Bang Bang

«Tout ce dont vous avez besoin pour faire un film, c'est d'une fille et d'un flingue» (Godard). I keep writing this here over and over again, apparently just for myself, but: Brazil, cinema marginal, underground - mockery of absurdity and absurd mockery of everything and everyone's meaning, and finally even of oneself (literally). This is a film stripped down to its nonsensical skeleton, in which Tristan with a monkey mask runs away with apathetic Isolde from the adversity of hostile fate in the form of obscure forces of evil. Everything is undermined by self-destroying sarcasm, aesthetic ugliness, ugliness that (maybe?!?!) should not evoke any feelings of disgust, resistance, or rebellion because that would be too noble, but simply an ironic mockery of the viewer, a true rejection of all the seriousness that the pseudo-romantic plot could contain. Thus, there is room for an orgy of senselessly long shots (similar especially with companion Julio Bressan), which can be either savored for their unnecessary excessiveness, their inappropriately effective ride and smoothness in the context of the film, or in this film one may search in vain for meaning where there is none and never was - especially in 1971 in Brazil, under the rule of the brutal military junta... (04.09.2016)