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| A scene from A Fuga da Mulher Gorila. |
Time in the mi(d)st
By Don Simpson
The original title of co-directors Felipe Bragança and Marina Meliande’s film -- The Escape, Anger, Dance, Ass, Mouth, The Calm, the Gorilla Woman's Life -- is as nonsensical and free-flowing as the film itself. The film essentially ends in the same figurative place it begins, in media res, like a surrealist fantasy in which time has no influence on the events on screen. In fact, the passage of time is only recognizable by the linear passing of the gorilla costume from one character to the next.
The film’s two protagonists, sisters Flora (Flora Dias) and Morena (Morena Catonni), embark upon a journey across Brazil in an old Volkswagen Kombi van with no destination. Other than the need to earn money in order to afford the bare necessities (gasoline, food) for their trip, Flora and Morena have shed all other earthly chains. They are free to do what they want to do, whenever they want to do it. There is no purpose or deadline for this road trip. As it turns out, A Fuga da Mulher Gorila is an anti-road movie, or at least an elaborate deconstruction of one.
Dirty toilets, gas stations, oil refineries, beaches, forests, bodies of water, the interior of the van, the circus tent -- Flora and Morena are never influenced or affected by these spaces, the settings have absolutely no bearing on the narrative and are completely replaceable; even the actor (Alberto Moura Jr) who they pick-up is inconsequential to their actions -- merely a rag doll for the sisters to keep for a short while. It is as if Flora and Morena are acting on a sound stage and the scenery is just a trick of the eye. Yet, simultaneously, the surrounding environment is the only aspect of A Fuga da Mulher Gorila that is grounded in reality. The gorilla motif is an even more direct comment on the illusions created by light and mirrors (and cinema). Like a Georges Méliès film, a woman transforms into a guerrilla in front of our very eyes. The guerrilla costume, sequined bikini and low-budget circus sideshow tent is how Flora and Morena earn their modest income.
The seemingly nonsensical lyrics of their stream-of-consciousness songs are the truest clues we can gather about Flora and Morena’s thoughts, but these oblique puzzles are nearly impossible to decipher. Sometimes the words appear to be signs announcing what will happen in the future while other times the words are meant to allow us to delve deeper into the present or the past. Even spoken words and phrases (such as "no, no, he has a gun") are toyed with and repeated ad nauseum in order to reveal how different intonations, inflections and vocal frequencies will change the meaning. It is the words -- spoken and sung -- which present Bragança and Meliande’s incredibly unique film in a squishy bubble-wrap of insanity.
