Sitges Review: Heart of Darkness gets a modern update in a bold Brazilian take

One of the most revered movies of all time, Francis Ford Coppola's Vietnam War epic Apocalypse Now, is a loose adaptation of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness. When a work has been adapted into such a definitive form, it might be intimidating to take on, or to put a new spin on it. Will your new version be able to step out of that long shadow? Will it find its own place in cinematic history, bringing something different to the table?

For Rogério Nunes's Heart of Darkness (Corazón de las tinieblas), the answer is a resounding "yes." From the moment the film starts, it's clear that you're seeing a bold and fresh take on the classic novella, one that still has Conrad's blood coursing through it, but is also something modern and daring. This is one of those movies that feels so alive, a breathing, heaving, angry thing, lashing out with energy, verve, passion. And one that has a lot on its mind. It uses Conrad's work as a jumping off point to reflect on and critique the world we live in, to contemplate modern morality, and to ask if the world is worth saving.

So, yeah, no easy task.

And honestly, this isn't one of those movies where I was watching it and thinking it felt effortless. Which isn't a dig against it or even a qualitative remark. I think it's more that you just feel how much hard work was poured into it, how much thought, what a journey it must have been to get this made. Indeed, on the film's Sitges page (it's currently playing there, which is how it came to my attention), the synopsis notes that this film took eleven years to make. Eleven years.

It was time well-spent.

We're dropped into a violent, dystopian vision of Brazil, one riddled with gun violence, crooked cops, drugs, general lawlessness. The opening scene of the movie feels like being dropped into a video game, one of those chaotic battle royale-type deals where the only rule is to shoot before you get shot. There's even a clever shot where the movie feels like a full-on first-person shooter. You immediately get a feel for the law of the land, which is basically that there is no law.

But above that lawlessness looms the "corporation," which I understood to also be the military. It feels very much like late-stage (or maybe current-stage, or always-stage) capitalism, the reality we're all hurtling toward if we haven't already landed there. People's lives mean nothing, easily thrown away in the name of industry and progress. God forbid anyone stand up or have a backbone. That makes you an easy target, one that will quickly be rolled away in a wheelbarrow, never to be spoken of again.

In the midst of all this chaos and violence stands Lieutenant Marlon, who's known as a snitch because he tries to stand up for what's right. Only the protection of judges has kept him alive -- his superiors at the corporation tell him as much. Ironically, they seem Marlon as someone who needs redemption for being too upstanding, and they give him the chance. He's assigned a mission to travel by boat to find the missing Captain Kurtz, whose entire squad was killed (apparently by a drug gang) and has gone missing since. There are numerous theories about where he could be: maybe kidnapped, maybe he did it, who knows. But he's a thorn in the corporation's side, a danger to them. It's Marlon's job to locate Kurtz, notify his superiors, and let it be taken care of for good.

So begins Marlon's journey into the, yes, heart of darkness, floating deeper into the favelas, through literal islands of garbage, meeting colorful characters along the way. His crew includes a plucky and mechanically-minded young girl, a crooked cop (is there any other kind?), and a couple others. My favorite character has to be Marcela, a striking trans woman who joins the crew halfway through the movie with her own motives. She wears a cowboy hat, brandishes a gun, and doesn't take shit from anyone. She's incredible.

The film's aesthetic is fitting of its world. There's a punk keel to everything, really nervy movement and energy animating this. The characters rarely have a rounded line on them: they're made of hard lines, sharp angles, like they've been chiseled and hardened by the harsh world they live in. They move through environments that look like a pastiche of CGI, hand-drawn elements, sometimes vistas that feel a little more painterly and soft. But always, there's that alive-ness at work, bursting through the blanket of drab gray that often fittingly coats the world. It's a really cool-looking movie.

Heart of Darkness clearly has a lot on its mind, or weighing on its heart. There are a few scenes where the characters discuss the gray areas of humanity, how no person is just one thing. The film bears this out over and over again. In supposedly dangerous neighborhoods, Marlon finds friendly faces. Meanwhile, the police are invading people's homes rather than protecting them, forcing them to flee to new areas and ways of life. Similarly, a priest who has valuable information is only willing to help for a price; there's no grace in his place of worship. It's so easy to judge someone at a glance, but impossible to ever truly know their heart. But if you spend a moment with them, or an hour, a day, maybe you can come closer to understanding the truth of their existence, however messy and unknowable it may ultimately be.

Similarly messy is the meaning of morality in a world that has strayed so far from it. What does it mean to be a good person in a world where goodness is no longer valued, or no longer seen? Does saving one person amount to anything when so many are mindlessly killed every day? Is there good to be found in everyone? Is there goodness at all? Or does the world need to burn so something new and fresh and better can grow in its place? These questions are as hard to navigate as the polluted river Marlon floats down, but the film does a fine job wrestling through them, and leaving you with something to chew on.