Favela Rising

A documentary about a Brazilian band, Afroreggae, which was born as a reaction to the massacre of 21 people by police in retaliation for the murder of four policemen by a drugs gang in a Rio de Janeiro ghetto.

The musical project provides youngsters with an alternative to the life of crime and violence lived by so many as a means of survival. The film also tells the story of Anderson Sa, founder of the band, and if the band's success is miraculous then so too is his recovery from paralysis resulting from a surfing accident. His personal triumph over despair neatly symbolises the Favela band's success against the odds.

An inspirational film.

Favela Rising is a documentary about the slums of Rio, the favelas, specifically the most violent one, Vigário Geral. According to this film, a lot more kids have died violently in Rio's favelas over the last decade or so than in Israel/Palestine during the same period -- a fact astonishing if true, which shows how under-recognized this social problem is in the rest of the world. This is an important topic, especially for those who see hope in grassroots efforts to marshal the neediest and most at risk through a vibrant cultural program. This is a compelling documentary, if occasionally marred by a somewhat too personality-based version of events and by grainy digital video and film that sometimes may make you think you need to have your eyes examined.

Drug lords rule in the favelas and gun-toting teenage boys are the main drug dealers, like in parts of Colombia. Fernando Meirelles' movie City of God/Cidade de Deus has been accused of celebrating violence (Cidade de Deus is another of Rio's many favelas). But the early section of Favela Rising shows that in fact favela boys do celebrate violence and want to deal drugs where the money and the action are. It's cool to carry a gun there, cool to work as a drug trafficker: it's fifty times more profitable than the earnings available by other means.

Mochary first discovered the AfroReggae movement and its leaders Anderson Sá and José Junior while visiting Rio for a conference and quickly persuaded his friend and mentor Zimbalist to quit his job and come down to help make a film with his own promise to fund it. Sá's eloquence and charisma and a startling twist in his life make him the center of the film and its chief narrator, but like the favelas themselves the film teems with other people. No doubt about the fact that Sá is a remarkable leader, organizer, and artist.

Vigário Geral is compared to Bosnia: shooting there was very dangerous. Anderson Sá's friendship and protection and caution and diplomacy in the shooting enabled the filmmakers to gain access and shoot detailed footage of their subject matters while (mostly: there were close calls) avoiding any serious confrontations with drug lords or drug-dealing cops. They also trained boys to use cameras and left them there on trips home. That resulted in 10% of the footage, including rare shots of violent incidents including police beatings. It's hard for an outsider to keep track of police massacres in Rio. There was one in the early 1990's that looms over the story and inspired Sá, who ended his own early involvement in drug trafficking to lead his cultural movement. The cops are all over the drug trade and if anybody doesn't like that the ill trained police paramilitaries come in (often wearing black ski masks) and shoot up a neighborhood, killing a lot of innocents.

This is pretty much the picture we get in Meirelles' City of God, except that this time Sá, Junior, and the other guys come in, starting in Vigário Geral but spreading out eventually to a number of other favelas to give percussion classes that attract dozens of youth -- girls as well as boys. Their AfroReggae (Grupo Cultural AfroReggae or GCAR) program, formed in 1993, is a new alternative way of life for young black men in the Rio ghettos. It leads them to leave behind smoking, alcohol, and drugs (that's the rule) to explode into rap, song, percussion, and gymnastics in expressive, galvanic performances. Eventually the best of the performers led by Sá wind up appearing before big local audiences with local producers, and their Banda AfroReggae has an international recording contract.

Other centers and groups have been created by or through the GCAR over the years in Vigário Geral and other favelas to seek the betterment of youth by providing training and staging performances of music, capoeira, theater, hiphop and dance at GCAR centers.

The performance arts aren't everything, just the focal point. GCAR is also a movement for broader social change Gathering public awareness through such performances, the centers also provide training in information (newspaper, radio, Internet, e-mail links), hygiene and sex education, to seek to bridge gaps between rich and poor, black and white, and to offer workshops in audio-visual work, including production of documentaries. The program is currently active in four other favelas.

There are many scenes of favela street and home life in Favela Rising and they look very much like the images in City of God with the important difference that the focus and outcome are very, very much more positive. Not that it isn't an uphill battle. And the corruption of the police, the inequities of the social system, and the indifference of the general population of Brazil are not directly addressed by any of this. But there's a scene where Sá talks to some young kids in another favela, cynical boys not enthusiastic about AfroReggae and determined to work in the drug trade as Sá himself did as a boy. Sá doesn't seem to be convincing any of them despite pointing out that traffickers don't make it to the age of fifty. But we learn that the most negative boy in this group, Richard Morales, joined the movement five months later. There's also the account of a freak accident that disabled Sá, but with a positive outcome.

It would be great if the images were sharper and clearer and if the story were edited down a little, but this is vibrant, inspiring material and represents committed, risk-taking documentary film-making and it's nice that Favela Rising has been included in seven film festivals and won a number of awards, including Best New Documentary Filmmaker at the Tribeca Film Festival. It's currently being shown at the Institute of Contemporary Arts (ICA) in London. However, a wide art house audience in the US seems somewhat unlikely.

Included in the SFIFF 2006.

Unlike the previous poster, I liked the celluloid treatment. It looked good, and made the movie that much more enjoyable to watch. To me, it didn't detract at all from the power of the documentary's content. In fact, I felt the slickness of the look allowed me to just lose myself that much more in the content. The previous poster was fair to liken the style to a Nike commercial; it definitely has that look. But for my tastes, it worked really well (and I am far from a fan of Nike commercials).

In my opinion, this is how documentary film-making should be done. I can't wait to see the next installments from these promising filmmakers.

I'd have little to add to bowlofsoul23's bull's-eye comment here. But as the first Brazilian (born, raised and living in Rio de Janeiro, in a neighborhood just a few miles away from the favela of Vigário Geral, depicted in the film) to comment on U.S.-financed "Favela Rising" here on IMDb, I get mixed feelings: on the one hand, it's good that the dire situation of Brazilian favelas are getting more attention from filmmakers and the media, both from Brazil and abroad, since local governments seem to have given up a long time ago. One the other hand, it's incredibly frustrating that "Favela Rising" turns out to be such a missed opportunity for enlightening Non-Brazilian audiences on the issue, because first-time directors Jeff Zimbalist and Matt Mochary (who are from the U.S. and, understandably, neophytes on the matter) turn the biography of AfroReggae group leader Anderson Sá into a glamorous canonization in this superficial, one-sided, under-researched and misleading documentary. Good intentions, muddled results. "Favela Rising" looks like a TV-ad, is shallow as a prime-time TV interview, and biased as a promotional video.

"Favela Rising" feels uncomfortably phony for a Brazilian viewer, and not only because of its hype visual treatment of a bleak reality, and its misplaced feel-good happy- ending. "City of God" is an obvious reference here, with COG actors Leandro Firmino and Jonathan Haagensen cameoing for no apparent reason other than "hype". "Favela Rising" is, allegedly, a documentary about the AfroReggae group and its leader Anderson Sá, but beware: when you see the scenes shot in favelas overlooking the beautiful Rio shore line, you might as well be warned that Vigário Geral (the home of AfroReggae and Anderson) is located in an area of Rio far away from ANY beach. Strange choice of location, to say the least.

"Favela Rising" is probably confusing for non-Brazilians, who won't know many of the interviewees (and the film won't tell them either) and will have to wait for the closing credits to find out that many of the songs on the soundtrack are NOT by the AfroReggae Band (though you'll get suspicious when you start to hear Pink Martini, of all people!). They won't know either that important issues were simply left unmentioned: why does the film push the notion that AfroReggae is a one-man project? Why not acknowledge the many partners who supply it with substantial financial and logistic support, like Rio's City Council, private Brazilian corporations, multinational recording companies and international NGOs, without which AfroReggae might not even subsist? Why not state clearly that Vigário Geral is still plagued by violent drug wars, and that its dwellers still live in constant fear of attacks by traffickers and cops? Why not state clearly that many of the archive footage clips showing police violence and corruption did NOT take place in Vigário Geral? HOW and WHY did the kid Richard Murilo finally join AfroReggae? WHY on freaking earth wasn't he interviewed once again at the end of the film?

As for Anderson himself, the film leaves a lot of loose ends for the viewer: what's the story about Anderson having "two" mothers? Is the baby he holds in his arms his son? Why is he inspired by Shiva? Is he a Buddhist? Why does a Candomblé woman appear on the beach when the films mentions Anderson's "miraculous" recovery from the accident? Is he a Candomblé follower? Why not let him explain the contradiction of starting a group that fights drugs and simultaneously praises Bob Marley? If AfroReggae is also a pride-building movement for black people from favelas, why are the girls in the AfroReggae band limited to booty-bouncing routines? No, you won't get any answers to these questions either.

Instead, the filmmakers are interested in turning Anderson Sá into a composite mix of pop-star, Malcolm X, Gandhi and Christ (check out that last image of the statue of Christ the Redeemer atop Corcovado hill, immediately after showing Anderson "miraculously" walking after his surgery). And that's the WORST thing the filmmakers could do to Anderson and his cause: turn him into a special CHOSEN one (by the time they show his surgery scar, you're ready to believe it's a mark from God).

Because what's remarkable about Anderson -- who's the most ordinary guy you could ever meet -- is that he helped change his environment NOT by being "special" but by copying and adapting winning projects (like the Olodum movement in Bahia, among others) to his own community, with strong support by friends, artists, intellectuals, politicians, businessmen and the media. If you're not fluent in Portuguese you probably won't notice that Anderson isn't particularly bright or articulate (unlike his sharply witty partner José Junior), as much as he isn't particularly talented as a singer, lyricist or musician. Yet his "ordinariness" might have been the film's true "inspirational" core: to show that ANYONE with idealism, perseverance and steady support can in fact contribute significantly to his or her community, no need to be Jesus incarnate. Because what really matters is the movement -- AfroReggae -- not the guy, see? Haven't we had enough of personality cult?

By the end of "Favela Rising", you probably won't know much more about Rio's favelas than you did when you walked in -- you'll just have SEEN what some of them look like.

Documentary content: Amazing man, amazing movement he started, amazing stories- most of them yet to be really told.

Celluloid treatment: Nike Ad. Sorry, ain't got nothing else to say about this but that you can say all you want about the dire circumstances in the favelas, but... if you attempt to support that claim with flashy and romanticized images and camera-work of that life, the humbleness necessary to show this life as an outsider filmmaker goes out the window. And with that goes the legitimacy of the narrative. Besides that, the time-space continuum in the film is all off, and I'm not necessarily against that in films as a tool, but here it serves only to confuse the viewer into wondering what was said when; thus leading me to the question: is this a documentary or a docudrama?

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