Writers: Marcelo Caetano and Gabriel Domingues
Director: Marcelo Caetano
The depiction of sex work is hardly new territory for queer cinema, but Marcelo Caetano’s engaging second feature offers a nuanced perspective on one character’s search for personal freedom and family. Partially inspired by Caetano’s own relationship with the bustling metropolis of São Paulo, this journey of self-discovery is elevated by lively performances and a vivid sense of place, deftly balancing moments of queer joy with the harsher realities of urban living and the gig economy.
Newly released from a juvenile detention facility, 18-year-old Wellington (fresh-faced newcomer João Pedro Mariano) discovers that his parents, including his homophobic police officer father, have abandoned the city. Left to navigate the city alone, Wellington’s only support lies in an intimate community of queer friends. His fortunes shift during a late-night visit to an adult movie theatre, where he encounters Ronaldo (Ricardo Teodoro), a rugged sex worker more than twice his age. There is an immediate sexual charge between the pair, but this quickly evolves into a delicate and complex bond that flits between paternal care and romantic longing.
The script crucially avoids dictating any judgement about their age difference, or indeed Ronaldo’s profession, and the older man is soon initiating Wellington into the intricacies of sex work. However, it is not always smooth sailing, and an incident with a voyeur client soon goes awry, prompting Ronaldo to chide him: “Stop acting like a baby” — a moment that births Wellington’s nickname.
‘Baby’ is soon introduced to Ronaldo’s former partner and mother of his son, Priscilla (Ana Flavia Cavalcant), and her wife Jana (Bruna Linzmeyer). These tender scenes reflect Caetano’s advocacy for a broader understanding of family that transcends traditional norms. It is rare to witness such warm, functional support systems in queer cinema, and Baby moves fluidly through various circles with remarkable ease. This exploration of community is further enlivened by electrifying dance sequences, where Wellington’s friends are seen voguing in public spaces. These dynamic and joyful displays of queerness serve as a communal resistance against their everyday hardships.
São Paulo breathes and dances with grafters, drifters, and dreamers, its frenetic, fluorescent energy wonderfully captured by Joana Luz and Pedro Sotero’s vivid cinematography. The film’s fluctuating tone between gentleness and grittiness is compelling. However, it occasionally falters when the plot shifts focus from its emotional core to explore Baby and Ronaldo’s entanglements with local drug dealer Torres (Luiz Bertazzo), becoming less dramatically interesting. Still, its portrayal of alternative family models feels subtly political in a country where LGBTQ+ rights face increasing scrutiny and attacks from evangelical movements. In those moments of domesticity, Caetano’s generous, open-hearted film has a profound resonance.
Baby is screening at the BFI London Film Festival 2024.
