Back in 2002, Brazilian director Fernando Meirelles astounded the world with City of God, a powerful gangster drama set in the world of Brazil’s favelas or slums. The idea took hold and was turned into a successful TV series. Now elements of that series have been returned to the big screen for what is essentially a cinematic follow-up to City of God, called City of Men.
If the difference in titles indicates anything, it is something to do with the relative scope of the movies. City of God has a broad sweep and an air of immutable destiny, as if made from the point of view of one of the Furies of ancient Greek myth. City of Men, by contrast, is more human in scale: it comes down to a couple of individual lives and suggests that there is a way to escape malign fate. It also, as its title hints, deals with masculinity itself in this society — and what that means for its protagonists, standing as they are on the cusp between youth and manhood.
Directed by Meirelles’ protégé Paolo Morelli, City of Men is rather less bleak than City of God, though still affecting. Its focus is somewhat narrower too; this allows it to go deeper into individual characters, specifically two young men who grew up together in the said slums of Rio de Janeiro and are now just about to hit adulthood amid the violent rivalries of the gangs that basically rule the favelas.
This pair is Acerola, nicknamed ‘Ace” (Douglas Silva), and Laranjinha (Darlan Cunha). They have grown up with the gang lifestyle (or deathstyle) a constantly beckoning presence, but have so far managed to resist being sucked into it. Yet it’s there, always, offering a way out of grinding poverty and lack of opportunity, even if it leads to an early death. The appeal of the gangs is made clear in the opening sequence of the movie, with swift, exhilarating flair.
A local drug lord has been holed up in his rooftop lair, looking down on the distant beach, for a long time. On this day, though, which happens to be a scorcher, he decides that it’s time to leave the safety of his hideout and hit the beach. Naturally, this means that a whole heavily armed gang must go with him, and as they wind their way down through the steep streets of the favela towards the beach this journey takes on qualities reminiscent of a cross between a royal progress and the movement of a pop star across the red carpet.
Ace is supposed to be staying at home looking after his infant son; he’s unemployed and his young wife is the breadwinner. But as the gangsters make their raucous way to the beach he’s caught up in the enthusiasm. Along with Laranjinha and the child, they head off to the beach too. And there, as they are distracted by hot bods and bling-hung gangsters, the trouble starts.
The lives of Ace and Laranjinha are inevitably affected by the gangs — and by their own histories. Neither knew his father, but a process of linked discovery will open up the past to them and show how the gangster life is deeply part of the existence of anyone living in the favelas. The gangs have their inevitable rivalries — fuelled by personal vendettas, which of course issue in violence — and innocent people will be caught in the crossfire. Escape is almost impossible: poverty and the absence of state intervention mean that the gangs are the power structure of this society. There’s not a policeman to be seen in the entire area.
Shot with saturated colours and cutaways to sweat-beaded skin, the film conveys plenty of atmosphere. You can almost feel the heat, which also ratchets up the intensity. There’s much human warmth, and humour too, in the mix. Perhaps the enticing look means that this world is a bit prettified in places, but the emotional impact of the story is not by any means diminished.
It’s something of a cliché by now to say it, but South Africa could be making movies like this (we’ve got plenty of our own favelas) and hitting international screens with them, as well as encouraging local audiences to come and see echoes of their own lives on our screens. Couldn’t we? Well, we did it with Tsotsi and, before that, TV’s Yizo Yizo did something similar, so it’s obvious that we could do it again. Let’s hope our filmmakers are going to rush out to see City of God and will be taking notes.