Don't look for the brilliant revolutionary prose of Guimarães Rosa's novel "Campo Geral" in Sandra Kogut's "Mutum". Kogut dropped the impossible task of making a "faithful" adaptation of the unfilmable book, and wisely opted for a sort of " visual translation": instead of having the mostly non- professional cast (the only exception is pro João Miguel as the father) speak Rosa's highly stylized vernacular (it would sound horribly phony on screen), Kogut minimizes and simplifies dialog to concentrate on atmosphere. The images and sounds are so "palpable" the film becomes an impressionist, almost tactile experience: we can "feel" the dust, the hot sun, the sudden windstorms, and even seem to smell the scent of the heavy rain, of the horses and chickens.
We follow the coming of age of 9 year-old Thiago (originally named Miguilim in Rosa's novel), a sensitive, quiet boy living with his family in a humble, isolated farm in the back land of Minas Gerais (Southeast Brazil). Thiago's simple joys -- laughing at his parrot, playing with his siblings, contemplating nature -- become threatened by a series of events he can't understand: something seems to be going on between his mother and his uncle (his father's brother); Thiago's hard-working, no-nonsense father resents him for being "weird" (too sensitive) and makes him work in the fields, though Thiago's frail arms can hardly lift the shovel. Thiago's world is in shambles after the sudden illness and death of his adorable younger brother Felipe, filling him with guilt, anguish and grief.
Grand winner at Rio de Janeiro International Film Festival 2007, "Mutum" has major assets: it's a triumphant fiction debut for documaker Kogut, who mixes improvised and rehearsed scenes seamlessly and has her non-professional cast dive head-first into the difficult emotional scenes, with the two boys playing Thiago and Felipe immediately winning our hearts (the controversial work of omnipresent acting coach Fátima Toledo is flawless this time). Mauro Pinheiro's cinematography is as unaffected and richly textured as his work in "Cinema, Aspirinas e Urubus", and the film's pace is thankfully unhurried. Kogut's decision not to use background music is possibly her wisest move: we're never "told" what to feel, and the huge wealth of natural sounds makes us feel right there in that isolated, timeless piece of land.
Perhaps the last 10 minutes aren't quite on the same level of what's come before; the denouement feels rather blunt, as Thiago's life is changed when he casually finds out he's shortsighted (and that works on both literal and metaphorical levels). Anyway, in its delicate, unpretentious, impressionistic simplicity, "Mutum" is a gem of understated beauty and exhilarating grace, if only to give us a break from the exhausting, exhibitionist, empty hyperactivity of most of the contemporary film-making styles.
We follow the coming of age of 9 year-old Thiago (originally named Miguilim in Rosa's novel), a sensitive, quiet boy living with his family in a humble, isolated farm in the back land of Minas Gerais (Southeast Brazil). Thiago's simple joys -- laughing at his parrot, playing with his siblings, contemplating nature -- become threatened by a series of events he can't understand: something seems to be going on between his mother and his uncle (his father's brother); Thiago's hard-working, no-nonsense father resents him for being "weird" (too sensitive) and makes him work in the fields, though Thiago's frail arms can hardly lift the shovel. Thiago's world is in shambles after the sudden illness and death of his adorable younger brother Felipe, filling him with guilt, anguish and grief.
Grand winner at Rio de Janeiro International Film Festival 2007, "Mutum" has major assets: it's a triumphant fiction debut for documaker Kogut, who mixes improvised and rehearsed scenes seamlessly and has her non-professional cast dive head-first into the difficult emotional scenes, with the two boys playing Thiago and Felipe immediately winning our hearts (the controversial work of omnipresent acting coach Fátima Toledo is flawless this time). Mauro Pinheiro's cinematography is as unaffected and richly textured as his work in "Cinema, Aspirinas e Urubus", and the film's pace is thankfully unhurried. Kogut's decision not to use background music is possibly her wisest move: we're never "told" what to feel, and the huge wealth of natural sounds makes us feel right there in that isolated, timeless piece of land.
Perhaps the last 10 minutes aren't quite on the same level of what's come before; the denouement feels rather blunt, as Thiago's life is changed when he casually finds out he's shortsighted (and that works on both literal and metaphorical levels). Anyway, in its delicate, unpretentious, impressionistic simplicity, "Mutum" is a gem of understated beauty and exhilarating grace, if only to give us a break from the exhausting, exhibitionist, empty hyperactivity of most of the contemporary film-making styles.