I watched "City of God" for the first time when it was initially released on DVD in Brazil (didn't get a chance to see it in theaters, but followed its gradual and glorious popularity, which started when it premiered at Cannes 2002, out of competition). Since it was officially released in the US only in 2003, it was eligible for the Oscars the following year (but no longer for Best Foreign Film, since it was the previous year's submission and it got snubbed), earning four nominations in categories no Brazilian film had ever been recognized before: director (Meirelles, co-director Lund didn't share the nod), adapted screenplay (Braulio Mantovani, based on Paulo Lins' book), editing (Daniel Rezende), and cinematography (Cesar Charlone). I saw it again in 2007, after living in the US for one year, and the impact was even bigger; just rewatched it last week, and now, more than ever, I agree with the instant classic status this hell of a film earned.
That does not mean I didn't like it the first time I saw it. I did - a lot. But, at the same time, it felt like deja vu - Brazilians like me grew up used to watching horrible stories like this on the news since we were kids, and although I was fortunate enough to have been raised in a small, peaceful town and never suffered from violence or extreme poverty as the people shown in the film did; Brazilians tend to grow callous of our country's status quo of violent third-world nation. Things are slowly changing for the better, but there's so much work that needs to be done; still, one never loses faith in their country's future.
The first paradox is the movie's title, which is the actual name of the largest 'favela' (slum) in Rio de Janeiro, a beautiful city most regarded internationally for its postcard-perfect beaches, the statue of Christ the Redeemer and the classic "Girl from Ipanema" tune. You would expect "City of God" would be a beautiful place, and although it's part of beautiful Rio, it is far from it. It is a place where hell breaks loose (has had since the 1960's, where the action starts), and the movie focuses on two boys, Buscape and Dadinho, who grow up to be, respectively, a photographer (earning his way out of the favela, not without a price), and one of the most feared drug dealers/assassins in the history of the town.
Another paradox is the frequent misconception of the movie's relevance. The non-linear narrative and stylish, frantic editing are reminiscent of Tarantino's 'Pulp Fiction', and the film was heralded as a "South American Goodfellas". These are fair comparisons, but they can also undermine the film's devastating impact and social relevance behind all the cinematic pyrotechnics involved. "City of God" may be considered a spectacle victim of the MTV fashion (which ranges from the quality of a "Trainspotting" to the stupidity of Michael Bay's extravaganzas), or a movie that uses such modern narrative conventions to tell a painfully brutal real story (that's been repeating itself for decades) in a palatable way. The polished visuals may remind you that you are seeing a movie; but the raw cruelty of seeing little kids having to choose whether to be shot in their hands or feet, just to cite one of the film's most scathing moments, won't leave your mind.
This is not just a film, but a story of chaos on earth, a human tragedy that shouldn't be ignored or forgotten. Some may see "City of God" as an 'action movie', but they will be missing its real meaning, and the power that a good film can have to make us see beyond our general scope of reality.
That does not mean I didn't like it the first time I saw it. I did - a lot. But, at the same time, it felt like deja vu - Brazilians like me grew up used to watching horrible stories like this on the news since we were kids, and although I was fortunate enough to have been raised in a small, peaceful town and never suffered from violence or extreme poverty as the people shown in the film did; Brazilians tend to grow callous of our country's status quo of violent third-world nation. Things are slowly changing for the better, but there's so much work that needs to be done; still, one never loses faith in their country's future.
The first paradox is the movie's title, which is the actual name of the largest 'favela' (slum) in Rio de Janeiro, a beautiful city most regarded internationally for its postcard-perfect beaches, the statue of Christ the Redeemer and the classic "Girl from Ipanema" tune. You would expect "City of God" would be a beautiful place, and although it's part of beautiful Rio, it is far from it. It is a place where hell breaks loose (has had since the 1960's, where the action starts), and the movie focuses on two boys, Buscape and Dadinho, who grow up to be, respectively, a photographer (earning his way out of the favela, not without a price), and one of the most feared drug dealers/assassins in the history of the town.
Another paradox is the frequent misconception of the movie's relevance. The non-linear narrative and stylish, frantic editing are reminiscent of Tarantino's 'Pulp Fiction', and the film was heralded as a "South American Goodfellas". These are fair comparisons, but they can also undermine the film's devastating impact and social relevance behind all the cinematic pyrotechnics involved. "City of God" may be considered a spectacle victim of the MTV fashion (which ranges from the quality of a "Trainspotting" to the stupidity of Michael Bay's extravaganzas), or a movie that uses such modern narrative conventions to tell a painfully brutal real story (that's been repeating itself for decades) in a palatable way. The polished visuals may remind you that you are seeing a movie; but the raw cruelty of seeing little kids having to choose whether to be shot in their hands or feet, just to cite one of the film's most scathing moments, won't leave your mind.
This is not just a film, but a story of chaos on earth, a human tragedy that shouldn't be ignored or forgotten. Some may see "City of God" as an 'action movie', but they will be missing its real meaning, and the power that a good film can have to make us see beyond our general scope of reality.