Rated Saint George 6/10
SÃO JORGE should be lauded for its self-awareness of the history and social functions of race and class. In it the eponymous protagonist Jorge (Nuno Lopes), a retired boxer, struggles to financially assist the woman he loves and feed and clothe their mixed-race son (she is black and from Brazil, he is white and from Portugal). To do this he first returns to the sport, serving mostly as glorified punching bag, but the impact these fights have on son Nelson (David Semedo) leave an impression. In a touching sequence following one such bout, Nelson asks his bruised and bloodied father a simple question: why do humans eat other humans? Jorge asserts, perhaps too-confidently, that they don't.It turns out that what he will do for the remainder of the film is eat those words. The threat of Nelson's mother Susana (Mariana Nunes) leaving Portugal and leaving Jorge for the former colonial territory, itself made possible through slave labor, is deeply ironic--backwards, even--but it underscores just how drastically the economic malaise has affected those who comprise the underclass. This looming threat also serves as a kind of moral test for Jorge on his worth as a man. He and others in his predicament frequently find themselves emasculated by their economic disempowerment and in this way SÃO JORGE offers a peephole through which one can view how masculinity and power are forged through access to capital. Money talks, sure, but it frequently compels listening as well.To reclaim this masculinity, stolen from him by the financial crisis much like Susana's affections appear pilfered, Jorge reverts further to an archetypal masculine identity defined primarily by muscled biceps and taut sinews. In this new capacity he cuts a figure as a menacing debt collector with his earnings tied directly to the cash that he intimidates out of borrowers. Jorge has then willingly become an agent of the oppressive economic system that victimizes people for their lack of access to resources. Ultimately his desire to provide a home and comfort for Susana and Nelson catalyzes a more complete metamorphosis--he becomes less a person and more a hunting dog, dishing violence out at another's behest.The comparison of Jorge to a beast and a dog in particular is not accidental. In taking on the character of a servile animal Jorge is effectively enslaved (like his peers) to a certain economic order, chained to the politics and realities of resource scarcity. That he could go so far is neither surprising nor particularly compelling because what the film shows is that we are, each of us, animals, often prioritizing personal wants over social equity--we each desire our own pound of flesh as an analgesic. If the question Nelson poses is do humans eat other humans and Jorge's 'no' is truthful, then SÃO JORGE contends that none of us is human and that we are all beasts in human drag. We all are capable of great harm in ensuring that we and others we love are able to survive. In fact the one truism of the film may be that harm endures and is inescapable.SÃO JORGE tackles the soul-crushing realities of living under debt with refreshing frankness, but its slow pacing and singular focus on Jorge do get a bit stale and place hamper it in terms of complexity. (I was particularly hoping Nunes's Susana would play a larger role as she is the character most susceptible to the winds of change.) Nonetheless one strength of the film is in the texture of Marco Martins's characters, polished as they are by economic austerity and social neglect. Slipping into this world happens with relative ease, but the film is not without its fair share of bumps: stilted dialogue often makes husks of the on-screen performers, while and the long runtime might have conveyed a stronger sense of both purpose and intensity. SÃO JORGE certainly has good intentions and it is impressive that it was made at all, but it is a truly dispassionate film. This shouldn't be surprising.