Written by Elena Soarez and directed by Andrucha Waddington, and beautifully photographed by Breno Silveira in impoverished, rural northern Brazil, Eu Tu Eles is an irritating and schematic comedy-drama that could be described as “Brecht Lite.” Its protagonist, pregnant Darlene, is jilted at the altar, doubly mocking the white of her wedding dress. Three years later, having left and returned to Bahia, she exudes a lack of progress except that now she has a son. She marries Osias, who is older, because his house offers a measure of security. Osias thus acquires a workhorse. Darlene has another son, but everyone, including us and Osias, suspects from his appearance that Osias is not the father; she falsely assures Osias the infant’s complexion will “lighten up.” When his cousin, Zezinho, moves in, Osias is not worried, musing, “He’s a man, but not that much of a man.” Darlene attempts running away with her boys, but Osias, first, confiscates the older son and gives him away and, next, forces Darlene, defeated, back. Darlene’s affair with Zezinho, who provides some measure of friendship and kindness, generates yet another son, this one light-skinned. Osias suppresses jealousy as best he can. One more fellow, this one young like Darlene, moves in upon Osias’s invitation, which Osias only extends to gall Zezinho and remind him whose house he is hanging up a hammock in. The new housemate is Ciro, who works with Darlene in the sugar cane fields; he provides her with a measure of passion—and with another son. Get the message? No one man can satisfy a woman’s many needs.
Osias officially registers all Darlene’s sons as his own. Since Darlene is his marital property, so are her children.
Patriarchy is dealt a limp wrist rather than a blow.
Like this:
Like Loading...
This entry was posted on November 8, 2008 at 9:09 am and is filed under Formal Capsule Film Comments. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.
ME YOU THEM (Andrucha Waddington, 2000)
Written by Elena Soarez and directed by Andrucha Waddington, and beautifully photographed by Breno Silveira in impoverished, rural northern Brazil, Eu Tu Eles is an irritating and schematic comedy-drama that could be described as “Brecht Lite.” Its protagonist, pregnant Darlene, is jilted at the altar, doubly mocking the white of her wedding dress. Three years later, having left and returned to Bahia, she exudes a lack of progress except that now she has a son. She marries Osias, who is older, because his house offers a measure of security. Osias thus acquires a workhorse. Darlene has another son, but everyone, including us and Osias, suspects from his appearance that Osias is not the father; she falsely assures Osias the infant’s complexion will “lighten up.” When his cousin, Zezinho, moves in, Osias is not worried, musing, “He’s a man, but not that much of a man.” Darlene attempts running away with her boys, but Osias, first, confiscates the older son and gives him away and, next, forces Darlene, defeated, back. Darlene’s affair with Zezinho, who provides some measure of friendship and kindness, generates yet another son, this one light-skinned. Osias suppresses jealousy as best he can. One more fellow, this one young like Darlene, moves in upon Osias’s invitation, which Osias only extends to gall Zezinho and remind him whose house he is hanging up a hammock in. The new housemate is Ciro, who works with Darlene in the sugar cane fields; he provides her with a measure of passion—and with another son. Get the message? No one man can satisfy a woman’s many needs.
Osias officially registers all Darlene’s sons as his own. Since Darlene is his marital property, so are her children.
Patriarchy is dealt a limp wrist rather than a blow.
Like this:
This entry was posted on November 8, 2008 at 9:09 am and is filed under Formal Capsule Film Comments. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.