Breno Mello plays Orpheus, a black trolley drive in Rio de Janeiro. Engaged to Mira, he eagerly avoids her, his lothario nature leaves Mira suspicious, she loaning him money for her ring as he’s busier buying a guitar for the carnival, which Eurydice played by Marpessa Dawn, has arrived for. Eurydice has a love interest in the skeleton-suited Death, like a great Greek myth Orpheus coming to her rescue with one play of that guitar. The instantly of the carnival has blood racing for the fragile Eurydice, blood Mira & Death want to see. A dark under current accompanies the favelas flow of love, Marcel Camus collaborating on a script heavily based on Greek & Latin mythology. Dancing is prevalent in nearly all scenes, the beautiful shot nature moves with the new beats, in dance many of the characters are possessed, some like Eurydice taking disgust in the midst of the carnival. Breno Mello was actually a Rio-footballer; it’s arguably whether he or any of the actors had the skills or material to flesh rounded performances, character and motive aren’t strong enough to hold this as a tragic tale of poverty, Camus contemporary Henri Clouzot structured his films more, equally though his endings were impeding and/or divisive. Camus went further then any 50’s film in depicting free love, blitzing in Rio’s humidity, by shooting seemingly everything on location his use of Technicolor will continue impress far beyond Hitchcock’s perfectionist efforts. Like their box-offices, France seems to have a similar inkling as America to black culture, visualising many as idiotic and primitive, Camus fortunately delivers his vision with playful poetry, his mythical reliance doesn’t allow for obnoxiousness, as in Pier Pasolini films, his camera is thoughtful in overall coverage and movement. Winning secondary Oscars is usually a sign of a film being the sum of its parts, Black Orpheus is somewhat, it could of won more than one. Like me you’ll love to whistle this film, a wishing whistle that you could dance so. Orfeu Negro seems a past Brazilian film of poetic realism, as Neorealism perpetuates modern Brazilian film, a balance of poeticism would be very fruitfully in bringing beauty to Rio and its favelas, now lost in a city of alpha male exploitation, then all of Latin cinema seems exploitative in a City of God comparison. Well worth ones appreciation, Black Orpheus doesn’t have the acting of 400 Blows, the intrigue of Melville & Bresson or the style of Breathless, its more a melo balance of young and old, man and woman, Camus’ use of Hollywood-esce compositions and film stock remind one of Mike Powell’s The Red Shoes, another ‘music n dance’ film that uses its rainbow of colour to reach for the stars, with far reaching results, a classic that continues to age black and beautiful. Darcy S. McCallum |
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Black Orpheus won the 1959 best foreign film Oscar for director Marcel Camus, a crowing feast-of-a-film that overshadowed the rest of his career so much that its hard to know, find or see any of his dozen odd others films. It’s one of many French films that brilliantly captures a city or country unlikely to ever make such a film on its own account, its not a musical, most sound is diegetic, the love story is between nature, music and their people. Notable for introducing the boosa nova beat of Luiz Bonfa & Marpessa Dawn, its win at Cannes added to the acclaimed with France’s greatest year of film; 1959, still notable for Breathless, The 400 Blows, Pickpocket, Two Men in Manhattan, The Cousins & Hiroshima Mon Amour.
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