Perhaps no better metaphor for Brazil in 1977 exists than the dead body that lies in front of a gas station in the opening scene of “The Secret Agent.” Haphazardly covered with flaps of cardboard and stinking to high heaven, the corpse is ignored by police and gawked at by rubberneckers. The worsening predicament staring everyone in the face goes unacknowledged. Thirteen years into a brutal military dictatorship that persecutes political dissidents and censors free press, Brazil is DOA — but no one seems to care.
To the gas station attendant’s disappointment, the two police officers who stop by couldn’t give less of a damn about the body. They’re here for Marcelo (Wagner Moura), a former university professor journeying north to his hometown of Recife through the revelry of Brazil’s Carnival. We don’t know yet why Marcelo is alone in his yellow Volkswagen Beetle holding an address scribbled on a folded piece of paper, or why the cops are grasping at straws to find a reason to book him. But it’s clear nothing is as it should be, and we should be just as on edge as Marcelo.
Moura embodies this anxiety expertly, with a laid-back, seemingly effortless performance that obscures his character’s complex history and psychology. Marcelo’s real name is Armando, and he’s going to Recife to hide out in an apartment complex with fellow political refugees. He bides time working at the city’s identification archive until he can secure fake passports for himself and his young son, Fernando (Enzo Nunes), so they can escape the country.
“The Secret Agent” introduces a wide cast of characters, not the least of whom are unfriendly. The paunchy, obnoxious police chief (Robério Diógenes) and his two dull, loyal sons take a less-than-willing Armando under their wing. Unknown to the latter, the trio are hosting a father-stepson duo (Roney Villela and Gabriel Leone) who have been hired to assassinate Armando. Their employer is a disrespectful corporate executive (Luciano Chirolli) with a personal vendetta. On the friendly side, Armando’s father-in-law (Carlos Francisco) is raising Fernando while the sharpest and most lovable old lady imaginable, Dona Sebastiana (Tânia Maria), shelters Armando.
Writer-director Kleber Mendonça Filho weaves a masterful tapestry of these characters’ narratives while infusing powerful symbolism. Sharks feature throughout, from the one the police find washed ashore with a severed human leg in its mouth to the one in “Jaws,” a movie 8-year-old Fernando is dying to watch at the theater where his grandfather works as a projectionist. Dona Sebastiana’s two-faced cat is a wondrous mark of perseverance in a suffocating Recife, personified by a devil-faced carnival costume that haunts Armando’s nightmares.
The second Brazilian movie to garner international acclaim in as many years, “The Secret Agent” will inevitably be compared to “I’m Still Here.” Much like Walter Salles’ recent Oscar winner, Mendonça Filho’s film grapples with memory, both on a personal level and in terms of the Brazilian consciousness. The movie dedicates a portion of its runtime to the present day, not in the form of an epilogue like in “I’m Still Here,” but as a B-plot that culminates in a devastating final scene. As Armando evades his assassins in 1977, university students relive his story through digitized tape recordings. The visceral events we’ve been watching become files on a screen, accessible with two clicks. “Which date are you listening to?” they ask each other.
Mendonça Filho’s statement here is perhaps more pessimistic than Salles’: There’s no grand family reunion for Armando like there was for Eunice Paiva. But as the students rewind the tapes and comb through old newspaper clippings, Mendonça Filho reminds us how important it is to hold onto the past. Looking back on traumatic history, he highlights the role of technology and computers as a link to times gone by.
Back in 1977, as assassins close in, Armando searches frantically through the identification archives for a record of his mother. But her name is too common and proof of her existence is relegated to Armando’s memories. We cannot allow this to happen today, Mendonça Filho tells us. We must remember our past, the vibrant families, just as well as we do the unjust persecution. We can’t just leave the corpse rotting.
“The Secret Agent” is part of a new movement in Brazilian cinema that urges viewers to hold onto history, to prevent past horrors from repeating and remember the valiance of those who fought them. If we heed the call, perhaps we can move toward a true elevation of the global consciousness of the past.
Contact Leo Field at [email protected].