When Silvia Cruz, who founded and runs the Brazilian distribution company Vitrine Filmes, began promoting a new local film titled Secret agent For models, I faced a lot of doubts. “They said, ‘Hey, Sylvia, are you sure you’re going to do this?'” Cruz recalls. The film may have starred one of the country’s biggest stars (Wagner Moura) and been praised by a veteran director (Kleber Mendonça Filho), but the non-linear narrative and 161-minute running time seemed to many like a recipe for commercial failure. Cruise believed in the film. But she knew that these theater owners were often right about what would attract an audience. “I had to prove that the audience was ready,” she says.
I did just that. With a budget estimated at about $5 million Secret agent It has sold more than 2.45 million tickets nationally — theatrical numbers are not reported by gross in Brazil, but if translated to standard U.S. ticket prices, that would equate to more than $40 million — and remained in the top five at the country’s box office through 16 weeks of release. It premiered at an award-winning launch event at the Cannes Film Festival before receiving four Academy Award nominations, becoming the second consecutive Brazilian film to be nominated for Best Picture and Best International Film. precedent in this regard, I’m still herelikewise emerged as a commercial phenomenon back home.
These films differ greatly in tone and style, but they urgently and poignantly revisit the height of Brazil’s military dictatorship during the 1970s — a crucial context, since both also emerged from a more recent repressive moment in Brazilian life, under Jair Bolsonaro from 2019 to 2022. “This film could not have been made during those four years,” said Walter Salles, the film’s director. I’m still hereHe told me last year. Control practices were strong and consistent. Then came the election of the progressive Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, who had served as president two decades earlier and worked to restore key cultural infrastructure. If Brazilian films’ prospects tended to be tied to their political moment, the industry is now in a state of rebuilding and transition. The flourishes provided by two seismically successful, fiercely independent dramas cannot be understated.
“The market for something we had built over 20 years was shut down in four years [years] “We are recovering,” says Rodrigo Teixeira, an Oscar-nominated Brazilian producer. I’m still here Which works all over the world. “But what we did in the first three years of this new government was amazing.”
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A vibrant film culture is, to some extent, intrinsic to Brazil. “It’s a constitutional right.” Secret agent says star moura. “The Brazilian Constitution stipulates that the government must provide culture to the people.” for him Secret agent Director Mendonça Filho adds to where things currently stand: “We are back in this place that we were never meant to leave: access to public funds for artistic expression and for the distribution of artworks made by Brazilian artists.”
Moura heard stories of cinema halls being set up in town squares throughout Brazilian cities, large and small, in the 1950s and 1960s. “Going to the movies was part of people’s daily lives,” he says. Adolfo Veloso, Oscar-nominated cinematographer Train dreams “Movies were a big part of my upbringing,” adds, who was born in São Paulo. He did not come from a family of artists, but around the age of 13, he was inspired to pursue filmmaking as a career after the massive success of Fernando Meirelles. City of God (2002), which received four Academy Award nominations. “Seeing Brazilians and people like me occupy spaces that I didn’t necessarily think was possible made me believe it was possible,” he says. Veloso had already experienced several waves of censorship, but those breakthroughs kept hope alive: “Governments intervened and stopped all funding and all incentives… It is amazing to see how Brazilian cinema has managed to survive despite all the obstacles.”
But on the business side, the volatility has taken its toll – no doubt exacerbated by global disruptions such as the rise of streaming services and the pandemic. “If you make a good film, a prestigious film, it will never be popular – and if you make a popular film, it will most likely be a comedy more like TV,” says Mendonça Filho. “I couldn’t understand how we ended up in this situation.”
Cruz says Brazilian cinema distribution has proven particularly challenging as many exhibitors have become increasingly focused on American films and broad comedies. “There’s this medium, the movie theater — they have to do it He believes “The problem with Brazilian cinema for years is that Brazilian cinema is like a genre – in Brazil, we have horror, we have action, we have Brazilian cinema,” Teixeira adds. Local movies have been treated as a niche niche — which has become a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy as fewer and fewer safe wide releases emerge.
This is where things are changing — and fast: Over the past two years, the share of Brazilian films at the Brazilian box office has been more than three times what it was in 2023. (“It’s still a long way from where we should be,” warns Mendonça Filho.) Secret agent and I’m still here These are not the only success stories, but they are the most obvious. For example, this year’s Oscar nominations were pushed Secret agent From No. 9 to No. 3 in Brazil in one week, not to mention the enthusiastic carnival celebrations for the film that took place across the country a few weeks later.
“This is something bigger than just box office,” Cruz says. That’s not to say box office isn’t a big factor: Sallis and Moura are major proponents of wide theatrical windows, and have steered clear of digital for their first several months on the big screen. “We’re seeing an incredibly old-fashioned theatrical success story,” says Mendonça Filho.
All of this, Mora noted, sparked backlash. “On the far right, man, they’re very effective in demonizing artists in Brazil,” he says. “If you go on social media, you’ll see a lot of YouTubers, whatever you call these people, saying that Kleber and I are part of this group of artists who are taking advantage of public funding to get money for ourselves, which is absolutely ridiculous. It really breaks my heart to see these narratives coming out. People are really buying into that.”
Then there’s the flip side: The passion coming out of Brazil has not only become the stuff of legend for Oscar campaign watchers here in the States, but a source of vital fuel for an artist like Moura, who hasn’t acted in a Brazilian film in more than a decade. Secret agent He came on his way. “Brazilians seeing themselves this way creates an identity, this creates self-esteem, this creates a sense of understanding what kind of people we are,” he says. “When I see Brazilians showing their pride, dressing like Doña Sebastiana in the film in pure Brazilian carnival style, I think it’s very beautiful. It makes me say: ‘Okay, screw it.’ “I will keep fighting for this.”
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Moura’s move away from acting in his native language can be attributed to many factors, from politics to his thriving career in the United States. As for the current time? “I want to work in Brazil at least once a year,” he says. In April, he will film a remake of Abbas Kiarostami’s film Cherry taste In Brazil, and is working on developing a new project with him Lower city Director Sergio Machado. “The thing I wish I had more access to is my makers,” Mora adds “For new movies.” “I know they’re there.”
Last month, Moura presented the Spirit Award for Best Cinematography to Veloso (and later hosted a reception for… Train dreams), and they’re both expressing excitement as they navigate awards season together. “It’s amazing to be with other Brazilians, and to receive an award from Wagner Moura himself, who is an idol, a hero, someone I admire so much – all these things are so surreal and amazing,” says Veloso.
These cornerstones of Brazilian film operate on a global scale – Teixeira estimates that more than two-thirds of his production work now takes place internationally, while Velosa has seen his career flourish far from home. But all express a shared enthusiasm for the possibilities available in Brazil, with a re-engaged audience and a growing group of filmmakers such as Pedro Freire and Karolina Markovic. “Now people look at Brazil differently: What is happening there? Who is the next Kleber? Who is the next Walter?” says Teixeira. “I think we have a new wave.”
The common fear is that another political shift will undo these rapid and significant gains. “We have to maintain our existence, we have to keep making good films, we have to produce everything,” he says. Secret agentOscar-nominated casting director Gabriel Dominguez. Teixeira was more blunt: “We depend on tax incentives. Don’t kill it.”
Of course, like the movies I’m still here and Secret agent They make money – proving to fickle theater owners that there is a real market for challenging and provocative arthouse films. Cruz sees this impact in action: “People are talking about Brazilian films and they want to see Brazilian films. They want to go pay for a ticket to see a Brazilian film! Investors are looking at all this. This will change a lot of things.” She even noticed that there were more trailers for Brazilian films now being shown in the same theaters.
“I hope that everything that’s happening now — with the international recognition — turns attention to Brazil in a way that brings more investment,” Veloso adds. “We can reduce a lot of the bias that exists within Brazil itself, to make people more aware of how important it is to produce culture and produce art – and how beneficial that is to the image of the country, and how much investment it can bring in every possible way.”
As for the photo part, Veloso knows firsthand how much impact visibility can have: “I hope what happened last year with I’m still hereAnd what happens this year with… Secret agent And many other Brazilian films, could be similar to how, one day, City of God “That was important to me as an inspiration,” he says. “And I thought: Well, if Brazilians and people like me occupy those spaces, maybe I can do it too.”
