In a near future Brazil, a woman who is employed to dissuade couples from
divorcing grapples with her own marriage problems.
Review by
Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Gabriel Mascaro
Starring: Dira Paes, Julio Machado, Teca Pereira
The shimmering thrills of Divine Love’s (director/writer: Gabriel Mascaro, with
Rachel Daisy Ellis, Esdras Bezerra, Lucas Paraizo and
Marcelo Gomes) opening credits, with its neon colours and pulsing
soundtrack, situate the audience for a contemporary narrative based within
a nocturnal, pensive world of sexual relations and meticulous social
order. As we cut to the opening sequence of a huge disco set in the year
2027 - lasers, dry ice, umpteen beautiful young revellers having it large
(your socially isolated heart will soar) - we are privy to this world’s
futuristic decadence. And then, as we hone in on its central character -
Joana, played by Dira Paes in an empathetic performance - we see
the seemingly incongruous regulations which otherwise define this
science-fiction Brazil.
Framed within visually striking sequences of infinite shelves filled with
box files, Joana is a bureaucrat whose day job consists of convincing (the
urgent verb is operative: she is no therapist) unhappily married couples
to stick it out. Joana is a full-on marriage evangelist, whose seemingly
solid matrimonial union is marred by the absence of children. Fortunately,
help is at hand with the church of Divine Love, a culty Christian group
who when they aren’t reciting the beautiful love poetry of Corinthians
they are having group sex; structured bacchanals where partners are
swapped back and forth within the fluorescent chiaroscuro of pillowy back
rooms.
Sounds absolutely brilliant, to be fair. Problem is that it isn’t
brilliant at all. The society of this just-around-the-corner Brazil is
fastidiously heteronormative, and sex is not a pursuit of pleasure, but a
purely functional activity practiced for procreation purposes. The shag
happy church, and, concurrently, the society at large is disposed in
favour of the man: in the sex scenes (which, I have to say, look pretty
real) male participants take control, and public buildings are equipped
with scanners which announce whether a passing woman is pregnant or not.
We are in the hyperbolic realms of fable and allegory here.
Research informs me that the recently incumbent Brazilian president Jair
Bolsonaro is ‘known for his strong support of national conservatism’ and
is a ‘vocal opponent of same-sex marriage and homosexuality, abortion,
affirmative action, drug liberalisation and secularism’. Sounds like a
real blowhard, and within this social context we can see how Mascaro’s
film is a heightened projection of how this sort of unregulated
conservatism may play out, realising the liberal fears which naturally
surround such a repressive regime (although, judging by Bolsonaro’s
sluggish reaction to Covid you wonder if there will be a Brazil left,
amirite?).
That said, there is nothing hysterical in Divine Love, which tempers its polemic with witty touches of dark comedy: Danilo (Julio Machado) is a florist, and is often gloriously depicted without his shirt on, a
clear sop to the homosexual male gaze. And although an understanding of
where the film is coming from gives Divine Love its urgency,
along with its ideological stimulus, there are still cinematic pleasures
to be had in the slow tempo storytelling and luxurious cinematography of
Diego Garcia, who creates a sybaritic spectacle of the film’s
colourful, quasi-futuristic interiors.
Angry irony is duly employed in the final act wherein the loyal and devout
Joana discovers she is in the family way, but, somehow, not via Danilo or
any of the other thrusting male members of the church. I mean, the only
answer could be the Divine Love which this society is based upon, surely?
Shame then that when it comes down to it, Joana is ostracised for
perceived infidelity and faces a life alone for fulfilling the tenements
of her off-beat society and an administration which uses religion in the
same way that a parent may use a Victorian fairy tale to sway their
child’s understanding of the world: a loaded narrative which denies the
complexity of human relations and offers empty expectations. Mascaro’s
fable is not so didactic as all that, however, and instead translates
contemporary concerns into a visually gorgeous point of view.
Divine Love is in US cinemas and
virtual cinemas from November 13th. A UK/ROI release has yet to be
announced.
