Tabu (2012)

Portugal, 2012
Directed by Miguel Gomes

Tabu is a postmodernist bifurcated narrative that functions as a silent cinema pastiche, a meditation on memory and the inevitability of death, and an ironic criticism of Portuguese colonialism in Mozambique.

…where are you going? Wait, come back!

OK, I understand that the synopsis of Tabu will be thoroughly off-putting to many. Descriptors like “postmodernist”, “silent cinema pastiche”, “inevitability of death” and “ironic criticism of colonialism” will have most normal people running for the hills. It does sound ostentatiously obscure, or drearily self-righteous. And no doubt, many who watch the film will feel affirmed in that assumption, but thankfully that was not my experience with Tabu. Certainly my enjoyment of the film has to do with my at least partially belonging to its very tiny target audience, as I am a fan of silent films. But my admiration for Tabu goes beyond that. This is the best kind of postmodern storytelling. Its unusual aesthetics and self-reflexive narrative do not exist solely for their own sake, they comment upon the content of the story with how that story is told. And yes, there is an actual story, one with real soul and humanity. In other words, though it is odd, Tabu is not merely a dry intellectual exercise or cold art object.

Tabu opens with a brief prologue. A European man wanders through the African savannah with his African servants following. He is heartbroken and haunted by the ghost of his lost wife. He wanders into a river and is eaten by a crocodile. The Africans stare blankly, and then dance with glee over their newfound freedom. Legend has it that, ever since, a crocodile and a woman in European dress appear together in the moonlight, seeming to share a strange affinity. Though the prologue is unrelated to the characters of the rest of Tabu, it introduces several themes of the film: tragic romantic yearning, death, and the condescension of colonialism. It also introduces a sly, absurdist sense of humor that appears quietly throughout the film, as this brief sequence plays out in a deadpan, cheeky fashion.

Then the first half of the film begins, titled "Paradise Lost". We follow Pilar, a middle aged, lonely but good-hearted woman living in modern Portugal. She is a devout Catholic and social activist, genuinely concerned for the well-being of others. Pilar is a marvelous, interesting character who could sustain a good film on her own, but Tabu isn't actually about her. Pilar becomes increasingly involved in the life of her neighbor Aurora, a senile old woman. She is eccentric and unpleasant, casually racist towards her grouchy, put-upon African maid, Santa. Pilar pities Aurora, as she is clearly nearing the end of her life and has driven her children away with her unbearable behavior. Pilar listens to Aurora's paranoid stories, where she rambles about her strange dreams, paranoid delusions that Santa is performing voodoo rituals against her, and incoherent confessions of a guilt-ridden past. As she is dying, Aurora asks for Pilar to track down an old acquaintance of hers, Gian-Luca Ventura. Pilar does find Gian-Luca, an old man living in a nursing home. Gian-Luca tells Pilar and Santa the story of his and Aurora's relationship many years past.

Here begins the second part of Tabu, titled "Paradise". It takes place in colonial Mozambique in the 1960s. Aurora is a beautiful and spirited young woman, married to the owner of a ranch. She is a child of privilege and a renowned big game hunter with a brassy personality. Gian-Luca is a handsome wanderer, a vagabond and womanizer attracted to Africa's promise of freedom and an easy life. After Aurora's pet crocodile escapes and ends up in Gian-Luca's fountain, they begin a secret love affair. Their affair eventually has tragic consequences, and ends just as Portuguese rule in Africa is beginning to crumble due to native resistance. "Paradise" is told in a dramatically different style to "Paradise Lost". "Paradise Lost" is filmed in lush black-and-white, but otherwise is very straightforward in its presentation. "Paradise" is almost a silent film, with the exception of diegetic sound (the ever-present bird calls and buzzing bugs of Africa) and old Gian-Luca's narration of his story. But there is no dialogue, and Aurora and Gian-Luca behave like silent film actors, with broad and emphatic gestures and expressions. Why did director Miguel Gomes decide to portray Gian-Luca's story this way? I have a few ideas. One of them is very simple. In memories, we tend to remember events and sensory impressions more than words spoken. Since "Paradise" is entirely a recollection by Gian-Luca, it makes sense that it is told in the style of a silent film - the dialogue is forgotten and irrelevant, only the settings and characters' actions matter.

Silent film is also a perfect fit with melodramatic storytelling. And "Paradise", with its archetypal characters, Europeans in an exotic setting, and tale of betrayal and scandal, certainly counts as a melodrama. But there are odd conflicts of style within "Paradise". The melodramatic going-ons of the European colonists are shown in a romantic and stylized light, but are steadily interrupted by brief intrusions of documentary-style footage of Africans picking crops, cleaning houses, and waiting on the main characters. They are not portrayed in a melodramatic fashion whatsoever. In fact, the Europeans and Africans seem to exist in two different films awkwardly laid on top of each other. Furthering the distance between them, almost no interactions between colonists and Africans are seen. The stylistic distinction on Miguel Gomes's part is pointedly intentional. Just as the silent film melodrama of the lovers' affair does not fit stylistically with the unromantic portrait of Africa, the occupation of the colonists is a phony construct not organic to Africa or its people. Tabu walks a fine tightrope with skill, and never overplays or calls attention to its ironies. The melodrama is engaging and moving in its own right - the characters and their emotions, though heightened, are never less than sincerely portrayed. But simultaneously the film undermines their story by subtly but unmistakably portraying it as a romantic falsehood.

Correlations could also be made between the affair of Aurora and Gian-Luca and the dissolution of Portuguese rule in Africa. Their affair is passionate, but based upon folly and selfishness. There was moral rot inside it from the very beginning, thus it was doomed to failure. It leads to tragedy, and the useless murder of another European character. In their own artificial world, the colonizers began to destroy themselves. Like Aurora and Gian-Luca's foolish romantic fling, colonization was built upon lies. Tabu seems to suggest that the falsity in its foundations began to destroy it from within before the inevitable African revolution even began.

The two halves of Tabu are very different in the stories they tell and how they tell them, but they complement and illuminate each other in fascinating ways. After watching "Paradise", much of the dying Aurora's inexplicable behavior in "Paradise Lost" makes sense - her panicked guilt and casual racism especially. In her condescending treatment of Santa, who does not attempt to hide her contempt for her employer, are the pathetic, dying remnants of a colonial worldview. And since we only ever saw the old Aurora and Gian-Luca, now dotty and wasting away, through Pilar's perspective, Tabu provokes thought about the stories everyone carries. Nobody would have ever guessed that the irritating old Aurora had lived so wildly, and had so many adventures and regrets in her past.

Available to watch on Netflix.