AVALIAÇÃO DA IMDb
7,5/10
14 mil
SUA AVALIAÇÃO
Durante o boom da marijuana, em uma década violenta que viu as origens do tráfico de drogas na Colômbia, uma família indígena estão envolvida em uma guerra para controlar o negócio que acaba... Ler tudoDurante o boom da marijuana, em uma década violenta que viu as origens do tráfico de drogas na Colômbia, uma família indígena estão envolvida em uma guerra para controlar o negócio que acaba destruindo suas vidas e sua cultura.Durante o boom da marijuana, em uma década violenta que viu as origens do tráfico de drogas na Colômbia, uma família indígena estão envolvida em uma guerra para controlar o negócio que acaba destruindo suas vidas e sua cultura.
- Direção
- Roteiristas
- Artistas
- Prêmios
- 30 vitórias e 42 indicações no total
José Vicente
- Peregrino
- (as José Vicente Cote)
Avaliações em destaque
Unlike any gangster/drug movie you've ever seen, Pájaros de verano (Birds of Passage) is from the same team that made the astonishing O Abraço da Serpente (2015), and presents a thematically similar narrative, looking at the disintegration of an ancient indigenous culture over a period of years; in this case, the Wayúu people of the Guajira Peninsula in northern Colombia, whose way of life is decimated by the marijuana trade during the 1970s. Written by Maria Camila Arias and Jacques Toulemonde Vidal from a story by Cristina Gallego, and directed by Gallego and Ciro Guerra, the film is thematically focused on the clash between ancient tradition and modern greed, and is deeply respectful of the Wayúu, with Gallego and Guerra clearly troubled by the cultural losses concomitant with monetary prosperity. Partly an ethnographic study and partly a genre film depicting the rise and fall of a drug kingpin á la Scarface (1983), Pájaros strikes a broadly successful balance, allowing genre to inform anthropology and anthropology to enrich genre. On paper, it could be dismissed as just another gangster film, and although their adherence to the genre template does occasionally work against the story they're trying to tell, Gallego and Guerra have made a beautifully nuanced, aesthetically exceptional, and deeply lamentative film.
Loosely based on a true story, and divided into five sections - "Canto I: Wild Grass" (1968), "Canto II: The Graves" (1971), "Canto III: Prosperity" (1979), "Canto IV: The War" (1980), and "Canto V: Limbo" (1981) - Pájaros opens in a Wayúu village in 1968, with a ceremony celebrating the coming of age of Zaida (Natalia Reyes), which doubles as a courtship ritual. When Rapayet (José Acosta) makes a claim on her, her mother Úrsula (Carmiña Martínez) is unimpressed, because as a small trader of coffee and liquor, he is Zaida's social inferior, and hoping to put him off, she assigns him a dowry far beyond his means. However, he seizes on something suggested by his business partner, Moisés (Jhon Narváez), who has pointed out that the local American Peace Corp are looking for someone from whom to buy weed to bring it back to the US. Selling them the marijuana they want, Rapayet is not especially bothered that such illegal trade is frowned upon by the Wayúu, and he quickly makes enough money to secure the dowry, marrying Zaida. By the time we reach Canto II in 1971, Rapayet and the increasingly hot-headed and reckless Moisés are flying planeloads of weed across the border, and making so much money they have to weigh it rather than count it. However, as time passes, and the business becomes bigger and bigger, Úrsula warns Rapayet to tread carefully, but as the profit continues to escalate, so too do the tensions between the various players, compounded by Úrsula's cruel and uncontrollable son Leonídas ([link=nm9820632).
That Pájaros is aiming for a grand, folkloric tale of national significance, along the same lines as more traditional Colombian myths such as La Llorona or El Mohan, is seen in the fact that it both begins and ends with a blind bard narrating the events. Taken directly from the Homeric tradition, the presence of this figure immediately indicates the kind of story this is.
Aesthetically, although not as striking as Embrace of the Serpent, Pájaros still looks fantastic. Cinematographer David Gallego does a fantastic job of capturing the vast openness of the desert, with exquisitely composed shots that make full use of the 2.35:1 format, often dwarfing the characters against the immensity of the desert background. In terms of performances, Carmiña Martínez is the standout, tapping into the similarities between Úrsula and the queen in any number of Greek tragedies, someone whose beliefs are grounded in ethics, but who is on a preordained path of tragedy from which she cannot escape. And just as the gods were indifferent to the suffering of Euripides's Medea and Sophocles's Electra, so too are the deities of the Wayúu.
Throughout the film, the economy of Gallego and Guerra's visual language is striking. For example, early on, Rapayet, Zaida, and Úrsula are all shown living in small thatched huts made of stone and wood. Later, however, they live in in a heavily guarded sprawling modernist mansion in the middle of the desert. Another example is that, initially, we see Rapayet and Moisés using only one plane to carry their weed, but later, they have a fleet of planes at their command, telling us in one shot how much the scale of their operation has increased.
Although they remain within the parameters of the crime drama, depicting the rise and fall of a gangster, Guerra and Gallego are more concerned with the impact of the drug trade on the Wayúu than the drug trade itself. Uninterested in going into detail about the logistics of Rapayet's operation, they instead use the genre template as a platform from which to examine the clash between the ancient local traditions of the Wayúu and the ubiquitous and corruptive nature of monetary accruement as found in the twentieth-century world at large. The Wayúu are proud of how deep their customs run and how long they have maintained them, but their nonconformist and isolationist ideology has never faced anything as insidious as the avarice introduced by Rapayet. Just how corruptive it is, is seen in Leonídas, a boy who has grown up amidst amorality, corruption, and crime, and whose soul is built on Mammonism and entitlement. In the film's most disturbing scene, to "prove" his manhood to his friends, he forces a man to eat dog faeces for a wad of cash. Nothing in Wayúu history has ever prepared them for this level of barbarism.
In this sense, Pájaros is fundamentally about the clash between tradition and modernity; codes of honour and reciprocity destroyed by greed, materialism, and mistrust. In depicting the society before the birth of the drug trade, however, Gallego and Guerra are trying to reclaim Colombia's history for Colombians. All a lot of people know about Colombia comes from films made almost exclusively by non-Colombians for non-Colombians (think of Americentrist films such as Profissão de Risco (2001), Conexão Escobar (2016), and Feito na América (2017)). The film thus has an anthropological basis, immersing us in Wayúu culture throughout. However, Gallego and Guerra don't need to go into detail about the ins and outs of dream analysis, the systems of hegemony and protocol, the exchange-based economy, or the specifics of why one necklace is sacred but another is not. We're shown enough to understand how these people live - the centrality of family, the respect for the natural world, the reverence for the dead, the significance of communal ritual, the importance of ancient customs and superstitions, and above all, honour in all things.
The film makes its intentions known in the opening scene, which is built around Zaida's ceremony, just as O Poderoso Chefão (1972) indicates its main focus with the opening depiction of a wedding. Without any dialogue, the scene establishes the socio-political centrality of ritual and introduces us to the hierarchies and spiritual beliefs. This opening scene is contrasted with a later scene depicting a "second burial"; a custom where a casket is unearthed and opened, and the bones of the deceased cleaned and reburied. Unlike in the opening, the ritual in this scene is surrounded by men with machine guns; a nice bit of cinematic shorthand to show us how much has changed. In another example, after doing something to anger a rival clan, Leonídas is hidden away in a hut, and Úrsula performs a protective incantation. Leonídas, however, is unimpressed, saying he'd be happier if he was protected by men with guns. Elsewhere, a motif running through the film is the threat of a locust infestation, and when violence inevitably erupts, it's presented like a plague on the land, something that cannot be contained and that will blight all it touches.
In terms of problems, there are a few. For one, Rapayet is an extremely stoic character and very vaguely defined. He doesn't really come across as a person with an interiority, so rather than being someone who pursues things, he is someone to whom things happen, a cypher at the mercy of what the writers need him to be at any given moment. Along these lines, Zaida fares even worse. Despite the opening scene suggesting her centrality to the narrative, once she and Rapayet are married, she essentially becomes a background extra.
These few issues notwithstanding, Pájaros de verano is an exceptional film about the clash between the old and new worlds. A melancholy corrective to films such as Escobar: A Traição (2017) and shows such as Narcos (2015), it tells a story of a traditional culture decimated by greed. Making a powerful statement about what has been lost, by and large, Gallego and Guerra handle the integration of ethnographic study and genre film very well, with the movie as a whole serving as an excellent example of how talented filmmakers can use genre to serve their own thematic ends without necessarily making a genre film. Neither a thriller with some local details thrown on top nor a documentary with a manufactured dramatic structure, Pájaros is compelling and heartfelt throughout. The sense of detail, the cultural specificity, and the tragic inevitability of the story serve to fuse the socio-political, the ethnographic, and the thriller into a whole that is unlike any drug film you're likely to see.
Loosely based on a true story, and divided into five sections - "Canto I: Wild Grass" (1968), "Canto II: The Graves" (1971), "Canto III: Prosperity" (1979), "Canto IV: The War" (1980), and "Canto V: Limbo" (1981) - Pájaros opens in a Wayúu village in 1968, with a ceremony celebrating the coming of age of Zaida (Natalia Reyes), which doubles as a courtship ritual. When Rapayet (José Acosta) makes a claim on her, her mother Úrsula (Carmiña Martínez) is unimpressed, because as a small trader of coffee and liquor, he is Zaida's social inferior, and hoping to put him off, she assigns him a dowry far beyond his means. However, he seizes on something suggested by his business partner, Moisés (Jhon Narváez), who has pointed out that the local American Peace Corp are looking for someone from whom to buy weed to bring it back to the US. Selling them the marijuana they want, Rapayet is not especially bothered that such illegal trade is frowned upon by the Wayúu, and he quickly makes enough money to secure the dowry, marrying Zaida. By the time we reach Canto II in 1971, Rapayet and the increasingly hot-headed and reckless Moisés are flying planeloads of weed across the border, and making so much money they have to weigh it rather than count it. However, as time passes, and the business becomes bigger and bigger, Úrsula warns Rapayet to tread carefully, but as the profit continues to escalate, so too do the tensions between the various players, compounded by Úrsula's cruel and uncontrollable son Leonídas ([link=nm9820632).
That Pájaros is aiming for a grand, folkloric tale of national significance, along the same lines as more traditional Colombian myths such as La Llorona or El Mohan, is seen in the fact that it both begins and ends with a blind bard narrating the events. Taken directly from the Homeric tradition, the presence of this figure immediately indicates the kind of story this is.
Aesthetically, although not as striking as Embrace of the Serpent, Pájaros still looks fantastic. Cinematographer David Gallego does a fantastic job of capturing the vast openness of the desert, with exquisitely composed shots that make full use of the 2.35:1 format, often dwarfing the characters against the immensity of the desert background. In terms of performances, Carmiña Martínez is the standout, tapping into the similarities between Úrsula and the queen in any number of Greek tragedies, someone whose beliefs are grounded in ethics, but who is on a preordained path of tragedy from which she cannot escape. And just as the gods were indifferent to the suffering of Euripides's Medea and Sophocles's Electra, so too are the deities of the Wayúu.
Throughout the film, the economy of Gallego and Guerra's visual language is striking. For example, early on, Rapayet, Zaida, and Úrsula are all shown living in small thatched huts made of stone and wood. Later, however, they live in in a heavily guarded sprawling modernist mansion in the middle of the desert. Another example is that, initially, we see Rapayet and Moisés using only one plane to carry their weed, but later, they have a fleet of planes at their command, telling us in one shot how much the scale of their operation has increased.
Although they remain within the parameters of the crime drama, depicting the rise and fall of a gangster, Guerra and Gallego are more concerned with the impact of the drug trade on the Wayúu than the drug trade itself. Uninterested in going into detail about the logistics of Rapayet's operation, they instead use the genre template as a platform from which to examine the clash between the ancient local traditions of the Wayúu and the ubiquitous and corruptive nature of monetary accruement as found in the twentieth-century world at large. The Wayúu are proud of how deep their customs run and how long they have maintained them, but their nonconformist and isolationist ideology has never faced anything as insidious as the avarice introduced by Rapayet. Just how corruptive it is, is seen in Leonídas, a boy who has grown up amidst amorality, corruption, and crime, and whose soul is built on Mammonism and entitlement. In the film's most disturbing scene, to "prove" his manhood to his friends, he forces a man to eat dog faeces for a wad of cash. Nothing in Wayúu history has ever prepared them for this level of barbarism.
In this sense, Pájaros is fundamentally about the clash between tradition and modernity; codes of honour and reciprocity destroyed by greed, materialism, and mistrust. In depicting the society before the birth of the drug trade, however, Gallego and Guerra are trying to reclaim Colombia's history for Colombians. All a lot of people know about Colombia comes from films made almost exclusively by non-Colombians for non-Colombians (think of Americentrist films such as Profissão de Risco (2001), Conexão Escobar (2016), and Feito na América (2017)). The film thus has an anthropological basis, immersing us in Wayúu culture throughout. However, Gallego and Guerra don't need to go into detail about the ins and outs of dream analysis, the systems of hegemony and protocol, the exchange-based economy, or the specifics of why one necklace is sacred but another is not. We're shown enough to understand how these people live - the centrality of family, the respect for the natural world, the reverence for the dead, the significance of communal ritual, the importance of ancient customs and superstitions, and above all, honour in all things.
The film makes its intentions known in the opening scene, which is built around Zaida's ceremony, just as O Poderoso Chefão (1972) indicates its main focus with the opening depiction of a wedding. Without any dialogue, the scene establishes the socio-political centrality of ritual and introduces us to the hierarchies and spiritual beliefs. This opening scene is contrasted with a later scene depicting a "second burial"; a custom where a casket is unearthed and opened, and the bones of the deceased cleaned and reburied. Unlike in the opening, the ritual in this scene is surrounded by men with machine guns; a nice bit of cinematic shorthand to show us how much has changed. In another example, after doing something to anger a rival clan, Leonídas is hidden away in a hut, and Úrsula performs a protective incantation. Leonídas, however, is unimpressed, saying he'd be happier if he was protected by men with guns. Elsewhere, a motif running through the film is the threat of a locust infestation, and when violence inevitably erupts, it's presented like a plague on the land, something that cannot be contained and that will blight all it touches.
In terms of problems, there are a few. For one, Rapayet is an extremely stoic character and very vaguely defined. He doesn't really come across as a person with an interiority, so rather than being someone who pursues things, he is someone to whom things happen, a cypher at the mercy of what the writers need him to be at any given moment. Along these lines, Zaida fares even worse. Despite the opening scene suggesting her centrality to the narrative, once she and Rapayet are married, she essentially becomes a background extra.
These few issues notwithstanding, Pájaros de verano is an exceptional film about the clash between the old and new worlds. A melancholy corrective to films such as Escobar: A Traição (2017) and shows such as Narcos (2015), it tells a story of a traditional culture decimated by greed. Making a powerful statement about what has been lost, by and large, Gallego and Guerra handle the integration of ethnographic study and genre film very well, with the movie as a whole serving as an excellent example of how talented filmmakers can use genre to serve their own thematic ends without necessarily making a genre film. Neither a thriller with some local details thrown on top nor a documentary with a manufactured dramatic structure, Pájaros is compelling and heartfelt throughout. The sense of detail, the cultural specificity, and the tragic inevitability of the story serve to fuse the socio-political, the ethnographic, and the thriller into a whole that is unlike any drug film you're likely to see.
"Birds of Passage" (2018 release from Colombia; 125 min.) is a drug drama about a Wayuu (northern Colombia) family. As the movie opens, Zaida has completed her year of confinement "with grace and dignity" according to her mom, and now the village is celebrating Zaida becoming a woman. Rapayet, a young man in the village, has his eyes on her, and his uncle asks Zaida's family. The family, however, is demanding a dowry of 30 goats and 20 cows, among other things. Rapayet needs to come up with money, lots of money, and by coincidence (when a Peace Corps guy is looking for weed) gets involved in the drug trade... At this point we're less than 15 min. into the movie but to tell you more of the plot will spoil your viewing experience, you'll just have to see for yourself how it all plays out.
Couple of comments: this is the latest movie from Ciro Guera (who previously brought us the equally excellent "Embrace of the Serpent") and Cristina Gallego. "Birds of Passage" follows one particular family's involvement in the drug trade from 1968 to 1980, and the movie is brought in 5 chapters (called "Songs" in the movie: Song I Wild Grass 1968' Song II The Graves 1971, etc. When you heard the words "drug trade" and "Colombia", we typically associate them with movies like "Escobar: Paradise Lost". "Birds of Passage" is a completely different type drug drama, mostly because this deal with an isolated clan, where family and tradition means everything (literally), and due to the small and remoteness of this clan, everything becomes personal very quickly. The cast, unknowns but for Natalia Reyes (who plays Zaida), is generally outstanding. Last but not least, be sure to check out the scenery, which is almost a character in and of itself.
"Bird of Passage" premiered at last year's Cannes film festival to great acclaim, and it finally appeared this weekend at my local art-house movie theater, I couldn't wait to see it. The Sunday matinee screening where I saw this at was attended poorly (6 people including myself). If you are interested in seeing a Colombia drug drama from a very different perspective that what you probably envision, I'd readily suggest you check this out, be it in the theater (if you still can), on VOD, or eventually on DVD/Blu-ray, and draw your own conclusion.
Couple of comments: this is the latest movie from Ciro Guera (who previously brought us the equally excellent "Embrace of the Serpent") and Cristina Gallego. "Birds of Passage" follows one particular family's involvement in the drug trade from 1968 to 1980, and the movie is brought in 5 chapters (called "Songs" in the movie: Song I Wild Grass 1968' Song II The Graves 1971, etc. When you heard the words "drug trade" and "Colombia", we typically associate them with movies like "Escobar: Paradise Lost". "Birds of Passage" is a completely different type drug drama, mostly because this deal with an isolated clan, where family and tradition means everything (literally), and due to the small and remoteness of this clan, everything becomes personal very quickly. The cast, unknowns but for Natalia Reyes (who plays Zaida), is generally outstanding. Last but not least, be sure to check out the scenery, which is almost a character in and of itself.
"Bird of Passage" premiered at last year's Cannes film festival to great acclaim, and it finally appeared this weekend at my local art-house movie theater, I couldn't wait to see it. The Sunday matinee screening where I saw this at was attended poorly (6 people including myself). If you are interested in seeing a Colombia drug drama from a very different perspective that what you probably envision, I'd readily suggest you check this out, be it in the theater (if you still can), on VOD, or eventually on DVD/Blu-ray, and draw your own conclusion.
This marvelous movie takes place in Colombia, within the Peninsula of the Guajirain, a sparsely populated and arid area, and mostly played with Wayuu autochthons. This timeless univers is characterized by a rather pronounced communitarianism, each village highlighting its differences with the surrounding ones, while the origin of these differences remains, as often, unexplained and obscure. Nevertheless, they share ancestral traditions, folklore and values such as honor and family bonds. Thus, during the first 30 minutes, we do not really know when the film takes place, until the informative and surprising appearance of cars. Thus, we may guess that we are in the 60s / 70s. A marriage proposal between a man and a woman from two neighboring tribes will be, by a strange combination of circumstances related to an exorbitant dowry, the opportunity to integrate the marijuana trafficking, which is a very lucrative universe while slowly distorting personalities. Like in a Greek tragedy, these families will ineluctably suffer a descent into hell, via the classical 'eye for eye, tooth for tooth' philosophy.
The film is visually sober and simple, but of an exacerbated aestheticism, with an unusual care about details, including birds. Moreover, the actors are excellent, especially the two main ones: José Acosta (Rapayet) and Carmiña Martínez (Úrsula).
The film is visually sober and simple, but of an exacerbated aestheticism, with an unusual care about details, including birds. Moreover, the actors are excellent, especially the two main ones: José Acosta (Rapayet) and Carmiña Martínez (Úrsula).
Greetings again from the darkness. It's not unusual for movies to "trick" us into embracing a drug dealer, and even kind of rooting for them - despite the near universal condemnation of such folks when we are outside of a dark theatre. Co-directors Cristina Gallego and Ciro Guerra were the producer and director behind the Oscar nominated EMBRACE OF THE SERPANT (2015) about an Amazon tribe striving to hold tight to their way of life despite outside interference. This time out, they focus on the rural Guajira territory of Columbia, with its desert conditions and villagers committed to their own traditions.
The film is based on a true story and covers the time period of 1960-1980, and is separated by chapter titles that include the year and a hint of what's to follow. We first see Zaida (Natalia Reyes) as a girl in confinement as she prepares to be introduced as a woman to the villagers. This is one of the more elaborate rituals of the village, and it leads to Rapayet (Jose Acosta) asking for Zaida's hand in marriage. Her mother Ursula, a respected village elder, sets the dowry at what she believes in an unattainable level for Rapayet: 30 goats, 20 cows, and 5 necklaces. Ursula has unwittingly set off a chain of events that eventually brings the family money, power, and tragedy. How can a few goats and cows cause this? Well, when one is poor and needs to quickly assemble a large dowry, what better way than to enter the drug trade? And that's exactly what Rapayet does.
Rapayet's friend and partner in the coffee trading business, Moises (Jhon Narvaez), joins him in the transition of careers, and while Rapayet is content to build his empire quietly and under the radar, Moises runs amok with the power and money. Ursula is respected for her abilities as a dream reader, and she's constantly dousing Rapayet's business with the cold water of her visions ... worried mostly about the safety of her daughter Zaida. By 1971, Rapayet's business of peddling marijuana to gringos is booming, and by 1979 (in a chapter entitled "Prosperity") we see the results: a mansion-fortress in the desert protected by guards with automatic weaponry (a sure sign that bad news is on the way).
What began as a look at peaceful remote villagers sticking to the traditional path of their ancestors, transforms into a drug war featuring cartel mobsters. Cinematographer David Gallego contrasts the beauty and simplicity of traditions with the danger and violence of new money and new world order. Leonardo Heiblum's score is a terrific complement as well. The infancy of the Columbian drug trade presented here conveniently places blame on the free-spirited youngsters of the Peace Corps; while the story plays out like a Greek tragedy, replete with mixed messages on revenge, capitalism, tradition, greed, and family ties. It's a rags-to-riches story that pulls no punches when it comes to the price paid for taking an illicit shortcut. It's a path that can destroy lives and culture.
The film is based on a true story and covers the time period of 1960-1980, and is separated by chapter titles that include the year and a hint of what's to follow. We first see Zaida (Natalia Reyes) as a girl in confinement as she prepares to be introduced as a woman to the villagers. This is one of the more elaborate rituals of the village, and it leads to Rapayet (Jose Acosta) asking for Zaida's hand in marriage. Her mother Ursula, a respected village elder, sets the dowry at what she believes in an unattainable level for Rapayet: 30 goats, 20 cows, and 5 necklaces. Ursula has unwittingly set off a chain of events that eventually brings the family money, power, and tragedy. How can a few goats and cows cause this? Well, when one is poor and needs to quickly assemble a large dowry, what better way than to enter the drug trade? And that's exactly what Rapayet does.
Rapayet's friend and partner in the coffee trading business, Moises (Jhon Narvaez), joins him in the transition of careers, and while Rapayet is content to build his empire quietly and under the radar, Moises runs amok with the power and money. Ursula is respected for her abilities as a dream reader, and she's constantly dousing Rapayet's business with the cold water of her visions ... worried mostly about the safety of her daughter Zaida. By 1971, Rapayet's business of peddling marijuana to gringos is booming, and by 1979 (in a chapter entitled "Prosperity") we see the results: a mansion-fortress in the desert protected by guards with automatic weaponry (a sure sign that bad news is on the way).
What began as a look at peaceful remote villagers sticking to the traditional path of their ancestors, transforms into a drug war featuring cartel mobsters. Cinematographer David Gallego contrasts the beauty and simplicity of traditions with the danger and violence of new money and new world order. Leonardo Heiblum's score is a terrific complement as well. The infancy of the Columbian drug trade presented here conveniently places blame on the free-spirited youngsters of the Peace Corps; while the story plays out like a Greek tragedy, replete with mixed messages on revenge, capitalism, tradition, greed, and family ties. It's a rags-to-riches story that pulls no punches when it comes to the price paid for taking an illicit shortcut. It's a path that can destroy lives and culture.
This film is without a doubt a thought- provoking, chaotic and memorable experience.
A lot of films choose to talk about the drug wars and the effects that power and money can have to humans, but this one feels like no other. It is griping and intense and handles its subject material in the best of ways. It is obvious that the creator of the film did everything he could so that the movie feels realistic and interesting to the viewer.
Its beautiful and colorful visuals, the exceptional sound design and the strong and immersive soundtrack made you feel as a part of a whole and the film never felt boring or cliche. It is masterfully crafted and really well-paced. Every conversation and direction that the film takes feels logical and you can feel the chaos slowly coming to the surface and destroying this tribe's life. Also, whenever a certain ritual was taking place, like the bird-like dance or the spitting by the old lady that is the matriarch o the tribe, I was instantly hooked by it.
Its a movie about life and death and how a small change could lead to a larger one and to a larger one and in the end to death and chaos. Its a story about people which are trapped in their own deadly webs and are unable to escape.
Everything that was young and beautiful,the red dress of the young actress, the insects and the kids, the dances and that feel of family, togetherness and spirituality is lost and overshadowed by dullness and corrupted and greedy people, who seek power but in the end find death.
Tragic indeed
8/10 and who knows? maybe a 9 on a second watch
Você sabia?
- CuriosidadesThe directors, Cristina Gallego and Ciro Guerra, were a married couple, but divorced during production of the film.
- Erros de gravaçãoTodas as entradas contêm spoilers
- Citações
Victoria's Grandmother: Dreams prove the existence of the soul.
- Cenas durante ou pós-créditosAcknowledgements include: "A Santa Marta, la Virgen de la Candelaria y de la Guadalupe. Al amor que todo lo puede."
- Trilhas sonorasEl Pollo Vallenato
Composed by Luis Enrique Martínez
Performed by Adaulfo Brito, Britnis Molino, Wilmer Deluque
Principais escolhas
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- How long is Birds of Passage?Fornecido pela Alexa
Detalhes
- Data de lançamento
- Países de origem
- Centrais de atendimento oficiais
- Idiomas
- Também conhecido como
- Birds of Passage
- Locações de filme
- Empresas de produção
- Consulte mais créditos da empresa na IMDbPro
Bilheteria
- Faturamento bruto nos EUA e Canadá
- US$ 507.259
- Fim de semana de estreia nos EUA e Canadá
- US$ 23.082
- 17 de fev. de 2019
- Faturamento bruto mundial
- US$ 2.517.405
- Tempo de duração2 horas 5 minutos
- Cor
- Mixagem de som
- Proporção
- 2.35 : 1
- 2.39:1
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