Natalie D.C.
Globally, one in three women experience sexual violence. This statistic, while sobering by itself, is all the more devastating as depicted in Manas (2024), the narrative feature debut of Brazilian filmmaker Marianna Brennand who dedicated 10 years to researching cases of sexual abuse and exploitation against women and children in the Amazon rainforest.
This coming-of-age drama follows thirteen-year-old Marcielle (Jamilli Correa) whose life on Marajó Island in the heart of the Amazon rainforest is altered forever when she must do the unthinkable to save herself and her younger sister Carol (Emily Pantoja) from a dark cycle of abuse perpetuated by her patriarchal community. Manas had its world premiere at the 81st Venice International Film Festival and is set for its U.S. theatrical premiere from KimStim on May 22.
The film begins by introducing Marcielle—who goes by Tielle—and her big family, including her older and younger siblings, pregnant mother Danielle (Fátima Macedo), and father Marcílio (Rômulo Braga). Throughout, there is great emphasis put on Marcielle’s surroundings, namely the natural landscape of the Amazon rainforest.
Through warm cinematography, stunning sound design, and careful directorial decisions, Manas portrays the Amazon not only as Marcielle’s home, but also as an extension of her own body. From the playful sounds of splashing in the water with Carol to the ominous din of hunting in the jungle with Marcílio, the viewer is offered a small, yet authentic glimpse into Marcielle’s world.
This debut has many strengths that bind its 100 minutes of runtime together, most notably its protagonist. Newcomer Correa does a phenomenal job embodying this curious and kind thirteen-year-old girl who is forced to grow up too quickly in order to save herself and her loved ones from danger.
While its foundation is strong, Manas isn’t perfect. Ambitiously, the film is determined to explore numerous themes that make up the whole of Marcielle’s complex life, including sisterhood, femininity, poverty, religion, sex work, and so much more. While the decision to touch on these important topics is a noble one, it ends up bogging down the film, not allowing the story—or Marcielle—to breathe.
Time spent showcasing Marcielle’s dance rehearsals for her church or the dirty inner-workings of the “barge”—where young girls and women are taken advantage of for the slim chance of leaving the island—could’ve instead been spent further developing Marcielle’s relationship with her family, especially her unaware younger sister and apathetic mother, the latter sensitively portrayed by Macedo. Another interesting avenue that Manas could’ve explored is how Marcielle’s treatment differs from that of her brothers, members of her family all but ignored throughout the story whose inclusion could’ve added even more depth to Marcielle’s intricately-woven family dynamic.
The film initially leads the viewer to believe that Marcielle lives in a relatively progressive family, as her stoic father starts to include her in more stereotypically masculine activities, such as hunting. Unfortunately, the story slowly and painfully reveals Marcílio’s true, sinister intentions alongside standout performances from Braga and beloved Brazilian actress Dira Paes whose character, Aretha, offers Marcielle her first glimpse of hope in a community fueled by stigma, shame, and silence.
Despite its overly-ambitious narrative, Manas is as strong a debut as its protagonist whose heartbreaking story aligns with that of countless girls and women around the globe who are abused by the men they trust the most. Indeed, as producers Walter Salles, Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, as well as Sean Penn must have seen themselves, Manas is a vital, lovingly crafted film with a chilling third act that will leave every audience member haunted.
