Black Orpheus follows the developing love between the titles Orpheus and Eurydice; culminating in a climatic scene of jealousy, love and samba at the carnival parade. Although the acting wasn't amazing and the storyline lacks a distinct narrative this film clearly isn't concerned with these aspects so much as spinning a web of representations about Brazilian life and love. In the end, it was enjoyable to watch and the pace didn't drag like some other 'older' films.
There’s a moment early in Black Orpheus where the carnival erupts in such a flood of colour and movement that you almost forget you’re watching a Greek myth. Marcel Camus transplants Orpheus and Eurydice to Rio de Janeiro — Jobim and Bonfá’s music standing in for the lyre, the crowd for the underworld’s indifferent masses — and for long stretches the film feels less like narrative than exhilaration. Breno Mello and Marpessa Dawn are radiant together, their chemistry doing the work that weaker films would leave to dialogue.
This is not the film to come to for social realism, or for anything like a truthful depiction of Afro-Brazilian culture. It works as myth instead: heightened, stylised, and full of life. Camus’ handling of the carnival crowd is extraordinary, the crush of bodies at once liberating and menacing, beauty and danger sharing the same frame.
But Death is here too, literal and costumed, drifting through the revelry with quiet patience. Camus never lets the beauty feel permanent. What lingers afterwards is not just the joy, but the sadness underneath it.
This raw, spontaneous musical made a significant critical and cultural impact in 1959; it won the Academy Award for best foreign language picture and introduced the bossanova to a worldwide audience. It updates the Greek mythology of Orpheus and Eurydice to a favela in contemporary Rio de Janeiro.
Which caused a ruckus in Brazil as critics felt the ethnological approach trivialised the characters, who just want to sing and dance and be joyful. But hell, it’s a musical! That’s how people usually are! Though it certainly established an enduring impression of the country, with the samba rhythms and the carnival.
There is a cast of (mostly) amateur actors led by a footballer (Brent Mello) as Orpheus and the director’s wife (Marpessa Dawn) as Eurydice, and they are quite limited. The script is poor and the slim premise is mainly there to present a focus to the authenticity of the location.
Which is the slums; this isn’t really touristic. Gradually, the abundant documentary footage overwhelms the drama. This badly needs an edit. What survives is the vibrant colour palette, and the bossanova score by Antônio Carlos Jobim and Luiz Bonfá, which includes the gorgeous Manhã de Carnaval.