O Som ao Redor

This film deals with Brazilian social relations from a historical perspective and innovative focus. The first images show the Big House and the slave quarters on a sugar cane mill where historians say is the origin of Brazilian society. From there the director leads the XXI century to show the consequences in the present time in relations between the descendants of slaves and landowners and the middle and lower classes in the twentieth century neighborhood in the city of Recife (northeast). It's amazing how the director gets not only translate into images different dimensions of social relations in the society but also establishes a link between the past and the present. Nexus that crosses the whole movie and that stressed by a kind of violence that is not present in images but is syncopated by its excellent soundtrack. I'm pretty sure to recommend this film because I believe it worked as a whole to show us an snapshot of the Brazilian society.

As for the naturality and the intimacy of the dialogues, one feels as if one is watching a reality show. One has the feeling of watching the private life of the characters. There is a sort of an insinuation of voyeurism, quite telling in the scene in which Bia (Maeve Jenkings, a constant actress in Kleber Mendonças' movies) get excited by the washing machine sound and movements. The whole neighborhood is portraited, with quite an intense amount of realism. There is almost every feasible character in such places: a doorman who sleeps on duty, a drug dealer, a drug addict, an arrogant grandson of a decadent landowner. The director advances, digress, cut the narrative path, regain terrain, give false hints, inserts characters who surprise a good behavior viewer, used to the common north-American paradigm of begin-tension-happy end. It might be a hard movie to understand if the viewer demands a conventional plot. Not everything is explained, although almost every scene makes us think. However, it can be an easy movie if the central tension is understood at the beginning. Where is the main problem? The movie was shot in 2002 when the Brazilian problem of the militias was already into discussion Clodoaldo, a militiaman, and his brother, take care, they surprise the viewer. The 20 Brazilian reais they charge from every neighbor to protect them suggests some more profound thoughts. This is the mystery of this intriguing movie. Either you decipher or you will be devoured.

Being not only a Brazilian but a northeaster as well, I have to tell you that it is strange to see that so many people around the world actually enjoyed this film.

I though to be very concerned to those who would understand the language, the situations and the causes of all of this. Well, seems that I was wrong and the themes exposed here are bound to be more universal than I expected.

Every moment of Kleber Mendonças'Neighboring Sounds could be opened for discussion as subject of semiotics. The symbolism is so present and so meaningful that I was overwhelmed.

A truly masterpiece, that have to be seen with very opened eyes.

The people who find it dull (and there are quite a few judging from the IMDb reviews) really have dull minds.

While this movie plays like a slice of life drama in a neighborhood in Recife, every single scene is carefully and meaningfully put together to speak about the nature of social structures in Brazil which date back to plantation times.

These things may be more discernible in Northeastern states like Pernambuco where the plantations once flourished and formed the basis of the societal constructs and defined human relationships, but their residue still permeates the country as a whole, which, while trying to move beyond them, still remains mired in the same kind of stratifications.

The film opens with black and white pictures of a plantation and then segues into a drama in 3 acts, using a crisscrossing narrative that delves into the day to day lives of various people who live and work on same street. And through their interactions and involvements we are given a very clear picture of class system as microcosm.

This film is more than a simple slice of life. For those of you familiar with the films of Lucrecia Martel (Argentina), what seems to be disconnected and inconsequential is put together like a jigsaw puzzle that leads brilliantly to the films final scene, at which point the entire story crystallizes before our very eyes, and we realize how well it has been supported and enriched by all we have been shown.

Throughout the film, there are narrative constructs for use to take hold of: the chapter headings, certain scenes that foreshadow, and a soundtrack the underscores where we are headed, without ever being exactly clear what we should prepare for. And this is, to a large part, the filmmaker's genius.

Sounds punctuate the neighborhood in Kleber Filho's exhilarating Neighboring Sounds: a dog barks incessantly, street vendors blast their stereos, the noise of TVs reverberate through the streets, a vacuum cleaner rumbles, a washing machine vibrates, and a car sideswipes another. Neighboring Sounds employs a wealth of cinematography and sound to chronicle the anxiety that permeates a middle-class street in Recife, Brazil's fifth largest city. Winner of the FIPRECI Prize at the Rotterdam Film Festival and four major awards at the Gramado Film Festival in Brazil, the film appears to be a typical crime drama but becomes a mix of the existential ennui of Antonioni and the paranoia of David Lynch.

Antonioni's own characterization of his 1960 masterpiece, L'Avventura, is a good fit for Filho's first feature, "Nothing," he said," appears as it should in a world where nothing is certain. The only thing certain is the existence of a secret violence that makes everything uncertain." Unlike many Brazilian films, this is not about favelas or drugs, but about the uneasy divide between a growing middle-class and their help living side-by-side in a crowded urban setting. Scenes are framed behind fences and grated doors to suggest maximum isolation, a suggestion that in today's Brazilian urban areas, a melting pot is built out of necessity, not of choice.

The film opens with a montage of black and white photos of workers in a sugarcane plantation peering into the camera with tools raised, and sweat accumulating on their faces from slaving in the fields in the heat of the day. The weary faces suddenly melt into the shot of a young girl on rollerblades in a parking lot surrounded by tall white-walled condos. Like Lucretia Martel's La Cienaga, Neighboring Sounds unfolds in a series of small incidents that convey an atmosphere of encroaching claustrophobia. Pointing to the local power structures that rule the streets, the block is run by the local "don," Francisco (W. J. Solha), a wealthy landlord with a questionable past. João (Gustavo Jahn), Francisco's grandson, is a real estate agent for the family who has established a promising relationship with Sofia (Irma Brown).

Accumulated incidents shape the film's message. João and Sofia are caught naked in their living room by the arriving housemaid Maria (Mauricéa Conceicão) who makes light of the incident, engaging in conversation with João and Sofia in the confining space of his kitchen. Bia (Maeve Jinkins), another nearby resident trying to raise two small children, is consumed by managing her domestic help, organizing English and Mandarin lessons for her young children, while drugging the neighbor's dog, amusing herself by smoking pot delivered to her by a drug-dealing water delivery man, and masturbating to the whir of the washing machine. Meanwhile, Sofia tells João that her CD player has been stolen from her car and asks for help to get it returned.

João immediately suspects his cousin Dinho (Yuri Holanda), a layabout who is used to getting what he wants and reacts aggressively when confronted. Sparked by the car theft and other recent incidents on the block, João hires a security patrol manned by Clodoaldo (Irandhir Santos) to oversee the neighborhood's safety. Though the residents of the block are relatively well off, they need more and more security but even then, do not feel safe in a country where there is a large disparity between rich and poor. The security patrol is ostensibly there to ensure the neighbor's safety, but accomplishes the very opposite when their true motives are revealed. As the accumulation of tension explodes in an illuminating burst of sound, the world ends not with a whimper but with a bang.