A still from the film "Madame Sata."
Grit and glitter played equal parts in Thursday night’s Yale Film Archive presentation of Karim Ainouz’s Madame Sata, the 2002 film based on the true story of Brazilian legend Joao Francisco dos Santos, who fights his way through the streets and onto the stages of 20th-century Rio de Janiero to become a prominent trans performer who considers himself a “disciple” of Josephine Baker.
The 35-mm vintage print, which managing archivist Brian Meacham introduced as being part of the Wellspring Collection of films at YFA, was described by him as “in a way, ahead of its time” while also “evoking Brazil in this period.”
“It feels very authentic to me,” he added. “But also fresh, a new take on this story.”
That story begins in this film with Francisco dos Santos himself — played with a fiery anger and palpable passion by Lazaro Ramos — in a beaten-up mug shot pose on May 12, 1932, being described in a multitude of ways, including “threat to society.” We next see him back in time, peeking out from behind a beaded curtain in a club lip synching to the song being sung on stage by performer Vitoria, with his eyes closed and the beads caressing his skin. She recites a story from the Arabian Nights, and he too seems transported elsewhere.
Those club scenes are intermixed with Francisco dos Santos’s other life, one that includes prostitutes and thieves, of which he is one. He lives with two of those prostitutes, Tabu and Laurita, as well as Laurita’s child. In this found family he is a strict and occasionally abusive leader, taking them to task for not getting their tasks done. He is quick to anger, and then just as quick to offer love, attention, and nourishment. A scene where the three are celebrating Francisco dos Santos’s releases from jail conveys the affection the threesome has for one another and the ties that bind them.
Francisco dos Santos is as adept a street fighter as he is a performer, and he catches the eye of thief Renato (who he immediately dubs Renatinho). Renato wants Francisco dos Santos to teach him how to fight. They eventually become lovers. Their relationship pushes Francisco dos Santos to the stage, and to his eventual destiny as Madame Sata, a stage act that paid homage to Cecil B. DeMille’s Madame Satan.
That expression of Francisco dos Santos in the bars and on the stage releases him from the shadows, which play a huge part in this film. So much happens in dark alleys and hallways, in low-lit rooms and corners. It is the opposite of what happens when Francisco dos Santos is covered in glitter and beads, dancing and singing to his adoring fans.
“I was born an outlaw and that’s how I will live,” he says at one point, but he also acknowledges that something is amiss inside of him.
“I want to straighten myself out,” he tells Laurita. “You were born bent,” she responds.
Francisco dos Santos may be bent but he refuses to break, and fight after fight still does not resolve the “anger without end” he describes inside of him that he can’t explain.
I was reminded of another film where the character’s internalizing of who he truly is evokes expressions of rage and anger: Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain, in which Heath Ledger’s Ennis Del Mar gives us a master class in repression that ends up isolating him. In this film, however, Francisco dos Santos finally finds a place to shine as his authentic self. Ramos’s portrayal of him is another master class: he can be lusty, loud, lewd, but also tender at times. He can break your heart. The viewer is constantly brought in and out of the shadows with him, going from a street fight to a song to cursing out a loved one to caressing his lover’s cheek. Do we cheer for him or do we judge him? Is he a mirror for all of us to see our own struggles in?
Under Ainouz’s direction, we see it all played out not just in Rio’s shadows and corners, but on the beach and in the parks. Shots go from blurry to sharp, extreme closeups that show goosebumps on skin and an open mouth singing for its soul. All of it makes the film a mesmerizing portrait of a moment in history and a man who dared to be different, even if it cost him. The price to pay for not being himself was also too steep.
“Why can’t I go on like anybody else?” he asks Laurita at one point. “Because you are not like anybody else,” she answers.
We need these types of films now more than ever, if nothing else to be reminded that not being like everyone else might be what we all have in common.
Yale Film Archive has four more films scheduled in its fall series, all free and open to the public. See the archive’s website for more details.