Executive Order

Executive Order starts in the court room as Antonio, a young black lawyer fights a case for reparations for Afro-Brazilians. Meanwhile, a number of Brazilian news reporters live stream footage of an old black lady entering the department of state to collect the very first reparations payment in the country. However, just as you think this is going to be a utopia from the positive start, the government officials turn the old lady away, kicking off a downward cycle of police presence and prejudice against Afro-Brazilians.

The cases of blatant and behind-closed-doors racism that the director presents don’t feel too surprising. The scenes – such as the one featuring the racist man in the bar – feel carbon copies of similar scenes documenting racist events from Hollywood movies. Neither is the descent of the country into a dystopian fascist state that forcibly deports all people with African blood back to Africa as we’ve already seen bleak dystopias on screen in The Handmaid’s Tale. However, the surprising part is that it’s mostly presented in a pretty upbeat manner. The music, colorful pictures, and light banter between the main characters matches the light tone of a Spike Lee neighborhood film. It gives the film a gospel-ish feel – that despite all the terrible things going on, there’s still hope for the Afro-Brazilian characters. Maybe it would have been too hard to see this film without the upbeat tone considering the current state of Brazilian politics. So instead of being a gritty, depressing film, Executive Order is a palatable Hollywood-style dystopian drama that allows space for a few laughs at the absurdity of the white supremacist state.

Whilst it could have been more ‘radical’ and a bit less obvious, it’s good to see a light hearted drama that anyone can watch and enjoy tackle rarely mentioned topics like reparations on the big screen.


Head to our LALIFF 2021 Hub for more reviews from the 20th edition of LALIFF.

Medusa

Medusa is another genre-bending movie set in contemporary Brazil (see Bacurau, Good Manners, Executive Order, or Divine Love) that corresponds with the rise in the far right and radical Christianity in Brazil. The focus of this film is on how the patriarchy is upheld by radical Christian women

In modern day Brazil, a woman watches a sexy music video of a woman dancing on her way home on the night bus. When she gets off, she’s tailed by a gang of masked women. She tries to escape, but can’t. They gang up on her, beat her up, and force her to swear fealty to Jesus and to become a good Christian woman.

The attackers are Mariana and her female friends from the local evangelical church. Their horror-genre influenced masks are obviously intimidating. However, behind the mask they’re even more sinister. Instead of carrying faces that show years of trauma and fear they carry pristine smiles and clean pastel clothes. They look like a group of preppy high-school girls and not like your typical group of thugs. Their smiles and matching identity give them a cold collective assuredness that their violence is right and justified, when it isn’t. It also highlights a lack of individuality stemming from the strict codes of their social bubble – no one wants to stand out for fear of being identified with the other, so they all try to one-up each other in their devotional acts in order to maintain their social position. They’ve already started beating up people in the street, so what are they capable of next?

The design of the film makes it clear Mariana is brainwashed by her bubble of existence. The church she attends with her friends is flavored with hypnotizing 80’s music and dystopian neon lights and features coordinated song and dance routines that make them look robotic. Plus the microphone holding, slick talking, smartly dressed preacher gives off hints of snake oil salesmen before we see his ‘miracles.’ The whole radical Christian experience is designed to indoctrinate Mariana and her friends. Plus as a reward, they get friends like them, and corresponding male counterparts in the beefy ‘Watchmen’ group that attends their same church.

Problem is they can’t control everything in their own lives. They’re still victims to the patriarchy that plays them – both represented in the male religious pastor they fervently follow and the male ‘Watchmen’ they’re expected to date and marry. They can either continue to live for the radical Christian patriarchy and stay in their bubble, or break free by expanding their bubble until it pops.


Head to our AFI Fest 2021 Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2021.

Andorre

Andorre Film Difficulty Ranking: 3

Andorre presents a dystopian vision of Andorra without dialogue in twenty minutes. The city is constructed with slow pan shots of glass buildings, duty free shops, and skiers backed by a futuristic electronic soundtrack. It’s a commentary on the vapidity of life in Andorra and a critique of the culture draining effects of globalization.

From: Andorra, Europe
Watch: IMDb, YouTube
Next: Androids Dream, Ascension, Notturno

Andorre – The Breakdown

This observational documentary short reminded me of Jessica Kingdon’s Ascension. Like in Ascension, Andorre features a lot of still and pan shots of everyday situations to create a picture of their subject country. In Andorre these pan shots focus on icons of globalization, such as duty-free shopping shelves (cigarettes, alcohol, candy) and fitness centers. These shots are book-ended by shots of people entering and leaving the country at the border, highlighting the transient status of the people in the city. Add in the lack of dialogue and there is no sign of local life or culture.

It’s not just local life that is absent, but human life is also overlooked in this short. Commercial products are the focus of most of the pan shots. We’re shown aisles of duty-free shopping (cigarettes, alcohol, candy, jewelry) complemented by commercials for the same type of products. Culture has been sucked away in this place and replaced by commercials.

The spacey-electronic soundtrack completes the short’s dystopian globalist portrayal of Andorra. It sounds eeire and futuristic, like a Bladerunner soundtrack composed by a knock-off Vangelis which sets the tone of the shots we’re shown. The only other sounds that we’re allowed to hear are the ambient sounds of cars, footsteps, and a few words from a tour guide. They’re always heard at a distance, behind the spacey-electronic soundtrack, making reality feel further away. The sound completes the short by adding a dystopian tint to the vapid globalist images we’re shown.

Conclusion

The director, Virgil Vernier, creates a dystopian vision of Andorra by editing together a range of everyday shots of the city alongside a futuristic electronic soundtrack. It’s simple, but very effective. If you’re interested in visiting Andorra, watch this before or after you go.