I had to control myself not to start dancing in the movie theater. And I'm sure I was not the only one. After all,
Moro no Brasil (Sounds of Brazil), a music documentary by Finnish director Mika Kaurismäki is an invitation to enjoy music.
Brazilian music.
It all started when Kaurismäki decided to swap his Deep Purple record by "an obscure collection of Brazilian samba
classics." After the successful first date, he fell in love with Brazilian music and eagerly started trying to learn more about the
roots of samba. Kaurismäki then came to Brazil—where he has been for more than ten years—and started traveling around
the country with his camera.
The result was worth the effort. Sounds of
Brazil focuses on various types of Brazilian rhythms, especially those
from the states of Pernambuco, Bahia and Rio de Janeiro, visited by the director and his team in their 2,000-mile journey
throughout the country. "Brazil is a country with one of the richest musical traditions in the world. Most people are only
familiar with rhythms such as the samba or
bossa nova, but there is so much more to discover," says Kaurismäki.
Interestingly enough, if foreigners will be surprised as they learn about the other rhythms, so will Brazilians. "A few
music styles shown in the movie were totally unknown to me. People from the Southeast of Brazil do not have much contact
with the variety of other Brazilian styles," says Bruno Murtinho, a translator from Rio.
It is true. Frevo, maracatu, samba de coco
and embolada are just a few examples of rhythms that are quite
unfamiliar to Brazilians living outside the North and Northeast. "The movie is very informative in this regard and I wish they
produced `Sounds of Brazil 2,' about other regions, so I could learn more," adds Murtinho.
It would not be a bad idea. After all, despite Kaurismäki's aim of "portraying the country in its totality," some
regions were left out. A possible second version could show the rich rock culture in Brasília (100 percent made in Brazil) or the
typical dances of the South. Some spectators also missed the famous
axé music, which was "forgotten" in the movie and yet is
the favorite rhythm during Carnaval. "This was a capital sin," jokingly says Amanda Costa, a secretary from Brasília.
The second version could also show Brazil's many modern areas, instead of focusing only on poverty. About this,
Marco Aurélio Schaumloeffel, a Brazilian professor working at the University of Ghana, wrote on his website: "The movie
gives the impression that there is only one nation, musically rich, but with poor infrastructure. What is clear for us, Brazilians,
should have been made explicit for foreigners by showing the popular context from which this music emerges, the
discrepancies among social classes and the Americanized middle class. Without this, those less informed about Brazil (…) will think
the country is nothing but slums."
Showing poverty may "deceive" foreigners by making them think Brazilians only live in slums. On the other hand, it
may call the attention of Brazil's upper middle class, to whom poverty is only something seen on TV (and, of course, in
Brazilian movies). "I really enjoyed the movie and it faithfully portrayed the country, especially those aspects we prefer not to
admit, such as poverty, social inequality and lack of resources," opines Costa.
The positive aspects, however, makes up for any oversight. The mere fact that Brazilians' musicality has been so
well portrayed makes it a must-see movie for those interested (or at least curious) about Brazil or new rhythms. It also
showed how music, besides being a natural attribute of this nation, has also been a way for poor people to escape from crime
and drugs.
The director interviewed Ivo Meirelles, a professional musician who insisted on remaining in his poor area to be a
model for the young people from there. One of his goals is to work with talented poor teenagers to provide them with more
opportunities other than selling drugs, for example. In the movie, his clip is deliciously captivating. His
Funk `n Lata band has the audience dancing in its seats.
Fortunately, the arts have clearly been a way for the poor to improve their lives. Fernando Meirelles'
City of God is a good example. Many of its actors—mostly coming from theatre groups of slums—are now working in soap operas,
movies and other productions, all of them with great success. "Everything to me has changed a lot," says Darlan Cunha, who
lived in a slum before having his life transformed by Meirelles' movie. "I never thought I would make friends outside my
poor neighborhood." Cunha and Douglas Silva, his partner, are now famous throughout Brazil; work in prime time shows on
TV and even met President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva in November.
Showing street musicians also makes the movie more special. After all, it shows what Brazilian popular music is
really like, instead of promoting "popular" singers who are no longer "popular" in the prices of their concerts and CDs. Want
to go to Marisa Monte's or Caetano Veloso's concert? Be prepared to shell out a lot of money for the tickets.
There is no question that they are excellent representatives of the so-called "Brazilian Popular Music" (MPB), but
their fans are mostly the elite. Artists shown by
Sounds of Brazil are different. They are not that famous and some even need
to continue working in other areas, such as Walter Alfaiate, a singing tailor, popular in Rio de Janeiro for his sambas.
Music, bands, dances, concerts. The movie has intentionally few talks so that the audience listens and dances to it.
Margareth Menezes, an internationally famous singer from Bahia interviewed by the director, says Brazil is the birthplace of many
rhythms, a kind of a musical Mecca. All pilgrims are welcome.
Information:
Moro No Brasil (Sounds of Brazil)
Brazil/Finland 2002
Director/Screenwriter: Mika Kaurismäki
Producer: Phoebe Clark, Frank Scharf
Cinematographer Jacques Cheuiche
Screenwriter: George Moura
Websites:
http://www.ivomeirelles.com
http://www2.uol.com.br/seujorge
www.moronobrasil.com (Here you can listen to the greatest songs of the movie)
Carolina Berard is a translator, teacher and journalist in Brazil. Comments are welcome at
kerolmb@ig.com.br
