Cinegirl at Cannes: Interview with director Anita Rocha da Silveira

LAUREN DEVINE caught up with Brazilian director Anita Rocha da Silveira, whose second feature film Medusa premiered in this year’s Director’s Fortnight at the Cannes International Film Festival. 

Born and raised in Rio de Janeiro, Anita Rocha da Silveira (@anitarochadasilveira) wrote and directed three short films before embarking on her first feature film, Kill me Please, which screened at the Venice International Film Festival and SXSW, among others. Medusa, her sophomore feature, premiered to critical acclaim in the Director’s Fortnight program at this year’s Cannes International Film Festival.

In spite of the complications of travelling and organising a film premiere amidst a global pandemic, Silveira and her team were able to travel to the French Riviera to present the film in person. In the sweltering 80°F heat at the Plage de la Quinzaine, I asked Silveira about her cinematic influences, her experience shooting Medusa, and what it means to be one of the few female-directed films at Cannes in the midst of a global pandemic.

Wrapped up in highly stylized cinematography and incisive and compelling characters, Medusa certainly packs a political punch. Reflecting on ultra-conservative sentiments on the rise in Latin America and more globally, Rocha da Silveira delivers an unapologetically feminist indictment of the impact of heteronormative cultural expectations on young women: shining a light on the insidious cultural reality of contemporary Brazil and providing, in the film’s satirically charged climax, a cinematic catharsis sure to resonate with audiences the world over. 

Describing Medusa in her own words, Rocha da Silveira explains: 

Medusa is a horror-musical-comedy set in an alternate universe—but very close to reality—about a young woman growing up in an ultra-conservative environment, where she is expected to keep control of every aspect of her life. In order to keep control of herself, it is vital to control other women around her.

After being slashed on her face, and feeling threatened with the loss of one of her main attributes in this society—her beauty—she begins to distance herself from what is expected as standard feminine behavior. 

This experience, instead of turning her body into stone, will awaken new sensations and desires. And the desire to scream—and ultimately to confront the world with the rage that she has kept inside for many years—will be unbearable.

L: How does it feel to be here in Cannes with Medusa?

RDS: I was self-isolating in Brazil for so long this year, seeing very few people and doing the post-production of Medusa, which we were luckily able to shoot in November 2019. I thought I’d be nervous about the film’s reception here, but I’m not nervous at all - I’m just happy to be here to present the film in person, to go back to a movie theatre, to drink wine with friends. A month ago I thought I was going to be presenting by Skype, so I’m just happy to be here, and that other crew members were able to join me. It’s almost like a vacation before we go back to reality.

L: Is there one film in particular that moved you to want to become a filmmaker?

RDS: Not that made me think of working in film specifically, but cinema was always in my life. Growing up, my mom would take me to the movies and quietly read the subtitles to me in the theatre, and I was always at the video store. I rented a lot of VHS tapes. Once, when I was definitely too young for it—nine years old I think—I picked up Blue Velvet “by accident.” I couldn’t understand it at first, but I watched that Blue Velvet tape so much - it introduced me to David Lynch, whose films I love. 

L: What inspired the story you tell so compellingly in Medusa? Is it based on your own experiences, or drawn from society in Brazil as you see it more generally?

RDS: In 2015, I started to see news stories about girls getting together—ganging up—to beat other girls, because they regarded the other women, their victims, as promiscuous. What these stories all had in common was the attackers viewing the girls they beat up as promiscuous, judging them based on their social media and the kinds of photos they were posting. It was very important to them to make the other woman “ugly,” so they would cut the victim’s face and hair, which is what made me recall the Medusa myth. Medusa was a very beautiful priest. In some versions of the myth she was seduced by Poisedon, in others she was raped, and the loss of her virginity—her purity—caused Athena, the virgin goddess, to transform her into this horrible creature.

L: Medusa speaks to events occurring in contemporary Brazil, and you’ve touched on the disturbing social trends that inform the plot of the film. How do you hope that young audiences, whose lived experiences Medusa represents, will relate to the film?

RDS: I never set out with the intent to criticise any one religion specifically. There are some groups that use the bible to propagate messages of machismo, of homophobia, to propagate hate. It’s very specific groups that I’m talking about. For example, in Chile, some evangelical groups are very strong. In Latin America especially—and in the United States in a different way—I think a lot of people will relate to what I’m presenting about the rise of this ultra-right world. In Brazil the film probably won’t receive a wide release, because the movies in Brazil that get big releases are usually more like romantic comedies. So the church-going people of Brazil might never find out that this movie exists. But I hope the film can get as big an audience as possible, and for that, Cannes is amazing. I hope the film will sell to many different countries, go on to other film festivals, and be seen. I think a lot of people can relate - the ultra-right is everywhere. 

I wanted to make the film from a feminist point of view, and to explore the ultra-right phenomenon. One aspect of this is represented in the film through the boys [the Watchmen of Sion - the film’s evangelical/ paramilitary group]. They are bonded in such a way that they get everything they need—guidance, companionship—from each other. The girls exist only for marriage and procreation. This kind of mentality is also present in other ultra-right groups, this idea that women exist for sex only.

I try at the end of the film to give a pointed message about releasing this fury that women carry inside, because all women have something they’ve been holding for years, for generations. I wanted to deliver a positive feminist message - maybe this release is my version of a happy ending?

L: The film’s soundtrack, made up of sinister synths, fabulously garish religious pop hooks and punchy punk—I made a mental note when I heard Siouxsie and the Banshees near the top of the film—is utterly mesmerising, and contributes to Medusa’s genre-bending aesthetic. The film’s pervading pop-palette pivots from comedy, to social commentary, to mystery and back to evangelical musical at a dizzying yet captivating pace. The film’s most unnerving element, however, is that the story at the center of the film—of women-on-women violence in contemporary Brazil—reflects the country’s current troubled reality.

Let’s talk about genre - or rather Medusa’s genre-bending qualities, given that you describe it as a horror-comedy-musical.

RDS: When I was working on the script and applying for funding, it got rejected a lot because it has ‘too many genres.’ I really wanted to do a film that incorporates horror, but I don’t like the idea of attaching any one genre. I think it’s a little reductive to class the film as horror, just because it has those elements. It’s also funny, it’s also partly a musical, and this was part of what made it difficult to fund - nobody knew what to call it, they said it was too many things. But I’m not a horror director, that’s not what this film is.

There seems to be this thing about women doing horror films. Society likes to put us in a box: this ‘women that do horror’ genre box. Whereas male filmmakers, who do more horror than most of these female directors, aren’t reduced to the label of ‘horror’ director.  I love David Lynch - but what is the genre of Mulholland Drive? You know? I’m not suggesting that horror is a minor or lesser genre or anything like that, but there’s something about putting women in a box that says ‘that’s what she does.’ For me, horror is only one element - there’s the fantastic, there’s humour in Medusa, and there’s a musical aspect to it as well. That’s something that people criticised in the script, but I hope it’s worked out in the end to mix these genres.

When I wrote the first version of the script in 2015 it was a little dystopian, yes, but a lot has happened in Brazil since then. The representations of Church and the religious elements of the film, for example, are all rooted in research: everything the minister’s character says in Medusa is inspired by actual sermons. The parts that audiences are interpreting as dystopian are actually the closest to Brazilian reality. 

I’m not interested in portraying reality like it is. I wanted to make a film for people to see the world through a different perspective, with different colours. I’m interested in something that looks like reality but isn’t - with a hyperreality to it.

L: What was the most challenging aspect of filming?

RDS: We shot the film in 28 days. No one got sick, and it didn’t rain - our goddess Medusa protected us, and we had a very blessed shooting. But we had very little money, and it was difficult to secure funding. Before the beginning of 2018, we got one of the last cultural funding allocations before everything was stopped after the election. It was very difficult to get the money into our account, a part of which we are still waiting for today. It’s a very low-budget film - I don’t have the exact numbers but the total budget was below half a million dollars. But I definitely think the production value is there, and after the shoot we were able to bring some Brazilian companies on board to co-produce with us and to invest in the film, so we were able to bring Medusa here today.

L: Do you think the expansion of the ultra-right movement you explore in Medusa has been accelerated by social media?

RDS: Of course. But I think it’s helped to spread progressive politics and awareness about women’s rights too. For example, a girl from a rural neighbourhood, through Instagram, can access the feminist movement, the Black Lives Matter movement. I have a niece that lives in Lisbon - she says she’s a leftist and a feminist. I see who she follows on Instagram, and how she’s informing herself - so for this new generation especially, I think some positive change can come from the internet.

I also got a brief word from lead actress Mari Oliveira (@iammarianaoliveira) who plays Mariana, about what the most difficult and rewarding elements of filming Medusa were for her. 

 O: The hardest part was the physicality of the role, which was very difficult. Making ourselves look conservative was difficult - but believing the story was not hard. The political aspects we show in Medusa are Brazil's reality: people can relate to this, whether through themselves or through a friend or family member. The film is very real - if there's something hard about it, it's that it's so real. The film's message isn't hard to find or between the lines, it's right there on the surface. We're talking about it, we are explaining, and we hope it's the spark for more conversations about women's realities in Brazil.

Medusa is represented by Brussels-based sales company Best Friend Forever. A UK release for the film is yet to be announced.