Ventos de Agosto (2014)

directed by Gabriel Mascaro
Brazil
77 minutes
4.5 stars out of 5
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I wasn't particularly interested in Ventos de Agosto to be honest; I think I had the idea that it was going to be something a lot more lewd than it actually was. Which is why I was surprised when it turned out to be more along the lines of slow/contemplative cinema, although the parameters of that particular sub-genre are hard to grasp much of the time. 

Even more surprising to me was that it turns out this is one of my favorite entries into the slow cinema canon so far, because it doesn't ask too much of the viewer. There are slow cinema films that are incredibly complex, that evoke heartbreak and emotion with nothing more than several still frames, and then there is this. If it evokes anything it's a strong desire to lay back and listen to the wind for a while. Very, very little happens in terms of plot, and it's almost humorous how Netflix describes it: "Shirley has a fling with Jeison when she moves to his windswept seaside town, where time, tides and a dead body erode their youthful dispositions". It is painfully obvious how hard they had to reach to make it sound appealing, even though it's an excellent film as is. They play up the dead body more than is necessary because it's the sole notable thing that happens during the movie.

Probably my favorite thing about this is how very Brazilian it is: When people think of Brazil, I feel like most of them think of Rio, partying, and nightlife, but this movie chooses to focus on "small-town" Brazil, forgoing neon lights and vice for characters who never leave the small village they inhabit. Life moves at a snail's pace: Shucking coconuts, throwing coconuts into a truck, street dogs drifting in and out of the frame, boating various rivers, laying naked on a boat next to a dead octopus, laying around various places listening to punk music, ad infinitum. The appearance of a dead body is an unusual plot point because it brings a reminder of mortality to an otherwise vibrant (yet molasses-like) setting. That goes to show that there was depth to this beyond "attractive people milling about".

Speaking of that depth, there's a short sequence with the director himself going around recording ambient noise (wind, other peoples' radios, the tides) and I feel like that was intended to be self-referential. Field recordings are often seen as meaningless and weird when people miss the point of them, much like Ventos de Agosto and the whole of slow cinema.

At only 75 minutes, there's more complexity to this than meets the eye. It's as nuanced as life is, invading an area of cinema previously ruled only by Apichatpong Weerasethakul. Despite some nasty weather and the presence of a rotting, unidentified corpse, this movie makes me really, really want to go and visit a small village in Brazil. Maybe that wasn't the intention but that's my main takeaway.