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BÉRGAMO 2024

Crítica: Until the Music Is Over

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- Cristiane Oliveira describe una comunidad de inmigrantes italianos católicos en el extremo sur de Brasil, en la que una mujer de avanzada edad se libera de sus prejuicios

Crítica: Until the Music Is Over
Cibele Tedesco en Until the Music Is Over

Este artículo está disponible en inglés.

In the far South of Brazil is a community of around half a million Italians who speak Talian, a language created from a blend of Portuguese mixed with the languages spoken by immigrants who arrived in large part from Veneto and Lombardy in the late 19th century. It is in that community, in the state of Rio Grande do Sul, that director and screenwriter Cristiane Oliveira set her film Until the Music Is Over, which is having its European premiere in Competition at the Bergamo Film Meeting.

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In her third feature film, the Brazilian director follows a couple married for over 50 years: Chiara and Alfredo (non-professional actors Cibele Tedesco and Hugo Lorensatti), she a housewife, he a supplier for small bars scattered across the hills, who worked for years as a grocery store manager among other jobs. The film begins when their younger son, Vancarlo (Jonas Piccoli), leaves to go live on his own. We soon discover that the eldest son of the couple, Marco, died in a car accident, and we can guess the mother’s pain over this loss from her sad blue eyes.  

Chiara, meanwhile, is convinced that something is wrong in her husband’s behaviour, that he must be hiding something, and she abandons her housework to accompany him in their old beat-up car on his travels to supply the local bars. She is shocked when she realises that he is selling decks of cards without issuing a proper receipt, and when, during a conversation, she discovers that Marco had sold the store due to irregularities in his father’s accounting. 

In the background of their relationship, there is Brazil. With a few narrative touches, Oliveira places the elderly couple within a community united by a strange and old dialect that circumscribes its cultural identity: this is an archaic community which runs on prejudice, profoundly catholic and essentially bigoted. More than once, we hear a news bulletin alluding to a scandal involving a corrupt parliamentary politician and his wife, also arrested for complicity. “Poor man, they are persecuting him,” Alfredo comments. The director suggests that the couple is among those millions of Brazilians who, during the 2018 presidential elections, voted for the Christian populist far right. This mentality makes the protagonist’s emancipatory journey more arduous. 

An occasion for liberation presents itself with the arrival of Luca (Nicolas Vaporidis), the neighbours’ young Italian guest. Luca is a buddhist, and Chiara, intrigued by this religion-philosophy that does not come with a sacred text nor with icons to adore such as the Madonna, discovers the notion of the transmigration of souls. Looking for an exit from a dull existence, one that has betrayed her and that has become too narrow for her, she sees the turtle that her husband gifted her a few days prior as the reincarnation of her son Marco. And so she talks to the turtle, while around her the director scatters hints of magical realism, supported by the rich and soft colour palette from cinematographer Julia Zakia. Like in the parable of Buddha that is quoted in the film, Chiara has found a way to get out of a burning house, perhaps regaining serenity and love.   

Until the Music Is Over is a co-production between Brazil, Germany and Italy by Okna Producoes, Crisol Filmes, Departures Film, Movimento Film, and Solaria Film. International sales are handled by Germany’s Patra Spanou.

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(Traducción del italiano)

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