A new crop Of Brazilian music documentaries rocked the LABRFF 2010. Brazil’s new generation of filmmakers is coming on strong. This group of memorable documentaries fills in the story of Brazil’s popular music for International audiences.
Directors Raphael Alvarez and Tatiana Issa’s “DZI Croquettes” is an arresting portrait of a performance group that ‘acted up’ in the face of the brutal Military dictatorship that ruled Brazil for decades. This outrageous gender bending, love-generation troupe of transvestites created an international cult following and, more importantly, spoke to individual freedom at a time when civil liberties were suspended in their country.
Interviews with a Who’s Who of Brazilian producers and entertainers testifies to the groundbreaking effect these glam, ironic boys had on the arts in Brazil. Exhilarating performance footage plays over newsreel footage of the military coup, which deposed President Joao Goulart in 1964. The frightening images, and the audacious queens onstage, bring to mind the musical “Cabaret” set on the eve of the Third Reich.
Actresses Norma Bengell (“Mafioso”) and Marília Pêra (“Pixote”), Iconic pop performer Ney Matogrosso and singer-songwriter Gilberto Gil (who served as Minister of Culture during Lula da Silva’s presidency), all describe the cultural importance of the gender-bending satirists during those dark days.
“During A1-5 Brazilians had no rights, everything was forbidden” explains Marilla Pera. “Everything was said between the lines, as subtext” explains Norma Bengell. (500 Film, 450 plays 100 songs were censored under the AI-5.) Journalist-producer Nelson Motta describes how the provisional coup hardened into a brutal form of state terrorism that lasted until 1978. Ruling through AI’s (institutional acts), they closed Congress and took total charge of the country. The notorious AI-5 rescinded all personal freedoms. People were exiled. The less fortunate disappeared into torture centers. “Those who disagreed were repressed or killed,” explains model Elke Maravilha, who lost her citizenship.
“You were arrested for making music, writing poetry” explains musician Cesar Camargo Mariano. “If you taught slum people to read you were considered a communist,” (at risk for exile, imprisonment or worse) explains actress Edir Duqui.
Dzi Croquettes emerged at the worst moment, when censors were discovering anti-Dictatorship messages in the lyrics of innocent pop tunes. The censors were fooled by the troupe’s weird appearance, missing the explosive political message hidden in plain sight under a rainbow cape of feathers and glitter.
Co-director Tatiana Issa’s father, Américo Issa, was the lighting and set designer for the group. Memories of her magical backstage life frame the documentary. Home movies show the wide-eyed eight year-old girl dazzled by the glamorous backstage transformations. ” I didn’t know exactly what they were” she narrates, “To me they were like clowns. They were all I knew, my reference, my example, my family.”
Rehearsal and concert footage of their German tour, and marvelous photos, mix with historical and contemporary interviews.
Theatre director Amir Hadda explains. “They were gorgeous men dressed as woman, beautiful, androgynous bodies. Nobody wanted to be a woman. It was revolutionary. Strong hairy men, they didn’t shave, their walk was strong. They danced like men, dressed like women with a dubious sexuality. It shook people’s sexual structure.”
“It was not a gay show” describes actor Jose Paulo Correa, “male, female, homosexual, they fully exercised their sexuality.” ‘It was a behavioral revolution.” explains Jose Possi Neto. “Men dressed as transvestites who didn’t behave as transvestites.”
San Francisco’s bearded Cockettes, from whom Dzi Croq’s took their name, put on funky shows. They felt like Elizabethan pirates, whose shows used the handmade stagecraft of The Little Rascals. Dzi Croquettes rivaled Broadway in their drilled panache.
Producer Luis Carlos Miele explains. “No one called them queer. No one had the guts to because they were so strong, talented, above mockery.”
In his broad New York accent, leader Lennie Dale preaches the gospel, while performers Goya and Wagner interject in Portuguese. ‘Were not ladies, not even gentleman, not even. Sorry people we are not men, you got the wrong show, we’re not men. If you’re looking for a girlie-girlie show, you got the wrong show. We’re not women either. You got that? We put it together. We become just one thing. One thing, people, just like you. You’re people too.”
The troupe of 13 performers were a family, living communally, first in Rio, then Sao Paulo. They paired off incestuously and fought like siblings. There were eleven ‘daughters’ and ‘aunties’ and a father and mother.
‘Mother’ Wagner Ribeiro de Souza came from a large family in Sao Paulo, and created another large family when he started the group. A Catholic, Wagner felt so guilty when he found out he was gay, he developed hysterical paralysis.
The group’s spiritual leader, Wagner wrote most of the comedy and many of the songs, including their two hits, “Crisi Darling” and “Vingativa?” later covered by Rita Lee and As Frenéticas (whose members weigh in.)
Anthropologist Regina Muller (a former ‘Tiete’-a groupie who dressed like a Croquette), describes Wagner as a prophet whose philosophy was “Love conquers all.” Flower-child Wagner greeted people at the door of the theatre, in a laurel wreath and a toga, preaching compassion. When Benedicto suggested it would take armed conflict to end the dictatorship, Wagner answered,” Child, instead of guns, why don’t we make art? It’s so much nicer?”
Improvising in his character’s high-pitched voice, he could control the audience in a variety of languages, all spoken with a strong accent. Footage shows a strong comic with an impressive connection to his audience.
“Boa Noite to the Brazilians, good evening to those who speak English,
Bonsoir for those who speak French or think they speak French, there’s a big difference, and love and peace to my beloved hippies, if there are any among you.”
‘Father” Lenny Dale, an American child-star and “bad-boy” of Broadway, brought Broadway Musical chops to Brazil. Choreographer Ron Lewis describes him as a “show-hopper” who was too good for the chorus.
Hired by Carlos Machado for a dance show in Rio, Lenny fell in love with the music and never left.
He was everywhere and knew everyone in the Copacabana stretch of bars known as “Beco das Garrafas,” (Bottle Alley, where angry neighbors threw bottles at the musicians) remembers songwriter Nelson Motta, who was 16 at the time. Innovative Lenny shook up the scene, bringing the performance tradition of Broadway to the laid back Bossa Nova and samba jazz scene, changing the emerging music scene. Lennie mastered the new music then taught it. He changed keys, pace, harmonies. “He taught us about lighting, audio, blackouts.” remembers Motta who owned the Dancing Days nightclub and launched the Frenéticas.
Lennie released a series of best-selling albums in Brazil. He was famous for his television duets with Elis Regina, who credits Lenny with her success. Liza Minnelli, who idolized him and remained friends with him for decades, learned steps from him. Lenny developed a Bossa Nova step (a sort of backwards samba step) “He was the Fred Astaire of that kind of dance,” explains Minnelli breaking into a dance step.
We watch a glorious pole dance. Bald, nearly naked Dale, glittering in body makeup, drops to his knees and rises to his toes in one sensual ecstatic movement. ” I’d never seen anyone dance like that. He seemed brave to me” says the enthusiastic Liza. “He was aware of every accent in the music. Few choreographers do that” adds Ron Lewis.
When Lenny Joined Wagner, he drilled the actor-dancers eight hours a day, turning out a company that could not be ignored. Luís Carlos Miele launched the group in his club. The sophisticated drag acts, drilled to a fare the well by martinet Lenny Dale, were revolutionary. Glorious bodies in g-strings and feathered capes, dancing with Broadway precision, inspired awe. Add the beards and comic bits and you have a game-changing stage androgyny that symbolized the glam era and celebrated personal freedom. Some say they helped bring down the Dictatorship. Their rebellious style of nonsense comedy influenced 80’s Brazilian TV comedy (TV Pirata.)
In his broad New York accent, leader Lennie Dale preaches the gospel, while Tovar and Wagner comically interject in Portuguese. ‘Were not ladies, not even gentleman, not even. Sorry people we are not men, you got the wrong show, we’re not men. If you’re looking for a girlie-girlie show, you got the wrong show. We’re not women either. You got that? We put it together we become just one thing. One thing, people, just like you. You’re people too.”
Claudio Gaya, another comic genius, coached the bits. Gaya and Claudio Tovar danced a show-stopping romantic bolero. In another brilliant silent movie soft shoe, Tovar and Goya shuffle across the stage in tailcoats, black stockings, Keystone Cops mustaches and hats, twirling their canes.
Deadpan Keatonesque Roberto de Rodrigues (‘ Aunt Rose”) dated model Elke Maravilha. “Are you dating a gay man?” screeched her girlfriends. “What’s wrong with that?’ asks the rowdy Elke from her kitsch-laden apartment. “First it’s the mind, then the rest.”
Their devoted fans came night after night; married men with kids, shrinks, grannies, and the “Tietes” the rabid female followers who transformed themselves into more Croquettes. It was a “religion”. When they arrived in Rio, after year of shows in Sao Paulo, 1200 fans stormed the 800-seat theatre (Teato de Priai). That got the censors’ attention. Frightened Claudio Gaya (the only one with a suit) managed to convince the Colonel in charge of Censorship to keep the show open. “I went home alone and cried and cried.”
They went to Europe on their own money, without a manager, and went broke in Lisbon. Claudio Gaya went to Paris with the last of their money and convinced photographer Patrice Calmettes to pay their train tickets to Paris. Despite advertising, they were too much for the French press. They bombed. Godmother Liza showed up and dragged people to the show. Liza brought Catherine Deneuve, Valentino, Marisa Berenson. Rave reviews followed. From 1973 to 1975 they became the fad. Omar Sharif, Jeanne Moreau, Josephine Baker and Maurice Bejart became fans. “They played well with their bisexuality, seducing men and women with no problem. They weren’t transvestites, they were artists.” explains French photog Catherine Faux.
Over images of young Tatiana back stage, she narrates, “Dad put me to sleep at the theatre. I watched the show in the dark like a fantasy, a dream, that was my reality.”
There is very affecting footage of Lenny, sick with aids, rehearsing with Ciro in one of their comeback shows, and interview footage with the ailing dancer. Liza Minnelli’s idol “danced like he was in heaven.”
Dzi Croquettes paid the price of pioneers. Two died of aids, three were tragically murdered, but their vision, artistry and talent comes alive in this passionate documentary. LABRFF Best Documentary, 2010 (tied with “The Man Who Bottled Clouds.”)
“Simonal – No one knows how hard it was.”
Directors Claudio Manoel, Micael Langer and Calvito Leal blend a series of talking heads, brilliant television performances and archival material in their re-evaluation of Brazilian mega-star Wilson Simonal’s rise and tragic fall.
Son of a maid, Wilson Simonal rose from a slum life to become Brazil’s first international-style performer. His charismatic television show made him Brazil’s most popular performer in the 60’s, running neck to neck with Roberto Carlos.
An act of hubris and a racist media smear campaign sent him to jail as an informant of the Military Dictatorship. Peers, resentful of his enormous success, did nothing to clear his name. Facts bore out his innocence, but Simonal died a broken man, unable to erase the stigma that destroyed his career.
Restored archival footage of performances sparkle. Like ‘The Kid Stays In the Picture”, sequences of colorized photographs, digitally enhanced and animated in 3D collages, give a brilliant pop veneer to the film.
A cascade of pop graphics surround 50’s style TV sets, each tuned to a different performance by Wilson Simonal, “The King of Bossa Nova”. A narrator muses, “If you didn’t see Rio de Janiero in the 50’s and 60’s you don’t know what you’ve missed. If you didn’t see Garrincha (Brazilian soccer right winger) play, if you didn’t watch Simonal sing, you don’t know what you’ve missed. “
Barbara Heliodora (Simonal’s mother’s former employer) explains,” He was a poor black man with low self esteem. His mother wanted him in the army.” Early footage of him in the army shows his charisma at work, as he leads the troops in a marching cadence.
He made his mark in Rio at The Drink, working with upcoming Bossa Nova performers like Ed Lincoln, Silvio Cesar, pianist Djalama Ferreira and Miltinho. Producer Luís Carlos Miele hired him for a show at The Bottles Alley. Simonal put the club on the map. A flashy animated sequence locates the clubs of the day: Ma Griffe, Little Club, Bacar. Televised performances with Elis Regina swing. Famed sax and clarinetist Paulo Moura explains. “He already had something. People paid attention.”
Music critic-producer Nelson Motta describes the pop pioneer, “He was not a black sambista. He sang ballads, Rock and Roll, Calypso. His first hit was a cha cha cha. His guru was Carlos Imperial.” Imperial wrote many of Simonal’s early hits and his Malandrade (street-smart style) of lyrics served Simonal well.
Footage of the TV show “Show’ em Simonal” is a blast. The singer rides onstage on a motorcycle in leather and wolf’s ears. “I’m the big bad wolf”, he sings before joking around with an actress.
His show on TV Record beat out shows by established stars during the station’s golden age of musicals. He was famous for leading his TV audiences in sing-a-longs. Audience members of the popular show practiced (and even gargled) before attending. Footage of him in a tux and newsboy cap leading the audience in a version of Lemon Tree is enchanting. “Allegria, Allegria” he says to the smiling crowds in his sarcastic iconic greeting.
Strolling offstage while they sang, he’d have a cafezinho, then go back onstage to finish the song. “Look at those suckers singing My Lemon Tree, let me get back there.” Motta describes him as the first American style “entertainer”, a versatile singer-musician who could joke around with the crowd, like Sammy Davis Jr. (one of Simonal’s idols.) Singer-actor Tony Tornado explains, “The way he spoke made it swing even more (mas swingado).”
With Carlos Imperial he launched “Pilantragem” (rascal style), which Motta defines as Brazil’s first pop music. Watching Simonal bugaloo to the bubble gum hit “Mama Sprayed Sugar On Me” is a stitch. Tuxedoed singers lounge on the floor of the TV studio, approximating a casual American style, while Simonal hits his falsetto stride.
A star in South America through out the 60’s, Simonal and backup band SOM 3 played 340 concerts a year, including a weekly concert in Buenos Aires. He toured Europe. In amusing back and white footage of his lucrative Shell Oil TV commercials Simonal serenades passing motorists from a helicopter. A pioneer of product merchandizing, he launched Mug-his popular good luck toy.
In an extended concert sequence, we watch Simonal and Sarah Vaughn croon the “Shadow Of Your Smile”. He masters her silken style, singing (phonetically learned English lyrics) as the dazzled Jazz Diva weaves her magic around his couplets.
Simonal was “the man”, living large, driving big cars, dating foxy blondes. But money and success doesn’t make racism disappear. Many of the white establishment resented the “uppity” negro. “From The Army To the King Of Bossa Nova A Black Man Becomes Famous” states one incredulous newspaper headline.
Footage shows his televised attack on racism. It’s Simonal’s version of a minstrel show. ” Ladies and gentleman, coming from who knows where, and for whatever reason, a black man!” Simonal dances onstage like a wind up Charlie Chaplin. The backup dancers recoil, only warming up when the Uncle Tom black man plays the piano. Later pelted with pies, the cowering clown begins his sarcastic song. “My hair is kinky, my nose is flat. Between us is a wall. We’re like cat and mouse. My skin is dark, my life, a lot darker. On his knees, he cracks a bitter, barking laugh. “Haha haha hah! I am a black, a negro, a nigger. But by God, I’m also human. Ha Ha Hah.” then asks the audience. “Is it really true or just a joke?” It’s a dramatic tour de force. Motta explains, “He learned about Black Power from hearsay. He used it well.”
He lept to superstar status during Rio’s first International Song Contest. His mid-show guest performance galvanized the Maracanã Stadium. Leading the vast audience in a sing-along of Rio’s official song “Cidade Maravilhosa” (Andre Filho’s 1934 Carnival hit). “Who Can Resist Simonal?” asked headlines describing his improvised choir of 30,000 voices.
His next show put him through the roof. Grammy winner Sergio Mendes invited him to open his celebration concert at Maracanã stadium (the world’s largest stadium). As on his show, Simonal conducted the crowd singing “Lemon Tree.” Mendes was afraid to follow him. He was actually booed. Miele describes his televised epiphany, ” It was really funny when he said, ‘Now, just the 1500 on this side’.” Accounts vary but he was reputed to have led an impromptu choir of between 30,000 to 50,000 frenzied fans. This was in the days before stadium concerts, the days of club concerts. It was earthshaking.
He was pals with Pele who described him, “He wasn’t beautiful. He was charming with a great physique. Every singer wants to be a player. Every player wants to be a singer.” Hilarious home movies show Pele trying to sing for the team.
Simonal accompanied the national Soccer Team to their third, winning World Cup match in Mexico City, as the official singer. The team played a huge prank. They gave Simonal a team shirt and fed him the ball at practice session, until he was convinced he would replace soon to be drafted goalie Rogerio on the team.
Liberals suggested the team was working for the Military Dictatorship, who used the World Cup success to deflect attention from their violent political crimes at home. In those harrowing times, anyone who didn’t protest the Military Government was seen as a supporter. Simonal’s enormous hit with Jorge Ben’s “Pais Tropical” was blasted as ‘patriotic’, supporting the brutal dictatorship. Psychedelic animation celebrates the cheerful Brazil-boosting hit, which swinging Simonal sings in slang, using just the first syllables of words.
Discovering he’d been embezzled, Simonal fired his latest accountant Raphael Viviani. (Viviani claims that Simonal, who paid no attention to his finances, simply kept spending after his Shell contract was cancelled.)
When Viviani sued, Simonal called in some friends in the police to make him confess. Viviani wound up at the torture center of DOPS where he survived brutal treatment. Naive Simonal, hauled before the police, claimed friends in high places. False witness put him behind bars for years. The liberal press, afraid to blast the oppressive dictatorship, convicted Simonal.
It was a complex time. Intellectually correct exiled stars like Gilberto Gil and Caetano Velosa were lionized. A cocky, populist singer was pilloried for saying the wrong thing in the wrong place. Happily Manoel, Langer and Leal restore his place in the pantheon of Música Popular Brasileira (MPB.) It is notable that none of the politically engagée artists of the day came forward to be interviewed for the film, suggesting that not everyone is willing to forgive and forget.
Nonetheless, what we’re left with is the magnificence, the razzle of Wilson Simonal in his prime. As his sons Max de Castro and Simoninha, successful musicians in their own right, said, ” Let’s not be bitter. Let’s remember the happiness he brought us.”
“The Man Who Bottles Clouds” (O Homen que Engarrafava Nuvens)-
Before the success of Bossa Nova and Tropicalia, there was baião, a rhythm from the impoverished northeast of Brazil. The songwriter-composer responsible for the baião craze, Humberto Teixeira (“The Doctor o Baião”), is portrayed in a lively documentary by Lirio Ferreira and Teixeira’s daughter, actress-producer Denise Dumont.
“The Man Who Bottled Clouds” uses brilliant archival material, period interviews with Teixeira and others, contemporary concert footage with some of Brazil’s musical luminaries and witty digitally animated and collaged images to introduce Teixeira’s musical legacy to the world. The title sequence features wonderful folkloric flat animation, as Teixeira’s iconic “Asa Branca” plays. Fascinating period footage of Brazil from the early to mid twentieth century (including Technicolor Rio of the 40’s and 50’s) is worth the price of admission.
Using sound from an old Television interview, Teixiera tells his story, describing the drought years in his beloved home of Igauatu in Ceara. “I was raised on baião”, the music of his land, explains Teixeira, describing how his father brought a mouth organ with a keyboards from Fortaleza on a horse -drawn cart. Teixeira wanted a piano. As a music student in Fortaleza, he played flute for silent movies at the Majestic Cinema.
Teixeira describes Rio in the forties, where the one-time law student tried to sell his songs. “Carmen Miranda … wouldn’t give me the time of day.” After his first recording of “Coffee Symphony”, he partnered with Lauro Maia who developed the “swing” broken rhythm urban-style “balanceio” from rural baião. Balanceio opened the door for baião. 40’s Rio carnival footage shows crowds celebrating their first samba hit, Ciro Monteiro’s version of “Deus me perdao” (God Forgive me).”At first it was rigid, square. Later we discovered that we could let the rhythm loose, let our lyricism flow”, explains Teixeira.
Maia sent Luis Gonzaga to Teixeira’s office. In their first meeting they wrote “Baiao”, the first recorded version of the Northeastern music on which the two grew up. “Humberto was the gunpowder Gonzaga was the cannon.” Intellectual Teixeira and working class Gonzaga urbanized the earthy rhythm and gave it a national feel. It was the first recorded Pop music success of Brazil, at a time when rural Brazilians migrated to the big cities to participate in the massive post-war industrialization. Most of the workers, from the Northeast, longed for sounds of home. The pair captured the rural saudade in their string of recorded baião hits. A jazzy black and white sequence shows Carmelia Alves emerging from a pineapple to sing,” Are you samba? no, no, no. Are you xote? no, no, no. Frevo ? no, no, no. Balanceio? No again…my name is baião.” The hit spread worldwide. Italian screen siren Silvana Mangano performed El Baião ( El Bayan de Anna) in the film “Anna” (although the filmmakers credit the film as “Mambo”.)
Ferreira structures the musically and personality-rich journey around Dummont’s unfinished family business. Teixeira’s remarks, presumably from a vintage radio or television interview, bring the complex artist alive. The film starts at a cemetery and ends with an impressionistic collage of family images, narrated by Dummont. In between we are treated to an assembly of concert and impromptu musical performances and some memorable footage of Brazil from the early 20th century to the 60’s.
Footage of the private Clube Da Chave, where social Teixeria organized the fun, is remembered fondly by producer Daniel Filho. Younger would-be players were invited by members, but expected to bring a pair of lovelies. “Nobody brought their own women. We had to get other people’s women. That was the fun of it, sabe?”
Teixeira married green-eyed Margarida Jatobe, a one time piano prodigy who under the stage name of Margot Bittencourt, acted in a string of 50’s films. (“Luzes nas Sombras” and “O Comprador de Fazendas” were her most important roles.
Dummont, who grew up living with her father, remembered her mother as an angel who disappeared one day. Dummont eventually followed her mother to New York. ‘What brought you together, asks Dummont trying to understand her father. “He was brilliant, intelligent, very charming… the first guy that didn’t try to take me to bed on the first night.”
The glamorous couple toured Europe. Once back, Teixeira was persuaded to run for congress. His whistle stop campaign tour includes Gonzaga, who’d sing and make a speech. Deputy Teixeira, a member of the conservative party, was a union leader who fought for artists’ rights, took on the biggest media companies and broadcasters and authored Brazil’s musical copy write laws.
Jatobe, who gave up her film-acting career, languished. Falling in love with TV personality Luiz Zatba, she left her husband. As Dummont heard it from her father, who reportedly built Mandalai (his ocean front dream house) to lure her mother back, “He was destroyed forever by one more woman with green eyes.” Jatobe couldn’t fight the powerful lawyer Teixeria, who kept custody of their daughter.
When under-age Dummont began acting, her father had a court official remove her from the theatre, and later forbade Dummont from using his last name. A story about father and daughter’s final meeting gives poetic closure to a film with both wide ranging cultural and intensely personal resonance.
Interviews with practitioners of folkloric roots music merge with concert and studio versions of Teixeira’s music. Mestre Aldeni, a 73-year-old retired sugar mill worker, leads his troupe of dancing warriors through steps of a Reizado, or colonial folk play. We meet Assis Vaquero, whose ruddy face matches his prized leather outfit. He represents the itinerant cowboys who remain loyal to ranch owners who’ll pay for their legendary leather gear, the symbol of the brave cowboys of the Backlands, ready to fight off jaguars, catch wild bulls, “even the devil”.
An old man in a local market recites an example of Northeastern oral poetry, made famous by Patativa Do Assare, whose characteristic love quatrains spread all over Brazil, along with baião. (Luiz Gonzaga recorded one of Patativa’s poems, Triste Partidain in 1964.)
We’re treated to three distinct versions of Teixeira’s “Asa Branca”, Teixeira’s tribute to his beloved hardscrabble northeast that became Brazil’s unofficial anthem. “When we first recorded it”, remembers Gonzaga, “people thought it was church music.” David Byrne performs an English version with Forro In The Dark at a record launch at Joe’s Pub. A baby faced Caetano Velosa performs his vintage slowed down version, complete with the nasal ruminating noises he picked up from a traditional musician, and his sister, Maria Bethania, performs a version that sends shivers down you spine (as only she can.) Gilberto Gil, Chico Buarque, Wagner Tiso, Lenine, the late Sivuca, Gal Costa, Bebel Gilberto, and Miho Hatari perform and discuss the Doctor’s contributions. LABRFF Best Documentary, 2010 (tied with “DZI Croquettes.”)
The Third Annual Los Angeles Brazilian Film Festival Awards were:
Best American Short made by a Brazilian Director or Producer –“Deserted”
Best Special Project – “I Love John”
Best Short – “Eulália”
Best Documentary – tie with “The Man Who Bottle Clouds” (O Homem que Engarrafava Nuvens) and “DZI Croquettes”
Best Screenplay – Eduardo Valente and Felipe Bragança from “Eye of the Storm” (No Meu Lugar)
Best Cinematography – Nonato Estrela from “Love Stories Last Only 90 Minutes” (Histórias de Amor Duram Apenas 90 Minutos)
Best supporting Actor – Luiz Miranda from “Jean Charles “
Best supporting Actress – Denise Weinberg from “Time of Fear” (Salve Geral)
Best lead Actor – Chico Diaz from “Saens Pena Square” (Praca Saens Peña)
Best lead Actress – Andréa Beltrão from “Time of Fear” (Salve Geral)
Best Director – Henrique Goldman from “Jean Charles”
Best Film – “Cabeça a Prêmio”