QUICK’N DIRTY: LIVE FROM BERLIN
What begins as a mundane diary of an enduring romance transforms into an otherworldly quest.
The film follows a couple, Jacira and Gilberto, all the way from the unforgettable night they meet in the ’70s to their far less glamorous lives roughly half a century later. Jacira is hospitalised and returns home with a very strange disposition, which confuses Gilberto. The man gets lost in the bustling streets of Belo Horizonte, a very large city in Southeastern Brazil, as he desperately seeks to find out what happened to the woman to whom he devoted his life.
Norberto Novais Oliveira, the director’s father, plays Gilberto to perfection. The film’s commentary on our societal conceptions on elderly people functions because of how the actor works with his character’s fears in a subtle subtle and realistic manner. Much of the third and final act consists of wordless acting. Novais Oliveira is simultaneously determined and helpless.
Conceição Evaristo, a renowned Brazilian poet and writer, plays Jacira. Her delivery is equally impressive. Their relationship is very robust, and the harmony is palpable. The trivial dialogues – at home or at the doctor’s – reveals decades of bickering, teasing and comforting. Evaristo understands the power of careful delivery. Each word has weight. Her balancing of humour and a cutting heartache is crucial to the movie.
Director and writer André Novais Oliveira subverts genre expectations.. The film starts with a 16mm 4:3 aspect ratio, evoking the nostalgia from the ’70s. Our rebellious protagonist sneaks out of his home in order to serenade his crush. They end up on the dance floor. The club acquires a mythical glow, mirroring the significance of the encounter. There’s a reverence to Black Soul in Brazilian grassroots music. From here the film expands its aspect ratio and takes us to the present with our two loves in a new phase of life.
The screenplay is full of tongue-in-cheek playfulness. The pace is slow and observational, however the narrative remains mostly unpredictable. The shift into the otherworldly is a risky one, but it works out. Novais Oliveira hits viewers with a curveball. Time dissipates. We feel as lost as Gilberto, now torn from his life partner,
The ensuing scenes maintain a warm and gentle tone, while also being truly spooky. You’re compelled to believe in the same uncanny forces as Gilberto. The ominous score creates unrest. Brazilian jazz band Metá Metá are in control of the music, which is vital to the film mystery, The notes distort and transform the story, taking it to a phantasmagorical place. Cinematographer Leonor Teles also deserves credit. She repeatedly finds novel ways to contextualise the long shots. The framing and the composition are outstanding. She resignifies charming and creepy Belo Horizonte. The creative team conjure genuinely surreal scenes – despite working on a tight budget.
If I Were Alive just premiered in the Panorama section of the 76th Berlinale.




















