Back to the margins in search of the core: "Foreign Land"'s geography of exclusion

The crisis of the national project in the early 1990s, caused by a short-lived but disastrous government, led Brazilian art cinema, for the first time, to look at itself as periphery and re-approach the old colonial center, Portugal. Terra estrangeira/Foreign Land (Walter Salles & Daniela Thomas, Brazil/Portugal, 1995), a film about Brazilian exiles in Portugal, is the best illustration of this perspective shift which provides a new sense of Brazil’s scale and position within a global context. Shot mainly on location in São Paulo, Lisbon and Cape Verde, it promotes the encounter of Lusophone peoples who find a common ground in their marginal situation. Rather than as a former empire, Portugal is defined by its situation at the edge of Europe and by beliefs such as Sebastianism, whose origins go back to the time when the country was dominated by Spain. As a result, notions of “core” or “center” are devolved to the realm of myth. The film’s carefully crafted dialogue combines Brazilian, Portuguese and Creole linguistic peculiarities into a common dialect of exclusion, while language puns trigger visual rhymes which refer back to the Cinema Novo (the Brazilian New Wave) repertoire and restage the imaginary of the discovery turned into unfulfilled utopia. The main characters also acquire historical resonances, as they are depicted as descendants of Iberian conquistadors turned into smugglers of precious stones in the present. Their activities define a circuit of international exchange which resonates with that of globalized cinema, a realm in which Foreign Land, made up of citations and homage to other cinemas, tries to retrieve a sense of belonging.

Back to the margins in search of the core: foreign land's geography of exclusion

The crisis of the national project in the early 1990s, caused by a short-lived but disastrous government, led Brazilian art cinema, for the first time, to look at itself as periphery and re-approach the old colonial centre, Portugal. Terra estrangeira/Foreign Land (Walter Salles & Daniela Thomas, Brazil/Portugal, 1995), a film about Brazilian exiles in Portugal, is the best illustration of this perspective shift aimed at providing a new sense of Brazil’s scale and position within a global context. Shot mainly on location in São Paulo, Lisbon and Cape Verde, it promotes the encounter of Lusophone peoples who find a common ground in their marginal situation. Even Portugal is defined by its location at the edge of Europe and by beliefs such as Sebastianism, whose origins go back to the time when the country was dominated by Spain. As a result, notions of ‘core’ or ‘centre’ are devolved to the realm of myth. The film’s carefully crafted dialogues combine Brazilian, Portuguese and Creole linguistic peculiarities into a common dialect of exclusion, while language puns trigger visual rhymes which refer back to the Cinema Novo (the Brazilian New Wave) repertoire and restage the imaginary of the discovery turned into unfulfilled utopia. The main characters also acquire historical resonances, as they are depicted as descendants of Iberian conquistadors turned into smugglers of precious stones in the present. Their activities define a circuit of international exchange which resonates with that of globalized cinema, a realm in which Foreign Land, made up of citations and homage to other cinemas, tries to retrieve a sense of belonging.

Tempo, magnitude e o mito do cinema moderno

Neste texto, irei abordar três filmes ambientados em Portugal, cujas locações oferecem uma visão privilegiada da função do tempo e da magnitude no cinema, os quais, por sua vez, nos permitem reavaliar as categorias de clássico, moderno e pós-moderno aplicadas a esse meio. Trata-se de O estado das coisas (Der Stand der Dinge, Wim Wenders, 1982), Terra estrangeira (Walter Salles and Daniela Thomas, 1995) e Mistérios de Lisboa (Raúl Ruiz, 2010). Neles, a cidade se compõe de círculos viciosos, espelhos, réplicas e mise-en-abyme que interrompem o movimento vertiginoso característico da cidade modernista do cinema dos anos 20. Curiosamente, é também o lugar em que a assim chamada estética pós-moderna finalmente encontra abrigo em contos auto-irônicos que expõem as insuficiências dos mecanismos narrativos no cinema. Para compensá-las, recorre-se a procedimentos de intermídia, tais como fotografias de polaroid em O estado das coisas ou um teatro de papelão em Mistérios de Lisboa, que transformam uma realidade incomensurável em miniaturas fáceis de enquadrar e manipular. O real assim diminuído, no entanto, se revela um simulacro decepcionante, um ersatz da memória que evidencia o caráter ilusório da teleologia cosmopolita. Em minha abordagem, começarei por examinar a gênese interligada e transnacional desses filmes que resultou em três visões correlatas mas muito diversas do fim da história e da narrativa, típico da estética pós-moderna. A seguir, irei considerar o miniaturismo intermedial como uma tentativa de congelar o tempo no interior do movimento, uma equação que inevitavelmente nos remete ao binário deleuziano tempo-movimento, que também irei revisitar com o fim de distingui-lo da oposição entre cinema clássico e moderno. Por fim, irei propor a stasis reflexiva e a inversão de escala como demonominadores comuns entre todos os projetos ditos modernos, que por esta razão, segundo creio, são mais confiáveis que a modernidade enquanto indicadores de valores artísticos e políticos.