Roger Ebert says that you can’t
finish a review until you’ve started it – that you have to sit down and begin
to write before any words will show up on the page. He’s certainly right, but his philosophy doesn’t
feel helpful when you don’t know how to begin the review. Obviously I didn’t know how to start this
one. The more I think about Anselmo
Duarte’s Keeper of Promises (1962),
the more favorably I feel toward it, but I’m still not sure that I liked it…at
least not in the traditional sense of the word.
I know that there were things
I liked about it, but because I’m not sure exactly what its message was I can’t
say that I took from it anything particularly moving. I’m not of the opinion that all films need to
be direct in their message. That would
make for boring cinema and even more boring conversations about cinema.
However,
there are some subjects that I feel can’t be addressed without being candid
about what it is that you’re using cinema to say. Obviously Keeper
of Promises is a criticism of the Catholic Church and the position of power
that it held in Brazil at the time of the film’s release. I have two problems with this, neither of
which stems from my own religious beliefs, but rather my beliefs about
film. First, I often feel that criticism
of religion has been overdone in movies. Luis Buñuel relied on it so heavily that it
often overshadowed the better ideas that were present in his films. Second, I feel that if you’re going to use art
to criticize the church you should be specific in your criticism. Call me a protestant (and so I am), but I
think Luther got at least this right with his 95 complaints.
Creating
art that exists simply to criticize religion in general is like using Nazis or
Wall Street sleaze balls as your villain.
It’s a cop out. Who doesn’t have some issue with an aspect of organized
religion? Religion is necessary for
individuals to collectively organize their faith. It’s scary to many people because they don’t
know quite where their faith fits in, but almost everyone acknowledges the need
for spiritual guidance of some kind in life.
In this particular line of reasoning, religion reminds me a lot of the
Internal Revenue Service. Most of us
have unfounded fears about what goes on there, but if we pay our taxes we have
no reason to be afraid. It isn’t something
that we enjoy every aspect of, but as taxpayers we acknowledge its viable and
necessary function. Movies that cast
religion as an immense but nonspecific evil feel like they’re taking the easy
way out because no one wants to see a movie where the bad guys are the IRS.*
I’m not advocating the unquestioned
acceptance of religious principles. On
the contrary, I feel that religion serves best the person who questions why they
believe. Keeper of Promises succeeds, I believe, where other films have
failed because it focuses is on a character with steadfast faith, who appears
to have examined his reasons for acting as he does. This man of faith is Zé do Burro (Leonardo
Villar). He’s walked a number of miles to
Salvador, carrying with him a life-sized cross as a token of sacrifice to St.
Barbara. Along for the journey is his
wife, Rosa (Glória Menezes), who is exhausted when they arrive in the hours
before dawn, hoping to place the cross in the Church of the saint. When they find the doors locked Zé is
determined to wait with the cross, but Rosa is convinced by a local hustler
that he will take her to a nearby hotel.
His intensions are obvious, but Rosa and Zé are naïve.
As the sunrise breaks over the
massive flights of stairs that lead up to the church’s doors the priest
arrives. He’s impressed with Zé’s story of
sacrifice until he learns that these actions were inspired by the peasant man’s
belief that St. Barbara saved his donkey from certain death. He denies him entrance to the cathedral,
rebuking him for having prayed for the animal’s soul. Incensed, Zé decides to wait out the priest,
determined to keep his promise to the saint.
As the hours pass, a media circus descends on the great steps. An atmosphere of Carnival develops that is reminiscent
of Billy Wilder’s Ace in the Hole
(1951)**. Reporters form the television
station arrive, and the leaders of the church are forced to meet to discuss the
ramifications of the decision that must be made, all leading toward a startling
and disparaging climax. So great is this
film’s cynicism regarding humanity, the 1001 text points out, that the righteous
man’s only friend is his donkey.
What’s truly interesting about the
film is how good it looks. On what I
would assume was a limited budget, cinematographer H.E. Fowle, who made his
name shooting documentary shorts in the 1930s and 40s, creates a vivid world
using the black and white palette. Staging
and Mise en scène appear to have been taken into great consideration,
particularly when it appears that much of the film was shot with natural
light. Fowle uses small architectural
elements of the city to great effect as well, framing shots with intricate details
of shaped rod iron and giving the impression that we a peaking around a corner
to get a better look at the action.
Much of the film’s religious
symbolism is laid-on rather thick, but Keeper
of Promises is still a compelling story of a man’s belief in his word. The segments that follow Rosa’s interactions
with the pimp are powerful as well, and serve nicely as a counterpart to the
scene at the church. While I can’t say
that I understood the details of Duarte’s complaints against the church here, I’m
willing to acknowledge that they may be contextually rooted in the religious
practices of Brazil, and thus lost on me.
I can say that I don’t feel that I wasted 95 minutes on Keeper of Promises, as its images proved
to be powerful.
Language:
Portuguese (limited subtitles)
Runtime:
95 Minutes
Grade:
2 Hats Off
*although
it is somewhat entertaining to internally speculate about what types of
weaponry the bean counters might wield
**and
the great staircase seems to be a clear reference to Battleship Potemkin (1925)
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