Brazilian cinema continues to climb successfully out of the (arguably) artistic vacuum of the 1980's and early 1990's era when sex, drugs, and violence ruled the box office as a cultural mirror, with first-time director Marcos Bernstein's wonderful character study featuring (and perhaps even written for) acclaimed actress Fernanda Montenegro. "The Other Side of the Street" was also written by Bernstein (and Melanie Dimantas), and becomes the second film which Bernstein has written for Montenegro, after the very successful "Central Station" in 1999. That history together allowed a relatively young writer in his early thirties (he's 37 now) to grasp the intricacies and nuances of the elderly characters he writes about so well. Fernanda Montenegro was over 70 when this film was shot, so perhaps it is just that age disparity that makes the film so good. Much more can be inferred about the non-age-appropriate activities in which he has his character Regina engage. This film doesn't hide or contort the behaviors of its characters, rather exposes them in a raw, realistic fashion that left me encouraged for this world, and myself. Love makes you feel brand new.
Bernstein's treatise of aging and loneliness and the feeling of uselessness that often accompany the inevitable march toward the eternal sunset are borne out not with tricky camera work or head-scratching Fellini-esquire scenes, but in a rather straightforward narrative style. Regina is a retired woman living in the community along Copacabana beach, set in modern day. She is estranged from her son since he has taken in her former husband, who we never see (a great mechanism to keep the viewer entirely on her side), and her only contact with her family is through her grandson, a child too young to challenge the dynamic. He is small and safe, another pet to talk at (not with), and really rounds-out the image Bernstein is aiming for: isolated and ultimately cynical. She rarely smiles. In fact, Bernstein doesn't even give us close shots of her face for several minutes into the film, and it made me think perhaps he was further highlighting the anonymous voyeuristic aspect of the elderly. We often look right through them, especially in America, sadly. She has no friends beyond an aging dog named Betina, who sometimes fends for herself as Regina is distracted by her only pastime as an informant for the local police. Code named "Snow White", she transforms herself into a younger, braver version of herself to enter the world of the nightclubs. Bernstein shows us her transformation utilizing the mirror as the tool of such, and highlights Regina's apprehension as he slowly follows her hand down to the edge of the sink, as she steadies herself for the evening's activities. Once in the club, Bernstein plays with the audio for effect, muting out all sounds but the throbbing beat of the dance music: no talking, no laughing, no glasses clinking. Even when Regina, now as Snow White, makes the call to the police to turn in the child pornographer, we only hear her voice with no other sounds. She is truly alone, just an observer, never participating. One could argue that Bernstein allegorically selected the name "Snow White" to represent Regina as the sleeping princess waiting for her Prince Charming to awaken her to the world of happiness, to become the queen she truly is. "Regina" means queen.
Bernstein and his cinematographer develop Regina's loneliness and isolation through the early scenes in her apartment with stark lighting, empty flower vases, reflection shots, and one could even argue he was using blue gels to give the scenes an even moodier cast. Regina, engaging in an act of extreme voyeurism which is often all the elderly have to do, observes through binoculars the building and its inhabitants directly across the street. What is she looking for? Her cynical view of the world will certainly produce some nefarious possibilities, no? After all, she is a woman who trades upon this character flaw. Before long she witnesses Camargo, played subtly and expertly by veteran Brazilian actor Raul Cortez, give a woman an injection that kills her. Regina watches in horror, thinking the worst, as he then covers her head with the sheet, and uncovers her in perhaps a moment of tenderness and compassion, though Regina doesn't see that. The cynical voyeur sees murder! She calls the police, who come and go from Camargo's apartment. As the viewer I am immediately reminded of Hitchcock's "Rear Window". Bernstein has set in motion the mystery, and what unfolds is his version of love and hope that transcends age.
Snow White goes into high gear, as this event feeds her beliefs about the world. She understandably heads straight for the police station to divulge the crime to her contact Alcides, played ably by Luiz Carlos Persey. Alcides has put up with her nosy informing because she has produced results before, but this is too much. Camargo has been cleared of wrong-doing, and to Alcides this is just the ranting of an old woman who would believe her? Camargo was a powerful judge anyway before he retired, almost as an untouchable. Regina is on her own if she wants to prove her eyes right, and she "always trusts what she can see". She sets off to investigate Camargo herself, demonstrating more excessive risk-taking. What propels her to these behaviors? She says to Alcides at one point that she is even willing "to beat down drug dealers with her purse". Her life is empty, devoid of quality human contact that would fulfill her, replaced over time with these dangerous activities that are her only mechanism for feeling alive. Much like the addict needs more and more of the drug to combat the emptiness, she embarks on a crusade to seek fulfillment by finding facts to support what she thinks she has seen.
see part two for conclusion
Bernstein's treatise of aging and loneliness and the feeling of uselessness that often accompany the inevitable march toward the eternal sunset are borne out not with tricky camera work or head-scratching Fellini-esquire scenes, but in a rather straightforward narrative style. Regina is a retired woman living in the community along Copacabana beach, set in modern day. She is estranged from her son since he has taken in her former husband, who we never see (a great mechanism to keep the viewer entirely on her side), and her only contact with her family is through her grandson, a child too young to challenge the dynamic. He is small and safe, another pet to talk at (not with), and really rounds-out the image Bernstein is aiming for: isolated and ultimately cynical. She rarely smiles. In fact, Bernstein doesn't even give us close shots of her face for several minutes into the film, and it made me think perhaps he was further highlighting the anonymous voyeuristic aspect of the elderly. We often look right through them, especially in America, sadly. She has no friends beyond an aging dog named Betina, who sometimes fends for herself as Regina is distracted by her only pastime as an informant for the local police. Code named "Snow White", she transforms herself into a younger, braver version of herself to enter the world of the nightclubs. Bernstein shows us her transformation utilizing the mirror as the tool of such, and highlights Regina's apprehension as he slowly follows her hand down to the edge of the sink, as she steadies herself for the evening's activities. Once in the club, Bernstein plays with the audio for effect, muting out all sounds but the throbbing beat of the dance music: no talking, no laughing, no glasses clinking. Even when Regina, now as Snow White, makes the call to the police to turn in the child pornographer, we only hear her voice with no other sounds. She is truly alone, just an observer, never participating. One could argue that Bernstein allegorically selected the name "Snow White" to represent Regina as the sleeping princess waiting for her Prince Charming to awaken her to the world of happiness, to become the queen she truly is. "Regina" means queen.
Bernstein and his cinematographer develop Regina's loneliness and isolation through the early scenes in her apartment with stark lighting, empty flower vases, reflection shots, and one could even argue he was using blue gels to give the scenes an even moodier cast. Regina, engaging in an act of extreme voyeurism which is often all the elderly have to do, observes through binoculars the building and its inhabitants directly across the street. What is she looking for? Her cynical view of the world will certainly produce some nefarious possibilities, no? After all, she is a woman who trades upon this character flaw. Before long she witnesses Camargo, played subtly and expertly by veteran Brazilian actor Raul Cortez, give a woman an injection that kills her. Regina watches in horror, thinking the worst, as he then covers her head with the sheet, and uncovers her in perhaps a moment of tenderness and compassion, though Regina doesn't see that. The cynical voyeur sees murder! She calls the police, who come and go from Camargo's apartment. As the viewer I am immediately reminded of Hitchcock's "Rear Window". Bernstein has set in motion the mystery, and what unfolds is his version of love and hope that transcends age.
Snow White goes into high gear, as this event feeds her beliefs about the world. She understandably heads straight for the police station to divulge the crime to her contact Alcides, played ably by Luiz Carlos Persey. Alcides has put up with her nosy informing because she has produced results before, but this is too much. Camargo has been cleared of wrong-doing, and to Alcides this is just the ranting of an old woman who would believe her? Camargo was a powerful judge anyway before he retired, almost as an untouchable. Regina is on her own if she wants to prove her eyes right, and she "always trusts what she can see". She sets off to investigate Camargo herself, demonstrating more excessive risk-taking. What propels her to these behaviors? She says to Alcides at one point that she is even willing "to beat down drug dealers with her purse". Her life is empty, devoid of quality human contact that would fulfill her, replaced over time with these dangerous activities that are her only mechanism for feeling alive. Much like the addict needs more and more of the drug to combat the emptiness, she embarks on a crusade to seek fulfillment by finding facts to support what she thinks she has seen.
see part two for conclusion