Carmo, Hit the Road.
Wilson, Galen
Carmo, Hit the Road (2008)
Written and directed by Mirlo Pasta
Produced by A Contraluz Films
Distributed by First Run Features
http://www.firstrunfeatures.com/
99 minutes
Within recent years interest in Border Studies has extended beyond
academia into the realm of popular culture. Such disparate films as Sin
Nombre (2009), Machete (2010), and Babel (2006) have used the
geographical setting of a border region in order to explore the ways in
which borders, both physical and metaphorical, establish and enforce
personal identity. The best of these films can help us to better
understand the limits placed upon individuals in how they are allowed to
define themselves; the borders here become potential zones of
transgression against restrictive social identities. Taking place along
Brazil's borders with Paraguay and Bolivia, Carmo, Hit the Road
appears interested in exploring the relationship between geopolitical
borders and identity, but shallow characterization and an extremely
uneven tone prevent the film from successfully carrying out this
exploration.
The film begins with Carmo (played by Mariana Loureiro) searching
for a way to escape her border town as well as the restrictions placed
upon her as a woman in society. Meanwhile her love interest, the
paraplegic smuggler Marco (played by Fele Martinez), is hauling cheap
electronics across the border into Brazil. After saving Carmo from an
assailant at a local bar and subsequently rebuffing her sexual advances,
the two are forced to team up in order to fence his merchandise. When
Carmo takes him to his designated rendezvous point, and is robbed of his
merchandise, the two begin a wild chase along the Brazilian border to
recover his goods so that they can both escape the border town. In some
ways the film's narrative provides a fascinating exploration of the
ways in which individuals can become marginalized, with the geopolitical
border regions of Brazil functioning as a zone of potential liberation.
Indeed, much of the film suggests that director Mirlo Pasta is
concerned with the ways in which individuals might escape the identities
forced upon them by the metaphorical borders established and enforced by
societal norms. Every character is given a label via text superimposed
on a stylized still-frame of the character, often during his or her
introductory scene. As one example, the text introducing Marco, defined
by his disability for much of the film, labels him as "Shot three
times by his ex-wife." In other words, the text reinforces the fact
that society reads Marco's disability as his primary identity.
Other characters are variously labeled as "Amateur Magician,"
"Chicken Thief," and "The Boss of it all." This
stylistic technique sets up an interesting means of exploring the ways
in which physical borders establish and interact with the societal
boundaries of how individuals are allowed to be defined. The film also
plays with the border setting through its use of language; the
characters speak in a mixture of Spanish, Portuguese, and a hybrid of
the two commonly referred to as Portunol. This blending of languages
helps to establish the ways in which borders and identities within the
film are transgressed by the characters.
Underdeveloped characters ultimately weaken what could have been a
fascinating study of geopolitical and identity-based borders. The
secondary characters never rise above one-dimensional stock types.
Amparo de Jesus (played by Seu Jorge) never becomes more than a
stereotypical (and deeply problematic) portrayal of the male homosexual
as a sex-obsessed threat to heteromasculinity; in one inexplicable scene
he even goes so far as to attempt to rape Marco. Amaparo's partner,
Diamantino dos Anjos (played by Marcio Garcia) is little more than a
caricature of a bumbling criminal. From their female crime boss (who may
also moonlight as Carmo's guardian angel) to Carmo's mother,
the secondary characters can be identified by one or two stock traits.
Both protagonists suffer from this same lack of depth. Loureiro
turns in a truly manic performance as Carmo, channeling all of the
eccentricity of a 1930's screwball comedy heroine but with none of
the charm. Indeed, much of the film's tonal inconsistency results
from her frenzied perspective. In many ways the camera can be understood
as showing the story through her chaotic point of view; extremely rapid
cutting between shots and extensive use of a shaky, handheld camera give
a sense of perpetual hyper motion which can best be understood as
viewing the world through the eyes of the high-strung female
protagonist. This hyperactivity pushes Carmo's character into
cliche and thus fails to earn the closing declaration of feminine
independence that Pasta wishes to grant her. Her character rings false
and thus so too does her final declaration of independence, which could
have otherwise served as a powerful closing statement to this border
study.
Martinez's turn as Marco is perhaps the most interesting
performance of the film, but poor writing holds him back. Marco is quiet
and caring towards Carmo one moment, inexplicably violent towards her
the next. At some points he emits stoic masculinity, a la Clark Gable in
It Happened One Night, at others he engages in cold brutality (in one
scene even committing murder). Pasta, who also serves as screenwriter,
seems uncertain of who Marco is. Is he a stoic rogue with a heart of
gold, or is he a cold-hearted criminal? While this uncertainty could be
read as complexity, the one-dimensionality of the rest of the characters
suggests a simple lack of tonal consistency.
This failure to clearly articulate the characters is problematic
for a film that is ostensibly concerned with empowering its characters
to create their own identity free from the borders of nationality and
gender. The final shot of the film, a still frame of Carmo's face
labeled "Woman, Human Being," suggests that Pasta believes
that by breaking free of the physical border region of Brazil his
protagonist has also escaped the metaphorical borders placed upon her as
a woman by her society; freed from these borders, she is allowed to
embrace her own identity as woman. Yet the film never earns this moment;
far from breaking free of the societal boundaries placed upon her, Carmo
is represented as little more than a wild woman who needs a man to tame
her. When the film reveals that she is pregnant it becomes clear that
Marcos is being positioned as the dominating hand needed to
"save" her. While she escapes the geographic confines of her
border town in southwestern Brazil, she becomes confined within the same
socially enforced borders of womanhood the film purports to resist:
submission to patriarchal authority and motherhood.
Galen Wilson
Texas A&M University