If you are the type of moviegoer who spends the first part of any even remotely complicated film whispering, “Wait, I’m confused. Who is that man? Have we met him yet? Am I supposed to know who that is?”—first of all, stop being that guy. Second, perhaps Kleber Mendonça Filho’s The Secret Agent is not for you. For a while, you have to simply luxuriate in the film’s vibes—which are considerable—before its many disparate elements come together.
It’s 1977 in Brazil, during the military dictatorship. The opening credits tell us this was “a time of great mischief.” This may be misleading. Yes, there is a spirit of bacchanal in the air—the film takes place during the week-long celebration of Carnival in Brazil, after all. People have a lot of sex, often in public, dance like nobody’s watching, and some wear elaborate, even spooky costumes. But death is everywhere—also in public, it’s fair to say (at one point a man is shot dead in a barber shop and they immediately light candles around his body as though it’s perfectly routine) and everyone seems to be either corrupt or corruptible.
The film starts with a spectacular set piece. Our hero, the electrical engineer Armando—played by Wagner Moura in a genuine star turn—has arrived at a desolate gas station along a dusty strip of road. As he pulls up in his jellybean-yellow VW Beetle, he sees a dead body decomposing under some cardboard. “Don’t mind him,” nonchalantly says the attendant, a sweaty man in an open shirt. You see, the man tried to steal some gas, was shot by another employee (who immediately fled), and now the attendant has been waiting for the police to come pick up the body. Armando fills up his tank and, lo and behold, the cops arrive. But they’re not here to collect the body, which they regard with only the barest curiosity. They’re here to shake down Armando for whatever he’s worth and are disappointed to discover that he has no violations in his car (a missing fire extinguisher is apparently an easy trap that he doesn’t fall into). He offers them a pack of cigarettes instead and drives away.
Armando is heading to an apartment complex for political refugees in the town of Recife, where he is greeted by one of the film’s most memorable and lovable characters, Dona Sebastiana (scene stealer Tania Maria), a 77-year-old chain smoker, probably 90 pounds soaking wet, and an absolute sparkplug. She brings Armando inside, introduces him around, points out the pretty tenant, a dentist she’s sure he’ll start sleeping with (she’s right), and generally hovers protectively. She’s the matriarch of this house of misfits—including a Somali couple escaping their country’s brutal regime and a young gay boy kicked out of his home—and presides over it with gruff charm.
Armando is in Recife for a reason. His wife has died—under murky circumstances but almost certainly killed by the dictatorship—and Recife is where his kindly in-laws are raising his young son, Dominic, until it’s safe to reclaim him. Dominic’s grandfather is a projectionist at the local theater where, at the moment, The Shining is playing. (On the marquee outside we also see a faded poster for Bob, Carol, Ted, & Alice.) And little Dominic, having seen the poster for Jaws, has become obsessed with sharks, spending his days drawing their massive teeth in his notepad. (Jaws was obviously a childhood favorite of Mendonça Filho’s, too, as sharks play a somewhat outsized role in his film.)
Did I mention the cast of characters is enormous? It’s hard to enumerate them all—but they include a corrupt police chief, an even more corrupt government efficiency expert (think DOGE), as well as hit men of all varieties. There is also the case of the “hairy leg” pulled from a shark, but justice for the shark, who was merely feasting on the remains of some poor victim of a hit. The hairy leg becomes an ongoing bit throughout the film—an urban legend, a surrealist joke, and a character unto itself.
The Secret Agent is a feast of sorts, overstuffed and beautiful, funny and sad. It’s about how life can go on in the midst of brutality—and how that kind of brutality brings out the best and the worst in people. Chill out, adjust to its rhythms, and you will be richly rewarded.