Writer-director Anita Rocha Da Silveira returns to the teen thriller genre with her sophomore feature, Medusa, a stylish and energized drama tackling the rise of radical Christianity and conservatism in Brazil.
A group of young women known as the “Treasures” in their Evangelical congregation roam the streets at night wearing masks, beating up and forcibly converting other women they deem sinful. By day, the Treasures are the collective image of Christian female perfection as determined by the male gaze, having internalized misogynistic ideals of women’s looks and roles within the community. Their nightly violence is a form of control, a misdirected expression of suppressed fury. Mariana (Mari Oliveira) and Michele (Lara Tremouroux), initially the two pseudo-leaders of their group, endure painful experiences that ultimately lead them to discover their true selves and the freedom of living outside the church’s control.
Da Silveira presents a highly colourful, shifting palette against a soundtrack alternately featuring synthesizer beats and pop music (including some “Christian” modifications of popular songs for the Treasures’ Evangelical concerts). Da Silveira’s shifts in sound and colour reflect changes in mood and tone in this genre-bending film, in which bright and playful quickly give way to dark and tense, or hazy and surreal.
These shifts are also reflected in the characters themselves, both in a physical and internal manner. Mariana’s careful maintenance of her perfect hair and make-up crumbles as she experiences life away from the church, forges new relationships, acts on forbidden desires, and discovers the many layers within herself. As she questions her motivations and the church’s influence, and instead embraces new ways of thinking and living, she stops straightening her hair and opts for a make-up free face (much to the horror of the other Treasures), external signs of her inner transformation and rebellion.
Meanwhile, Michele’s carefully crafted external facade also collapses, albeit in a more abrupt and shocking way that reminds the audience to look beyond outward appearances to find the person within. Michele painfully wipes away years of pressure and manipulation, revealing the suffering underneath. She finds a confidante in Mariana and it emboldens her to defy the church.
Soon it becomes clear that all the Treasures are on the verge of a breakdown fuelled by church-induced fears and radical rhetoric. In a great final sequence, the women of the congregation finally let go in a surge of fury and relief, reclaiming their voices in the loudest way. It harkens back to the eponymous Medusa as famously depicted by Caravaggio, her mouth open in a wordless scream here interpreted by Da Silveira as an expression of sheer rage.
The film’s narrative and themes tie in very clearly with the story of Medusa. In mythology, Medusa’s loss of sexual “purity” angered Athena, who cursed Medusa in punishment. Similarly, the radicalized Christian Treasures seek to vilify “sinful” women and punish them. The idea of Medusa as a sinful woman whose face cannot be looked upon is further reflected in Mariana’s obsessive search to find an elusive woman whose face was set aflame as punishment for her sexual sins and has not seen since. Mariana goes into shock and faints upon seeing the woman’s face. While not subtle, Da Silveira’s decision to use the mythology of Medusa to tackle current issues around radical Christianity and conservatism in Brazil is an effective choice.
The truly unnerving part of the film is the realization that it was inspired by real events: Da Silveira crafted the narrative in response to observing the rise of right-wing violent religion and reading articles about groups of young women beating up other young women in Brazil. Da Silveira reclaims the mythological figure of Medusa, presenting her not as an evil, terrified woman deserving harsh punishment, but as a wrongfully treated woman whose frozen scream of rage defies her fate.
The film loses its rhythm occasionally and becomes narratively distracted. In particular, Mariana’s relationships with her colleagues at her new workplace never really develop, despite her sexual relationship with one colleague and the significant chunk of time the film spends at Mariana’s workplace. This leaves the viewer feeling somewhat emotionally detached. Nevertheless, the story is compelling and combats radical conservatism. The film’s stylized nature, its colourful palette and use of sound all provide a refreshing energy, while strong performances from Oliveira and Tremouroux elevate the film.
Medusa screened at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival in the contemporary world cinema section.
Score: A-