Sometimes, context really is everything when it comes to viewing films. Such is the case with Glauber Rocha’s Black God, White Devil (1964). I’m willing to believe, as the 1001 text assures me, that the film was received as a fresh and energetic declaration of a new Brazilian cinema upon its initial release. However, I doubt that many contemporary audiences would apply either of the adjectives I used in the previous sentence to the film today. Nearly fifty years removed from its premiere, it feels more like homage to better films than a work of startling originality. Clearly Rocha was influenced by Eisenstein (as 1001 notes) and the French new wave—which certainly seems like an interesting combination—and it’s possible that Sergio Leone barrowed elements for the “Man with No Name” films he was working on at the time in Italy. It also plainly seems to have influenced Jodorowsky’s El Topo* (1970). But even with all of these connections Black God, White Devil failed to peak my interest.
The film’s action centers on Manuel, a laborer who kills his abusive employer and then goes on the run with his wife, Rosa. The two set out into Brazil’s badlands where they fall in with a Black mystic. They join his cult-like following, participating in his odd religious rituals. Overcome by jealousy, Rosa eventually tries to free Manuel from the mystic’s control. The two escape when a hired gunfighter is paid by the government to break up the rouge religious sect. They eventually join up with a White bandito whose legend has endeared him to the people only enough to sustain a meager existence, but he too is on the bounty list of the gunfighter.
Admittedly, this synopsis is drawn equally, if not more so, from the review in the 1001 text than the actual experience of viewing the film. Partly because the print I viewed was a bad 16mm to VHS transfer, and partly because the characters are poorly developed and at points difficult to distinguish from one another, I was utterly lost throughout the film. The fact that white subtitles had been applied to the b&w film, and that they were often displayed over the hue that desert projects in that pallet, certainly didn’t help much. Perhaps these factors doomed my potential appreciation for this film from the start, but I can’t really imagine having particularly enjoyed it in ideal conditions anyhow. The odd religious imagery feels cheaply exploited, and the performances for the most part feel flat. Had events superfluous to the picture not taken place, I feel that Black God, White Devil might have faded into almost total obscurity.
Between the picture’s production and its opening, a military coup resulted in political upheaval in Brazil. As a violent, subversive, and challenging film I feel that it benefitted from events that it was, to my knowledge, in no way directly connected to. It felt fresh because it seemed to have predicted the stirrings of dissent and the violent reaction to conventional norms. This same point could be made about many English-language films of the period as well, as the 1960s brought vast social change throughout the world. Many American films of the decade were praised as groundbreaking, but comparatively few have retained vaunted status, and only a small number are regarded as cinematic classics.
Apart from one distinctly odd death scene Black God, White Devil contains little memorable material. The film is littered with images that are potentially powerful, but overall it has no sense of urgency. A few gunfights are punctuated by rapid-fire editing, but this technique ultimately feels unmotivated, and adrift in an otherwise slow picture. The 1001 write up on the film alludes to a Brazil brimming with potential upheaval into which this film was thrust with the force of a lightning bolt. Unfortunately, it seems that this force, like lightning, was brief in its ability to illuminate both elements of a country in transition and an engaging narrative.
Language: Portuguese
Runtime: 110 Minutes
Grade: 1 Hat Off
*a film I can’t say that I particularly like, but is certainly better than Rocha’s
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