QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM SAN SEBASTIAN
Five years later, 41-year-old Brazilian documentarist Petra Costa releases an informal continuation to Oscar-nominated feature The Edge of Democracy. The director’s age is a crucial piece of information here. That’s because she famously claimed in her former movie that she was born the same year as Brazilian democracy, and that she thought both would be standing strong still. Half a decade later it turns out that Brazilian democracy did survive after all – if only just about. And Costa has now come up with a new diagnosis for her home country’s unstable condition: religious fundamentalism.
Combining archive footage with exclusive images of recent developments, and interactions with controversial Brazilian evangelist Silas Malafaia, Petra’s new creation is remarkably similar to its predecessor. The entire ordeal is narrated by the filmmaker, with a sad and profound – at time laborious – voice. She uses the first person, makes occasional comparisons to her own experience, and makes it abundantly clear that her allegiance is with leftwing president Luis Inacio Lula da Silva. She describes the events that lead to the ascension of gun-loving, dictatorship-worshipping Bolsonaro with a perceptible tone of consternation. The biggest novelty is the assertion that evangelists are plotting to overtake Brasilia, and to turn a lay democracy into a theocracy. And that the film is divided into biblically-inspired chapters.
It is no exaggeration to claim that some prominent religion leaders seek to evangelise the political establishment. They talk openly and emphatically about forcing Jesus into politics, taking over congress, and preventing topics deemed vaguely subversive – such as abortion, LGBT+ rights – from poisoning their yellow and green soil. They embrace the colours of the Brazilian flag with fanatical ardour. And they are convinced that Marxism is the root of all evil. The fight against the gender movement, epitomised by the elusive “unisex public toilet” became the emblem of their unholy crusade.
The leftwing filmmaker has impressive access to Silas Malafaia, an evangelical pastor who became a Brazilian congressman, and a close ally of Bolsonaro He insists that clergymen should be in parliament. Despite the very significant political differences, he gives her access to his house, his car, and his routine. He is never embarrassed to use his inflammatory rhetoric in front of her. In reality, the aggressive behaviour and the fiery remarks became an asset. Costa occasionally questions the formidable man, however remaining respectful of his questionable views and demeanour.
This 110-minute film offers very useful insight into Brazilian politics, while also making pertinent reflections. Some of the top[ics of The Edge of Democracy – such as Lula’s political imprisonment – are reprised. The tense crowds that watched Dilma impeachment in 2016 and seen again here, except that this time the occasion are the knife-edge 2022 elections, which Lula ultimately won (to the relief of Petra and the progressive West). Bolsonaro supporters attempted a coup a week after Lula’s inauguration. Images of Brazil’s congress and supreme court thrashed by coup-mongers are shocking, wrapping the film up with an ominous note. Crucially, Costa interviews Lula before the campaign trail: he claims that he would never campaign inside a Church. Roughly a year later we see him do just that, in unequivocal sign that he bowed to pressure. That’s because evangelicals became such a defining political force in Brazilian politics,
Despite the fascinating journey through Brazil’s recent history, Apocalypse in the Tropics has multiple shortcomings. Firstly, it is vastly inferior to its predecessor, lacking its focus and urgency. That could be partly explained by the fact that Brazilian democracy isn’t in the same dire stater as two years ago. And so Costa isn’t as terrefied. Another issue is that the developments are often too broad brush, while the historical insight remains a little patchy. For example, the film reveals the “Genesis” of the evangelists in the of 1958 in the US, with incendiary preacher Billy Graham. Yet it never reveals how these denominations spread like wildfire in Brazil. Instead, she simply states that religion often made up for poor education and scarce work opportunities (a correct however insufficient elucidation). It never dissects the complex church landscape in Brazil, instead giving the false impression that Malafaia is the most important such figure in Brazil. Very strangely, the movie completely ignores the largest evangelical denomination of Brazil – the Universal Church of the Kingdom of God -, with its almighty congress and media arm (their founder Edir Macedo owns TV Record, the third largest media conglomerate in the nation). This is a glaring omission.
Another difference is that Apocalypse in the Tropics is not as personally visceral as The Edge of Democracy. That’s probably because the director’s knowledge of religion is limited, and so she has to keep a safe distance from the topic. Costa confesses that she was brought up in a lay family. As a consequence, the “biblical” structure feels somewhat contrived, and the philosophical reflections a tad banal. Still, a necessary viewing. Particularly to those little familiar with Brazilian politics, and to those who believe that the separation between church and state should remain sacred and immaculate.
Apocalypse in the Tropics showed in the 72nd San Sebastian International Film Festival.