An assassin and a seer meet at a desert road. He is at the wheels of his Chevrolet, short hair, a flower behind his ear. She is walking in the asphalt, red lipstick, a dress full of flowers and no sleeves, and red shoes, the same color of her lipstick. After a brief hesitation, the two of them start an eccentric love, a marginal love, where boredom seldom gives its place to tragedy, creating the agony of an holiday spent at the abyss. Agony originally means that the fighter is in the limit of his strengths. —Indie Lisboa
The landscape of a renovated modern Brazilian cinema (known as Cinema Novo), had its court of renowned saints: Glauber Rocha, Nelson Pereira dos Santos, Ruy Guerra, Joaquim Pedro Andrade, Carlos Diegues, Leon Hirzman and others. A rich court indeed, it had already manifested in the 60s the high profile artistic offer of the tropicalismo country. However, little is widespread of what followed this star-studded generation, toward the end of the decade and in a climate of brutal repression – an emblematic style of filmmaking that, homogenous to what was happening in North America, came to be known as “udigrudi” or “Cinema Marginal.” This radical context produced films, which were as noteworthy as they were hard to come by: O bandido da luz vermelha (Rogério Sganzerla, 1968), O anjo nasceu and Matou a familia e foi ao cinema (Júlio Bressane, 1969), Bang-bang (Andrea Tonacci, 1971) and A margem (Ozualdo Candeias, 1967).
With a career that keeps to margins and borders, Júlio Bressane… read more