the boys who really drive what narrative there is. The film is structured in monthly chapters of sorts, as each boy struggles to support themselves, their mother (who works as a maid to the wealthy) and in one case their own children. Dario’s struggle from layabout to professional football tops and tails the film though it is sadly the most predictable of the tales, complete with redemptive goals after heart-breaking moments on the bench, a father-like coach and a splendidly silly drug sequence with an almost Reefer Madness style bit of peer pressure when all seems lost.

By contrast the story of preacher and gas station attendant Dinho, the son who we are teasingly told is already reformed, and his sudden fall from grace and ritualised redemption is incredibly engaging, with some interesting reflections on faith and sly digs at the Pentecostalism and Evangelism that have swept into Brazil over the last 20 years, as the Catholic population has drastically dropped. His story also allows for some beautiful photography outside of São Paolo, although characteristically the urban photography is both grim and lovely, giving you the slight need to wash the dust and smog from your face after the film.

Also in a familiar vein for those loyal to Salles is Gustavo Santaolalla’s wonderful if typical soundtrack. His sound may be distinctive but the grime of the poor end of a Latin American city or the wide expanses of the Andes suit his material like tea and toast, like Ximxim and farofa, like Mexican agrarianists and moustaches.

And frankly the soundtrack, the photography, the performances and exceptional pacing do save this film from any sort of evangelism of its own. It’s not City of God. But then again, only City of God was City of God, and this shouldn’t be swept under the rug because of it.

Further Watching

City of God (Cidade de Deus) 2002

In case all those praises I was singing went over your head check out this beautiful tale of young men, big guns and a very distressed chicken in the Favelas. Sadly missed out on a BAFTA the same year as Y tu Mama También. The US Academy didn’t notice either of them.

Bus 174 (Ônibus 174) 2002

Someone steals a bus here too, though they’re not nearly as cute as Reginaldo. An exceptional documentary about the poor of Rio and a hostage situation caught live on television. Another one overlooked by the Academy. Where were they in 2002?

The Motorcycle Diaries (Diarios de Motocicleta) 2004

Gustavo Santaolalla’s glorious soundtrack should be enough!