This week in class we watched Glauber Rocha’s Black God, White Devil from 1964. Like the film Barren Lives by the other leading Cinema Novo figure, Nelson Pereira dos Santos, the film is set in a desert-like landscape where unprivileged Brazilians maneuver poverty and hierarchies of power and class mobility. Like some of the other films we have watched previously in class, such as Barravento, and Maranhão 66 which are also directed by Rocha, the film showcases multiple scenes of violence as implied by Rocha’s manifesto, Aesthetics of Hunger. Additionally, Barravento from last week reminded me a bit of the Luis Buñuel’s film Los Olvidados or the english title The Young and The Damned, as the film follows a group of children that also live in extreme poverty in Mexico city. Like Barravento, there is a scene where a chicken gets violently killed/decapitated at the hands of young people. This imagery reminded me Rocha’s manifesto and how poverty, violence and hunger are framed within the context of youth living in impoverished, developing countries.

I found the film to be very impactful in the way in which storytelling and folklore were used as allegory for a larger issue of change and modernity. It also was there to represent a resistance towards oppression. I think nature was there to playa role. Nature, the ocean in this case, was a character. It also interesting to analyze the relationship the characters had to indoor vs outdoor spaces. What was considered in doors vs what was considered outdoors.

In Glaber Rocha’s 1962 film Barravento, I was struck by the narrative’s conflicting ideals: the tensions between urban/rural, religious salvation/revolutionary salvation, and tradition/education. Firmino was fascinating to me as a character who simultaneously utilizes and rejects the customs of the oppressed class he was born into. He absolutely could have been written as a savior of sorts, an enlightened member of his community sent to save his people. But Rocha makes clear the contradictions of this kind of trope, setting apart Firmino from the community he is attempting to educate by literally having him wear the clothing of the oppressor. Although his intentions are meant to be helpful, his actions bastardized their way of life, using a spell to rid them of their veneration of Aruã and slicing the net. The film left us with an ambiguous ending without a clear answer. It would have been simple for Rocha to have insisted on either side, but in keeping the nuances of the story, he abides by the balance between didactic and epic he wrote of in “The Revolution is Aesthetics”. I enjoyed our class discussion on the role of women in this film. It was interesting to me how women held the religious power in this community, yet still were not quite viewed as people. It seemed that women were relegated to two boxes: the respected yet impersonal, stock, group of older women, and the individual yet sexualized attractive women.

Barravento speaks from the perspective of those who experience firsthand Western colonization. While the fishing community do still have a sense of culture that they can preserve through their religious practices it is when the introduction of another ideology that disrupts the sense of normalcy that the village hold. Firmino’s once well intentioned actions towards the community’s traditions is representative of how education can transform one’s way of living and how it can be frightening to endure if you’re not ready to go through the process of decolonization. Aruã’s choice to leave for the city at the conclusion of the film suggests that this cycle of education may persist and can potentially lead to more pushback against the Western influence on the villagers and to help break the chains of oppression that they have endured since their ancestors were forced to come to Brazil.

Marxists view on religion is that the people turn to it as a result of their oppression. The solution to this is not the abandonment of the religion, but to fix the material conditions so that religion is not so necessary. 

An issue highlighted in Barravento is that religion cannot be relied upon to bring good fortune, as multiple fisherman die because of it. So the issue highlighted is that religion can protect, but also destroy and the villagers must learn to fend for themselves. In straying from the religion they become more independent. Simultaneously the independence of the villagers is deeply rooted in their religion, thus the conflict. 

The way the film is made seems very authentic and as though it has very little interference in the candomble and fishing elements. In this way the characters feel more real and the essence of the religion and people is better encapsulated. When the characters are given more direction, it serves to heighten the epic within the film and advance the plot. This is not to say natural actions and direction are not interspersed between the didactic and epic as it is truly a fusion. Ultimately this creates a very tenable feeling with the film, that I am not going to forget any time soon.

Barravento stands as a powerful testament to Glauber Rocha’s revolutionary vision in cinema. In this film, Rocha deftly intertwines documentary realism with mythic, symbolic imagery to explore the lives of Afro-Brazilian communities facing exploitation and social marginalization. His approach is both confrontational and poetic, as he uses raw, unfiltered depictions of everyday hardship to underline broader themes of injustice and resistance. The narrative unfolds with a deliberate pace that invites viewers to witness the profound struggles and innate resilience of its characters—a reflection of Rocha’s commitment to a cinema that is as much a tool for political critique as it is a form of art.

What truly resonated with me about Barravento was its uncompromising authenticity. Rocha’s vision is evident in every frame—from the haunting landscapes that evoke the spiritual essence of the region to the intimate portrayals of individuals whose lives are shaped by relentless socio-economic pressures. The film’s blending of ritualistic elements with everyday reality creates a cinematic language that challenges conventional storytelling. I appreciated how Rocha did not shy away from depicting the harsh realities of life; instead, he transformed them into a call for social awareness and change. This fusion of the epic and the didactic not only enriches the narrative but also serves as a potent reminder of cinema’s power to inspire and provoke critical thought.

In Barravento, women are portrayed with a complexity that reflects both their essential role in sustaining cultural and religious traditions and the vulnerability they face within rigid social structures. The film presents female characters as vital carriers of communal memory and spiritual life, actively participating in religious rituals that bind the community together. At the same time, these portrayals also reveal the constraints imposed on them by a system steeped in tradition and, at times, exploitation.

While Barravento is not an overtly feminist film in the modern sense, it does contain elements that resonate with feminist critiques—particularly the recognition of women’s indispensable contributions to cultural continuity and resistance. The women in the film are depicted as both powerful in their roles as nurturers of tradition and simultaneously marginalized by a patriarchal framework that often limits their agency. This duality invites a reexamination of traditional gender roles and challenges the viewer to consider the importance of elevating women’s voices within their communities.

Regarding its relevance to contemporary society, Barravento offers a nuanced reflection on the ongoing struggle for gender equality. It underscores the idea that while women continue to be the backbone of cultural and spiritual life, there remains an urgent need to empower them further and dismantle structures that confine their potential. In this light, the film can be seen as a call to action—one that, even if not explicitly feminist, encourages modern audiences to acknowledge and address the persistent disparities in how women are valued and represented.

-Amyy Mubeen

   During Tuesday’s class, we watched the film Barravento (1962) and discussed many aspects of it afterwards. During this discussion – sparked by a question from the final slide during a classmate’s presentation – we discussed how the film views and presents women. Many of my classmates brought up many points supporting the view that the film gives women a very important role in the society of Barravento (1962). Women are in charge during religious ceremonies and are the only seen religious leaders. They try to keep others in the village from using spells to curse people and are the people’s moral compass. I agree that women do play a significant role in the film’s religion,Candomblé, however, I feel like the film is more complicated with how it treats the women in this film. The camera and plot don’t treat women who are religious leaders the same way it treats women the audience is supposed to be attracted to. This could be entirely unintentional,but these older women are “othered” from the younger women in the film. The younger women in the film are allowed to be sexual and are sexualized by the camera. During a scene where the people are dancing,there are low angle shots that focus on the breasts of the younger women as they move. This continues in the medium shots where there is a focus on the woman’s rear end as she dances. Maybe I am internalizing Western views on sex that associate these moves with sensuality,but I did notice that there isn’t as much focus put on the men when they do the same dance. The camera doesn’t focus on the same areas when it turns towards the older woman. Instead of zooming in on their rumps,the camera puts focus on their arm movement,and in one case a woman’s feet. Even if one was to argue that it was due to religion,I’d like to point out that the younger women who also play a religious role are allowed to be seen as pretty. In one frame of a younger woman in religious clothing,a woman is framed like a painting. A single tear runs down her cheek when she is upset in the scene,showing her sadness while not making the “ugly” faces that people usually make when crying. The younger women are allowed to be seen as sexy and elegant by the audience while the older women are not.

-Jahsira Williams

The cinematography of the film was very beautiful. For mostly outdoor scenes, daylight scenes in white clothes, the characters looked gorgeous. The narrative of the film was comprehensible but lacked an emotional connection for me. Firmino definitely felt more like a trickster, chaotic character than one that deeply cared about his community. He was willing to sacrifice anyone (Cota, Aura, Vincent etc) in order to shake the foundation of the community. I do agree that a revolution was needed, but Firmino’s desires felt unfinished, especially as the film leave us mourning with the community with another death (or potential sacrifice to Yemenja) of a fisherman.

The themes of religion are potent. It seems like most socialists/communists/Marxists do struggle with the role of religion in the revolution. For Africans who were trafficked and enslaved, elements of their religion are what ties them back to Africa. It provides a tether to their home identity. However, maybe the domination they experienced and the Catholic elements are what keeps oppressed people in a state of coping with their situation instead of revolting.

Rocha does allow space for the power of Candomble and women to shine in the film. The precipice of the “turning wind” means that Yemenja is powerful, her daughters are powerful—so sacrifices are required. He (and Firmino) seems to call on the religion to provide that “turning wind” for a new social order.

Lastly, for me, Rocha’s lens and story is lacking for the female characters: Cota firmly placed in her status and is used by Firmino and Naina in her constant weeping.

I also do accept that there’s tons of context I’m missing as an American, and non practitioner of Candomble.

This week in class we watched Glauber Rocha’s Barravento from 1962, and Arrial Do Cabo, from 1960. Although they are in different locations, Both of the films focus on the fisherman communities and fishing process in Brazil in the early 1960s. Arrial Do Cabo is a short that follows the preserving of fish, at the end of the film showing how the workers wind down after work. Although cinematically and compositionally the films are beautiful, they both have brutal subject matter-at least I found it hard to watch at times. The films both show the fish struggling to stay alive, on their last breath as they have been pulled out of the water in order to be preserved in salt for consumption. Additionally, Barravento shows an alive chicken being beaten to death. This sort of imagery reminded me of the short that was shown last week, Maranhão 66, which is also by Rocha. It shows extreme poverty in Brazil including children in slums, starved sick patients in hospitals and unpaid healthcare workers. This imagery aligns with Rocha’s manifesto, aesthetics of hunger, as it depicts the violence that is received and given by marginalized people in Brazil, as well as the conditions poor Brazilians live under hunger, both literal and in terms of social mobility.

I really enjoyed our class discussion on Di Calvacanti, Rocha’s film honoring his late friend. The film was highly controversial due to the tone it took on and many of my peers, including myself, agreed that the film felt insensitive and disrespectful to Calvacanti’s loved ones. However, if one is able to look past that, one is able to appreciate the film. The whole film portrays an intense feeling of distress. With how Rocha is speaking throughout the film along with the frantic edits and cuts, the film encapsulates Rocha’s potential guilt and regret of not appreciating his dear friend while he was alive. It also feels like a very rebellious film— as if Rocha knew about the controversy that would spark and how he did not care about upsetting anyone. In the film, we hear the lines “film irritates daughters” and we see images of newspapers headlining “Rocha films the whole thing [the funeral].” It felt as though he wanted to show that he knew what he was doing and he knew that this needed to be done. This turned out to be a very intense and emotional film— very well done— but it seems to be made at the expense of others.