City of God

I still wish to go there. Rio de Janeiro, Brasil.

"City of God" is set in the public housing ghetto, City of God, of Rio. The irony of the title is evident from start to end of this film. Blood bath of feudal gang wars, spilling of innocent blood just to appease a young child's blood lust.

To most Singaporeans, this life seems a universe away; where being "hoodlum" was a profession; kids not only don't have 11pm curfew by law, but wield murderous guns; dead bodies lying on the streets. It was a stark reminder to me that this was no scene of a war; this was someone's WAY OF LIFE.

The film comes full circle, when the opening scene of an innocent chicken-chase of an escaping poultry is repeated close to the end. How apt that the movie calls it "The beginning of the end".

Despite the death of the biggest gangster, 'Lil Ze, at the end, I suspect the movie was highlighting the vicious cycle of violence and crime in the ghetto. With the fall of one bandit, will arise from its ashes a new reign of terror. How apt, therefore, the movie ending with a scene of a bunch of boys (I mean those around 7-12 yrs old) wielding guns that killed 'Lil Ze: the beginning of another end.

I thought the cinematography aptly captured all the emotions that the dialogue did not. In essence, of what that could not be justified in words was richly conveyed through the use of clever camera movement and manipulation.

It really left me with a sense of dread. That while I, we, are sitting cushy in our parents' diligence and prudence, while others a third of our age fend for their own survival, where even loving a pretty babe was a crime necessary of execution if the gangster had an inferiority complex.

True, it is an unfair comparison. We all are born into different lives and therefore adopt to varying circumstances accordingly. Yet, one cannot help but respect those who fought their way out of ghettos and earned themselves an education and a life they carved for themselves.

These men; in comparison to our friends who inherit Namly bungalows and own Porshes (only to stop every 50m at traffic lights) before 30.

Yet, in amidst all this violence, there is an eerie beauty about these people's situation, and the way they side-step these shitholes in their lot. Tragedy is an everyday affair, yet they live. I still wish to visit Brasil. Amen.

Uncle T