Notes on Gillo Pontecorvo’s “Queimada”, with dialog excerpts
Leading cast members: Evariato Marquez, Marlon Brando
Set
in the mid-19th century, in Queimada (also known by the English title
Burn!) Marlon Brando plays a mercenary agent provocateur, William Walker,
hired by the British admiralty but in effect working for British business
interests in the sugar trade, which was a major global commodity in the 19th
century. Walker comes to the fictional Portuguese colony, Queimada, in the West
Indies. His mission is to foment a black slave rebellion in order to force the
Portuguese out. However, once they’re gone, the British intend to set up an
independent republic headed by local oligarchs that will be a puppet of the British
sugar barons. They plan to end their own dependent relationship with Portugal
so that they can sell sugar on their own terms on the global market, and they
plan to end slavery and turn the plantation workers into salaried labor.
The
only thing Walker needs is someone with the leadership abilities, rebellious
qualities, and the charisma whom he can manipulate into leading a revolt. He
finds him in José Dolores, played by Evariato Marquez, a non-professional actor
Pontecorvo discovered. They form a bond while Dolores is guided by Walker toward
starting and leading a rebellion. But after the Portuguese are defeated, and he
is denied a role in the new nation, Dolores realizes that he was used by Walker
and the British. He is forced to give up control to the local mestizo (mixed
race) political figures and the oligarchs. Dolores was faced with the classic
dilemma of revolutionaries. The rebels knew how to fight, but they are
completely unprepared to govern and defend their new nation from foreign
enemies. As Walker reminds him, the only reason the revolution succeeded was
because British navy ships were in the harbor, deterring any reaction from
Portugal.
Ten
years later, the British sugar barons (Royal Sugar) controlling the nominally
independent republican government are once again fighting with Dolores and his
rebel army. The rebels are close to victory, threatening a bloody overthrow of
the republic and the plantation owners, so Walker is brought back to the island
to devise a strategy for defeating the rebellion.
Queimada
is one of the most radical and revolutionary films ever made by a major film
studio. It deals with race, colonialism, slavery, revolution, insurgency and counter-insurgency
warfare, and the “creative destruction” required by capitalism. Much of the
dialog could serve as textbook lessons in economics and the history of
imperialism, and because of this aspect of the film, many people accustomed to
modern Hollywood fare might find it heavily pedantic—not that that is a bad
thing. The director may have wanted to teach the audience much more than
entertain the audience.
The
film’s themes are timeless, but at the time when it appeared in 1969 it was
particularly relevant. When audiences first saw this film, they were keenly
aware of the obvious comparison being made to the US war in Vietnam and the
global spirit of rebellion that had erupted throughout the world in the 1960s.
The
film was so radical that the film studio that made it (United Artists) decided
to cut short its run in cinemas and never promote the film again. The company
made profits on other films and decided to take a loss on this one. The few
people who saw the film during its short run in 1969 talked and wrote about it
and gave it a legendary status. Marlon Brando wrote in his autobiography (Songs
my Mother Taught Me, p. 320, chapter 46) that it was his best work and
proudest accomplishment, even though he fought bitterly with the director and
his co-star during the making of the film. The film remained largely unseen and
forgotten until its release on DVD in 2005, and since then it has been somewhat
revived.
About the leading actors, Marlon Brando and Evariato
Marquez
Gillo
Pontecorvo might have been deliberately trying to aggravate his star, Marlon
Brando, by choosing a non-English speaking amateur to act alongside him in the
other lead role. In his autobiography, Brando describes in his autobiography how
he grew extremely impatient with Marquez’ struggles with English, and
difficulty remembering lines and expressing emotions, and he left the set in
protest on one occasion and went back to Los Angeles for a few weeks. The
clever trick Pontecorvo pulled here was to set up a tension between the actors
that was the same as what it was between their characters. Brando played a
professional provocateur and warrior, and Marquez played someone who was a
complete amateur in the arts of political intrigue, revolution and leadership.
Since Marquez had no experience as an actor and perhaps couldn’t fake his
emotions, the only way for Pontecorvo to make his performance convincing was to
create the necessary tension between the two actors themselves. As an
experienced method actor, Brando must have known the game that was being played
on him, but this didn’t stop his frustration with the situation.
|
Marlon Brando on his work in Queimada:
Aside from Elia Kazan and Bernardo Bertolucci, the
best director I worked with was Gillo Pontecorvo, even though we nearly
killed each other. He directed me in a 1968 film that practically no one saw.
Originally called Queimada!, it was released as Burn! I played
an English spy, Sir William Walker, who symbolized all the evils perpetrated
by the European powers on their colonies during the nineteenth century. There
a lot of parallels to Vietnam, and the movie portrayed the universal theme of
the strong exploiting the weak. I think I did the best acting I’ve ever done
in that picture, but few people came to see it.[1]
|
Queimada: dialog from key scenes
1. 00:27:10 Slave or employee?
In order to encourage the local oligarchs to rebel
against Portuguese rule, William Walker explains to them the benefits of
independent, flexible economic relations that parties are free to enter or
leave at any time. He suggests Queimada would have such freedom if it were not
“married” to Portugal. Likewise, he suggests that slavery is no longer the best
labor arrangement. He asks the men to consider which is more convenient, a
whore that one can pay for only when she is needed, or a wife who must be cared
for even while sick or in old age. Likewise, in a free republic it would be
better to free the slaves and use wage labor on the plantations instead. After
this scene, the oligarchs form an alliance with the slave rebellion and
assassinate the Portuguese governor. The revolution succeeds, assisted by the
fact that British ships were in port deterring any response that might come
from Portugal.
William Walker (WW): Gentlemen, let me ask you a question. Now, my
metaphor might seem a trifle impertinent, but I think it’s very much to the
point. Which do you prefer, or should I say, which do you find more convenient?
A wife or one of these mulatto girls? No, no, please don’t misunderstand. I’m
speaking strictly in terms of economics. What is the cost of the product? What
does the product yield? The product, in this case, being love. Purely physical
love... since sentiments, obviously, play no part in economics. Quite. Now, a
wife must be provided with a home, with food, with dresses, with medical attention,
etcetera, etcetera. You’re obliged to keep her a whole lifetime, even when she’s
grown old and perhaps a trifle unproductive. Then, of course, if you have the
bad luck to survive her, you have to pay for the funeral. No, no, it’s true.
Gentlemen, I know it seems amusing but actually those are the facts, aren’t
they? Now, with a prostitute, on the other hand, it’s quite a different matter,
isn’t it? You see there’s no need to lodge her or to feed her, certainly not to
dress her or to bury her, thank God. She’s yours only when you need her. You pay
her only for that service, and you pay her by the hour. Which, gentlemen, is
more important and more convenient? A slave or a paid worker? Which do you find
more convenient? Foreign domination with its laws, its vetoes, its taxes, its
commercial monopolies, or independence—with your own government, your own laws,
your own administration, and the freedom to trade with anyone you like on terms
that are dictated only by the prices on the international market.
Teddy Sanchez:
Not only for the freedom of trade, Mr. Walker. I believe that for many of us
there are idealistic motives which are even more important. We are now a
nation, a small nation, born here and forged with toil, with difficulty. It
took more than three centuries. A nation, which originated from Portugal, but
now is not a part of Portugal anymore, and that no longer wants to be a
Portuguese colony.
Mr. Prada:
That’s all quite correct, my dear Teddy. We all agree on the idealistic
motives. But it’s the example of the whore that doesn’t convince me as yet, Mr.
Walker. What will happen if once the Negro ceases to be a slave and, instead of
wanting to be a worker, wants to be the boss?
WW:
That’s exactly what will happen if we go on arguing about it. Four months ago, José
Dolores was on the Sierra Madre with a few dozen men. Then he reached Sierra
Trinidad with four or five hundred. Now there are thousands. Spreading through
the lowlands. It is my view that if you don’t take immediate action, if you don’t
weave yourselves into this revolt, you’ll be swept away. Then your ex-slaves,
instead of becoming your workers, will not become your bosses, Mr. Prada, but
your executioners.
WW:
Now, what are my interests in the matter? And who am I? Very simply, I
represent Her Britannic Majesty. A British agent, if you prefer. But actually,
you know, England wants the same thing that you want—the freedom of trade and
therefore an end to foreign domination in all of Latin America. But what
England does not want, however, and what I think you yourselves do not want,
are these revolutions carried to their extreme consequences. Men like José
Dolores and Toussaint L’Ouverture are perhaps necessary to ignite a situation,
but then after that, they become very dangerous, as in Haiti, for example.
Several voices in the room: Yes, you certainly have got a
point there.
WW:
So, gentlemen, as you can see, I think our interests coincide, at least for the
moment, and they also coincide with progress and civilization. And for those
who believe in it, it’s important.
Mr. Prada:
And you? Do you believe in it, Mr. Walker?
WW:
Yes, Mr. Prada, I do.
2. 00:47:24 From fighting a revolution to
governing
Immediately after winning independence from Portugal,
there is a contest for power between the oligarchs and José Delores, who is
backed by his rebel army. Delores stubbornly refuses to negotiate or give up
power, so eventually he is forced out by economic realities and his inability
to form a competent government.
WW:
Who’ll govern your island, José? Who’ll run your industries? Who’ll handle your
commerce? Who’ll cure the sick? Teach in your schools? This man? Or that man?
Or the other? Civilization is not a simple matter, José. You cannot learn its
secrets overnight. Today civilization belongs to the white man and you must
learn to use it. Without it, you cannot go forward.
José Dolores (JD): But to go where, Inglês? It is better that you, too,
go away.
[Inglês
(Englishman) is José’s nickname for Walker.]
3. 00:59:50 A century in a decade
Ten years pass and the government of Quiemada has been
unable to improve the lives of peasants, or more importantly, allow them to
govern themselves. José Delores has amassed another rebel army that has fought
a long insurgency by making sporadic attacks then retreating to mountain
hideouts. William Walker has been contracted again as a military advisor,
sanctioned by the British government and the Queimada government, and paid by Royal
Sugar. He reminds his clients that the world can change very little over a
century then change drastically in a short period. Such was the case in 1848. His
words are similar to Lenin’s famous quote: “There are decades where nothing
happens; and there are weeks where decades happen.” Or one might say that “when
things fall apart, like boots and hearts, they really fall apart.” Gradual
decay, then sudden collapse.
WW:
Ten years is a long time. It can be a very long time.
Mr. Prada:
Even so, it’s still only 10 years.
WW:
No, I only want to explain, gentlemen, that very often, between one historical
period and another ten years suddenly might be enough to reveal the
contradictions of a whole century. And so, often we have to realize that our
judgments and our interpretations, and even our hopes may have been wrong.
4. 01:05:48 Insurgency and Counter-insurgency
William Walker explains the necessity of waging all-out
war in order to defeat the insurgency. Since the insurgents rely on
non-combatant villagers to supply them, the villages must be destroyed and the surviving
inhabitants must be sent to refugee camps in the lowlands.
WW:
Now we must realize, gentlemen, that if we are to succeed in eliminating José
Dolores, it’s not because we’re better than he is or that we’re braver than he
is. It’s simply because we have more arms and more men than he has. And we must
also realize that the soldier either fights to earn his pay or because his
country forces him to do so. But the guerrilla, on the other hand, fights for
an idea. And therefore he’s able to produce 20, 30, 50 times as much. Is that
clear?
Mr. Prada:
No, Sir William, I don’t agree.
WW:
No? Well, I think it’s a rather simple calculation. What does a guerrilla have
to lose, except his life? Whereas you, General, have a lot to lose: Wife,
children, house, career, savings, personal pleasures and private aspirations,
and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. That’s simply the way of it. Now, according
to your information, José Dolores has less than 100 men, few arms, very little
ammunition, and no equipment. But you have thousands of soldiers and modern
arms and equipment. And yet, in six years, you’ve not been able to defeat him.
Why? Because their bases are here on the Sierra Madre. And on the Sierra Madre,
there’s no possibility of survival. There’s not a tree, not a blade of grass,
and the only animals are vipers and scorpions. And yet, in the last six years,
it is here that the guerrillas have made their headquarters. You see, up here,
on the peaks of these mountains there are a handful of small villages. Now,
these people are destitute with subhuman living standards, and they haven’t
anything to lose, either. The guerrillas are their only hope. Now, these
villagers are the roots on which the guerrillas survive. They must be cut.
5. 01:22:41 We had to destroy everything
to save everything
The scenes of the final scorched earth campaign against
the rebels reminded audiences of the brutal raids on Vietnamese villages, the
chemical-weapons defoliation of Vietnam, and the “the apocryphal commander in
the Vietnam War” who said, “We had to destroy the village in order to save the
village.” [2]
Mr. Shelton:
So there are no more plantations, they’re all burnt to the ground.
WW:
They’ll rise again.
Mr. Shelton:
In 10 years, Sir William.
WW:
Well, you have another 89 years to exploit them. Renewable. Doesn’t your
contract specify that?
Mr. Shelton:
Your contract specifies that you are to defend our interests. Instead, you’re
destroying them.
WW:
Well, that’s the logic of profit, isn’t it, my dear Shelton? One builds to make
money. And to go on making it, or to make more, sometimes it’s necessary to destroy.
Yes, I think perhaps it’s inevitable.
Mr. Shelton:
Then why didn’t you say so before?
WW:
Well, why didn’t I say what?
Mr. Shelton:
Where is it going to end?
WW:
As I told you, with the end of José Dolores.
Mr. Shelton:
At this price, it’s no longer profitable.
WW:
It isn’t you who pays, or even Royal Sugar.
Soldier:
Do you remember him? There is Tin-Tin, too, one of the old ones. But there is
no José Dolores.
WW:
And you’re sorry?
Soldier:
No. I wouldn’t want to find him like this.
WW:
Well, you might have thought of that before.
Soldier:
No. I say as long as José Dolores lives, I have work, and good pay. Is it not
the same for you?
WW:
No, on the contrary, I work for an overall sum.
Mr. Shelton:
I must report to London.
WW:
Do that, Mr. Shelton.
Mr. Shelton:
I’ll tell them how things are.
WW:
Yes, I hope so.
Mr. Shelton:
I’ll have to inform them that the island has been completely burnt and José
Dolores has once again broken through the encirclement.
WW:
Tell them that, Mr. Shelton. And tell them also that you make me sick.
Mr. Shelton:
Sir William!
WW:
Do you know why this island is called Queimada? Because it was already burnt
once, and do you know why? Because even then, it was the only way to conquer
the resistance of the people, and after that, the Portuguese exploited the
island in peace for nearly 300 years.
Mr. Shelton:
Yes, but I was merely trying...
WW:
You know that fire can’t cross the sea because it goes out. But certain news,
certain ideas travel by ships’ crews. Have you any idea how many islands there
are on which Royal Sugar has concessions? You should know. And have you the
vaguest notion of what would happen to our employers if the example of José
Dolores reached those islands?
WW:
Mr. Shelton, I don’t know. I’m not just quite sure what I’m doing here. Money
is important, but then my salary is small compared to yours. Therefore, it’s
less important. I’m also not sure just why I do what I’m doing. Perhaps it’s
only for the pleasure of it. Or perhaps I’m unable to do anything else. Perhaps
I’ve nothing else to do, but I do know that whenever I try to do something, I
try to do it well. And to see it clearly and through to the end. Do you
understand?
6. 01:28:45
Manipulations
of Empire
This passage serves as a good synopsis of the story as
it comes to its conclusion. Toward the end of the story Walker seems to be
troubled by taking stock of what he has accomplished, but it is not clear that
he truly regrets the way he has spent his life. When he is ready to depart the
island, he is confident and unguarded as he walks to his ship. His assassin,
posing as an obsequious porter, takes him completely by surprise.
WW:
That’s José Dolores... A fine specimen, isn’t he? You know, it’s an exemplary
story. In the beginning he was nothing. A porter, a water carrier. And England
makes him a revolutionary leader, and when he no longer serves her, he’s put
aside. And when he rebels again, more or less in the name of those same ideals
which England has taught him, England decides to eliminate him. Don’t you think
that’s a small masterpiece?
Military officer: And you’re the author, Sir William.
WW:
No, only the instrument.
7. 01:29:30 Revolutions yet to come
Captured and facing death, José speaks with his
captors, black soldiers of the republican army.
JD:
No, it is not true that fire destroys everything. A little life always remains.
Yet in the end, a blade of grass. So how come the white invaders win? How come
they win in the end? Someone of us will always remain. Still others will be
born later. And others, too, will begin to understand. In the end, you also
will understand. And the whites, in the end, will be maddened by you. Madder
than a white beast becomes when he finds he’s closed in, and the mad beast will
run for the last time, pursued and hunted all over the island until he falls
into one of the great fires that he himself has made. And the groans from this
dying beast will become our first cry of freedom. One that will be heard far,
far beyond this island.
WW:
Come on. Get ready. We’re going back. War was unavoidable, José. Thanks to
heaven that you and I remained alive. You know, it’s inevitable that someone has
to lose. In this case, it was inevitably you. Otherwise, how could I have won?
I see that you’ve lost everything, including power of speech.
8. 01:37:53 Martyrdom?
Now that José Delores has been captured, the government
has a problem. If he is put to death, he will become a martyr, in which case
revolution may spread to other islands where Royal Sugar has plantations. Thus
they decide to offer José Dolores a payoff and a chance to live in exile. He
refuses their offer.
WW:
Well, all that remains now is to settle what to do with him.
Mr. Prada:
Well, let’s see, we certainly can’t use the garrote. It’s too reminiscent of
Portugal. Either we shoot him, as we did Teddy Sanchez, or we hang him as you
do in England. All things considered, hanging is better. It’s more solemn.
Mr. Shelton:
More definite.
Mr. Prada:
Right.
WW:
Right. But you see the man that fights for an idea is a hero. And a hero who is
killed becomes a martyr, and a martyr immediately becomes a myth. A myth is
more dangerous than a man because you can’t kill a myth. Don’t you agree, Mr.
Shelton? I mean, think of his ghost running through the Antilles. Think of the
legends and the songs.
Mr. Shelton:
Better songs than armies.
WW:
Better silence than songs.
Mr. Prada:
And that is?
WW:
A hero that betrays is soon forgotten.
Mr. Prada:
Well, we’ll have to see if he’s willing to betray.
WW:
Well, now let’s see, against whom did José Dolores rebel? Against Teddy
Sanchez. And you, General, have eliminated Teddy Sanchez. Now that, I think, that
gives you a position in common. See, there’s the beginning of a rationale which
I think José Dolores could make public without too much shame.
Mr. Shelton:
Do you think he will do it?
WW:
Would you do it in his place?
Mr. Shelton:
Me? For God’s sake, Sir William. I would do anything to stay alive. But, José
Dolores?
WW:
You can’t tell what a man will do to stay alive. Until you put him to the test,
you’ll really never know.
Mr. Prada:
Yes, as long as he leaves Queimada.
Mr. Shelton:
And the Antilles, General.
Mr. Prada:
And the Antilles, Mr. Shelton. Will you see to it?
WW:
I am finished, General. This is your duty.
9. 01:45:35 Dying Message
JD:
Inglês! Remember what you said? Civilization belongs to whites. But what
civilization, and till when?
Notes
[1]
Marlon
Brando, Songs My Mother Taught Me (Random House, 1995), 320.
[2]
Stephen L. Carter, “Destroying
a Quote’s History in Order to Save It,” Bloomberg, February 10, 2018.
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