Black God, White Devil

Othon Bastos as the bandit Corisco

Glauber Rocha's Black God, White Devil, from 1964, is an impressive allegorical Western and the harbinger of the Cinema Nova movement in Brazil. Rocha was well versed in Hollywood Westerns, his second feature calls to my mind the work of Budd Boetticher in its use of the arid plains of Northeast Brazil as a backdrop for a stark and violent morality play; albeit one that is a Marxist rejoinder to American Westerns. In this, Black God, White Devil bears a resemblance to the work of Sergio Leone and his compadres who were revitalizing the Western genre in Italy. Happily, the film is not merely a pastiche of classic Westerns, but fluidly incorporates such very Brazilian motifs as religious mysticism, folklore, and the impoverishment of the rural poor. The folk ballads of Sérgio Ricardo offer a commentary on and counterpoint to the action and helps along the film's transitional sequences. Otherwise, Rocha uses orchestral music for satiric effect.

The film tells the story of Manoel (Geraldo Del Rey), a tenant farmer who resorts to violence when he feels cheated by his boss. Manoel and his wife, Rosa (Yoná Magalhães), flee into the hinterlands. Eventually they join, in succession, two groups that represent differing rural responses to the corrupt urban based federal government. One is a populist religious group led by a self proclaimed saint named Sebastião (Lidio Silva), a character loosely based on Antônio Conselheiro who lead a peasant rebellion in the late 19th century. His War of Canudos is told in riveting fashion in Mario Vargas Llosa's wonderful novel, The War at the End of the War. Conselheiro supported a fairer shake for the rural poor, but his movement was more reactionary than progressive. One of the issues that united his supporters was opposition to the metric system which the rural poor felt had been unfairly imposed on them by the feds. 

Manoel and Rosa quickly become disillusioned with Sebastião despite his preaching against wealthy landowners. They next join force with a roving and scuzzy band of brigands (known in Brazil as Cangaço) led by the blood crazed Corisco. They soon suss that Corisco is more interested in rape, pillage, and torture than building a better tomorrow and react accordingly. All through the picture, Manoel and his various compatriots are stalked by a taciturn bounty hunter hired by the rich and powerful named Antonio das Mortes (Mauricio do Valle). Antonio pronounces Rocha's credo in the film: that reactionary figures like Corisco and Sebastião need to be eliminated from Brazil for a true (i.e. Marxist) change to occur. Like Bertolucci in 1964, Rocha was viewing modern history as being before the inevitable revolution. Rocha liked the character enough to bring him (and do Valle) back for a quasi sequel in 1969, this time in color. The film, alternately titled Antonio das Mortes or The Dragon of Wickedness Against the Holy Warrior, would garner Rocha the Best Director award at Cannes that year.

Black God, White Devil is a handsome and assured picture despite its B level budget. All the actors offer vivid performances and are expertly handled. Del Rey reminded me of the young George O'Brian. The black and white photography gives the ridiculous and gruesome action a disturbing and flea bitten grandeur. Their are a few slow spots, the penitential tortures Manoel undergoes under Sebastião's tutelage taxed my patience, but Rocha's spritely editing generally moves this two hour picture along. Overall, better than A Fistful of Dollars, but not For a Few Dollars More.