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Karim Aïnouz ’s Madame Satã is a lush, visual
eye-feast of exotic, smoke-filled bars and cobble-stoned alleyways
that plummet and heave through the Lapa district of Rio. The
favala never looked so good. This ain’t no City
Of God, with its brutally realistic depictions of Brazilian
slums awash with unspeakable violence. And while the characters
in that film were fictional but believably true, in Madame
Satã the streets are inhabited by João Francisco
and his sad rundown friends, actual people and events from
1930s Rio de Janeiro.
Aïnouz’s film concerns the infamous João Francisco; he longs
to be the femme fatale star of his own one-woman cabaret,
but instead he settles as an assistant to a verbally abusive
chanteuse. Sick of her constant put-downs, João goes nuts
one night and trashes her dressing room. But with well rounded
equality he also heaps abuse on his housemates: Taboo, an
effeminate partner in occasional homosexual scams, and Laurita,
a prostitute whose better days have long since passed. In
a nutshell it’s the manic relationship between all three that
makes Madame Satã such a compelling film. João is
a charming friend and provider one moment, but he quickly
changes to a mean-spirited lout the next. Why do Taboo and
Laurita put up with the mood swings? Because ultimately all
they have is each other. On top of it all, theirs is an existence
of poetic beauty and sorrow. Even at night their clothes stick
to their sweaty bodies in the heavy tropical air, but Laurita,
João, and Taboo seem indifferent to corporeal discomforts.
They are tormented instead by personal demons that emanate
from within.
João’s future is almost preordained when he beats up a greasy
customer who attempts unsuccessfully to forcibly procure the
services of Laurita. During the scuffle, a gun is wrestled
away from João’s witless victim, but João refuses to use it.
“Real men use their fists” he shouts defiantly. But we know
he doesn’t want to be a real man, and this will eventually
lead to his undoing.
Madame Satã has one flaw and that is its somewhat
deceptive title. If you’re looking for a drag queen tale with
complex issues of dual sexuality, you won’t entirely find
it here. Part of the promotional buzz for this picture revolves
around the notoriety and popularity of Madame Satã, who is
well known in Brazil but less so here. After being released
from prison for murder, João goes on to win the 1942 Best
Costume Contest at Carnival, donning an outfit of red and
orange sequins. Sata or “Satan” or “devil” is the imagery
the costume is supposed to conjure up, and this is clearly
intended to describe the complex personality of João as well.
But this fact is only mentioned at the end of the film as
a textual footnote; we never see Madame Satã/João in said
outfit at all. Madame Satã should really be titled
Madame Satã Part I, The Prequel, or The
Making Of A Drag Queen. Despite its rushed conclusion,
João’s early life story is still a part worth watching.
—Nancy Semin
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