sneersnipe film review

The Machine (A Maquina) Joao Falcao Brazil 2006

To dwell or to roam, to stay or to go, this is a conundrum that has taxed mankind since time immemorial. For most of the inhabitants of Nordestina, Northeastern Brazil, where João Falcão’s The Machine is set, the answer is simple: up sticks and head for Rio or São Paulo at the earliest opportunity. There is, however, one inhabitant of the town who has no desire to leave. Antonio, the protagonist, is the last of thirteen brothers, twelve of whom have already made the journey south. He declines to join their number because his heart belongs in Nordestina, to one of his neighbours, Katrina. Yet, If Antonio wants nothing more than to stay and settle, Katrina has her eye on wider horizons, on becoming an actress in a telenovela and making her way in the wider world. In order to keep his intended in Nordestina, Antônio swears to bring the world to her. In a desperate ploy to coax the eye of the world to focus on this forgotten part of Brazil, Antonio promises a live television audience that he will time-travel live on air from his home town. The world converges on this little patch of Brazil’s arid backlands. The question is: can Antonio fulfil his pledge? And if he can, can he provide proof?

The Machine is a fun slice of filmmaking, one that doesn’t wholly convince, but which entertains and diverts. It is structured like a contemporary fairy tale, with Antônio, the prince, facing up to the challenges of a hostile world in order to win Karina, his princess, and live happily ever after. Bolted on to this eminently traditional framework is a broad satire of the cult of celebrity, consumer culture and other aspects of contemporary Brazilian culture that aims for targets so wide it cannot possibly miss or have any real bite. Nonetheless, it is hard not to laugh at oddities such as a shopping mall enlivened with a huge replica of the Statue of Liberty (which in fact exists in Rio, and provokes a Brazilian version of the cultural cringe in those unfortunate enough to consider such a ‘homage’ unbearably crass). Where The Machine comes alive is in the many moments of shear exuberance, such as the musical sequences that blend Northeastern popular culture with a Tropicália sensibility – the video for the mock band The Sconhecidos and the Carnival scene are particularly beguiling.

The Machine starts slowly, and initially feels at times a little like a children’s programme. The sort of kitsch-y mishmash aesthetic it adopts might not immediately appeal to all English viewers, but Falcão’s film gains narrative strength as it progress, and the ending, even if it ignores all and every logical problem associated with time-travel, is as simple and genuinely touching as the traditional tales The Machine emulates.

pmc