Caetano Gotardo | Merencória (Let the Storm) / 2017

emblems of melancholia

by Douglas Messerli

 

Caetano Gotardo (screenwriter and director) Merencória (Let the Storm) / 2017 [23 minutes]

 

Instead of being a narrative movie, Caetano Gotardo’s Let the Storm might be better thought of as a kind emblem of melancholia or the sadness of losing one’s lover.

 

    The movie begins on an apartment roof with the central figure of this short Brazilian film, Júlia (Andrea Marquee) lying flat on her back with a cigarette in hand. She is soon joined by her husband Manoel (Rogério Brito), who is worried about her smoking while laying down, afraid that the ashes will fall onto her body and burn her. She has already given in to his demands not to smoke in bed, but assures him she’s in no danger.

     As he sits beside her he reminds her of the time on this same roof early in their relationship when they were having a luncheon party, interrupted by a heavy downpour of rain. She began gathering up the dishes, but Manoel remained, soaking wet, telling her to let the storm clean the dishes, while the two made love.

    But in their empty conversations now, it becomes clear that something has come between them, that for reasons unknown their relationship is coming to a close. Manoel begins to tear up and softly cry, as Júlia finally must get ready for a rehearsal (we later discover she is a singer), which this time Manoel will not attend. As with almost everything else in this film, we don’t know what she is rehearsing for—although we later hear her sing the entire song, "A última estrofe" by Cândido das Neves, which inspired this short work. Presumably she is planning a performance or a recording.

     The song itself, with lines such as "Singer who so speaks to the moon / My story is just like yours / My love also ran away," is obviously about the subject at hand, lost love, beautifully sung in full by actress Marquee with an accordion accompaniment by Carlos (Bruno Rudolf), all managed by Renan (Jose Geraldo Jr.). Her song moves even the accordionist.

     When she finishes the song, we shift characters, now observing Carlos laying in his purple underpants on the floor of the studio. Renan announces that he is closing up, but Carlos refuses to budge. Renan finally attempts to pull him up, and when that doesn’t work, tries to wrestle him up as Carlos resists. Both men are winded and sit for a moment. Finally, Renan undresses and in the nude mounts Carlos as the two engage in a hot sexual encounter.

     It is obvious that they too have been in a relationship that is slipping out from under them, but at least they confirm their former love in sex. Perhaps the storm of sexual desire has washed away the refuse that has come between them?

     But in both these cases, we really know nothing at all about these couples, why their relationships have failed, or even at what intensity they lived out their relationships. They are symbols of individuals who are losing the moonlight which previously lit up their lives. They are emblems of the sadness that remains.

 

Los Angeles, December 12, 2024

Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (December 2024).