On the one hand, it's a standard-fare family-friendly animated feature, the kind that hits the multiplex about once a month ever since the Pixar folks started drawing imitators. But on the other hand, it actually is rooted in the real Rio, the real Carnaval, and some of the real music of Rio de Janeiro. A big step up from the Simpson's visit to Rio, which cast a samba school as some sort of Arthur Murray franchise.
Cinematically, 2.5 stars out of 5. Low point is when you realize Anne Hathaway is actually supposed to be a Brazilian hottie. And when the carnaval floats are shown to have motors -- never gonna happen. And not nearly enough Brazilian music.
In the trailer, look for the Disney quotes from Aquarela do Brasil (included in the full-length film Saludos Amigos):
The first 2 minutes of Rio
25.4.11
28.2.11
Film on Brazilian art-art-in-landfill project missed Oscar
It may not have won an Oscar but this film seems to shed an interesting light on a striking artistic trend I've seen myself in Brazil -- endless reuse of modern detritus.
A video from The Economist
A video from The Economist
16.2.11
The Best of Brazil
Nebraska-based DJ Randy Morse has been promoting Brazilian music for a long time. That's right, from Nebraska. But now he has a new venture that's packed with info for Brazilian music fans, The Best of Brazil. Named for his radio show, it promises audio archives, links to artist sites, and more. And any site that turns us on to a new Harvey Wainapel release is worth a visit!
13.12.10
Documentary explores ballet aspirations in Rio's Zona Norte
I recently saw the documentary Only When I Dance, released in 2009. What's special about the film is its novel subject matter: working class Carioca teens aspiring to the ballet stages of Europe and America.
I chatted with a renowned ballet scholar a few days ago and "learned" from him that Brazil doesn't really produce any fine arts. If only to address such ignorance, I hope the film finds its audience.
The bad news is that the film features some merely good dancing and less-than-inspired filmaking. The two dancers we learn about are likable enough, but we don't get to know them very deeply. The most fun the main protagonist, Irlan, gets to have on camera is his first experience of snowflakes. Why are we supposed to care about the subjects? Because they are poor? Dark skinned? Brazilian? More memorable documentaries succeed because they focus intensely on individuals rather than general concepts.
Instead of taking the time to get under the subjects' skin we learn about the expense of international ballet competition, the self-satisfaction of their mentor, and the stress the dancers' aspirations cause for their parents.
It's not hard to find other flaws. The film doesn't have anything to say about the superb dance traditions native to Brazil; all we see is a few seconds of canned forró music when the parents of the protagonist have a night out. It avoids Brazilian cliches like bikinis on the beach, soccer, and carnaval but falls instead into a much more boring formula: the "Hoop Dreams" documentary template without any real imagination, powerful cinematography, or the originality of the basketball documentary.
So who should watch this film? Anyone unfamiliar with the cultural diversity of modern Brazil might learn a thing or two about the realities of urban life there today. Aspiring documentary filmmakers might want to see it as a cautionary tale: running after your subject with a handheld shot does not imbue your film with energy, only dizziness.
I chatted with a renowned ballet scholar a few days ago and "learned" from him that Brazil doesn't really produce any fine arts. If only to address such ignorance, I hope the film finds its audience.
The bad news is that the film features some merely good dancing and less-than-inspired filmaking. The two dancers we learn about are likable enough, but we don't get to know them very deeply. The most fun the main protagonist, Irlan, gets to have on camera is his first experience of snowflakes. Why are we supposed to care about the subjects? Because they are poor? Dark skinned? Brazilian? More memorable documentaries succeed because they focus intensely on individuals rather than general concepts.
Instead of taking the time to get under the subjects' skin we learn about the expense of international ballet competition, the self-satisfaction of their mentor, and the stress the dancers' aspirations cause for their parents.
It's not hard to find other flaws. The film doesn't have anything to say about the superb dance traditions native to Brazil; all we see is a few seconds of canned forró music when the parents of the protagonist have a night out. It avoids Brazilian cliches like bikinis on the beach, soccer, and carnaval but falls instead into a much more boring formula: the "Hoop Dreams" documentary template without any real imagination, powerful cinematography, or the originality of the basketball documentary.
So who should watch this film? Anyone unfamiliar with the cultural diversity of modern Brazil might learn a thing or two about the realities of urban life there today. Aspiring documentary filmmakers might want to see it as a cautionary tale: running after your subject with a handheld shot does not imbue your film with energy, only dizziness.
60 minutes on the economic ascent of Brazil
Venerable TV news magazine covers Brazil's growing economic clout.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
