CC - Central do Brasil

Warning: This review may spoil major themes and character developments in Centro do Brasil.

I moved away from my parents more than seven years ago. Periodically, my father sends me letters about home, often with pictures of me as a child—school recitals, family gatherings, in the living room with my cat in my lap. Every time a letter arrives with the address of my childhood home on the front, an unidentifiable emotion swells within me. His scrawling handwriting looks urgent, but the folded pages are a kind of calm. I feel lucky to be on the receiving end of a letter. He sends them infrequently enough that I often forget he does it at all. I have never written one in return.

"My darling, my heart belongs to you—" is the first line of Central Station (1998). A woman is weeping on screen, followed by a succession of testimonies, letters that the protagonist, Dora, is set to transcribe for the illiterate station-goers who come to her stand. Dora is a god, a kind of Brazilian Hermes. She is responsible not only for transcribing the letters but also for ensuring they reach their recipients.

Dora plays this omniscient role well. Soon, the audience learns that she puts some letters into a ‘purgatory’ drawer when she believes they shouldn’t be sent. She is held accountable by her neighbour, Irene, who often mediates her morally ambiguous choices. Not only does it seem the letters never reach their destination, but the content transcribed may not be what the customer had intended at all. Irene chastises her particularly for refusing to send a letter from Josué and his mother, as she suspects the recipient, his father, is abusive.

In a turn of events, Dora and Josué embark on a journey across Brazil to find his father. Central Station is a beautiful portrait of the country, trading the fast-paced station bustle for the idyllic countryside as the protagonists traverse it. Parallels are littered throughout; letter writing becomes a blessing for Dora rather than a curse. Josué and Dora adopt each other's mannerisms and turns of phrase.

The unexpectedly ironic pair seem to exist on the same spectrum. Josué is the image of innocence, naivety, and youth, whereas Dora embodies cynicism and wisdom. However, rather than growing further apart, their dispositions draw closer together throughout the film. The character development for both is among the most masterfully articulated I’ve seen. Initially distant and guarded, Dora gradually allows herself to care for Josué and, in turn, be cared for by him. What first appears to be Josué’s childish bravado evolves into a genuine sense of responsibility as he dotes on her with the tenderness of a son toward his mother.

‘I long for everything.’

In its essence, this is a movie about longing. If you have never sent or received a letter, you may not know the relief of it arriving where it’s supposed to go. It’s like a train pulling into a station, a kind of coming home. Dora and Josué are the same. It is not just their uncanny similarities in their youth but also their desire to make a home out of one another. They both yearn for the same thing, as do all the customers that flock to Dora’s letter stand. As do we all, to find someone who worth writing to.

One of my favourite things to do after watching a movie is to hear what everyone else on Letterboxd has to say. I usually prefer in-depth reviews over witty quips; however, my favourite was:

‘how can gwyneth paltrow sleep by night knowing she has fernanda montenegro's oscar?’ @alan

Most of the reviews resonate with that message. I have no idea which movie Gwyneth Paltrow won an Oscar for, but all I can do is agree because in no universe was it more impactful than Fernanda Montenegro’s raw emotional performance in Central Station. I am not a big crier when it comes to movies, if ever. Even I could not have anticipated the downpour that came at the end of this film. It had me longing for home, the kind of home I can only read about and see in pictures.

Lumière will be screening this as part of their special series ‘Lumière Classics’ this month. If you have the chance, I highly recommend going. If my synopsis has failed to pique your interest, I hope you can be swayed by the promise of a visually stunning movie, along with a tender yet tragic soundtrack that paces it so artfully. It is truly a poignant and well-crafted film about our innate human desire for connection.