Onda Nova

Bluesky

In all the world, no country has made as big an impact on football as Brazil. Its greatest international successes came in the Sixties and Seventies, so it’s bizarre to think that during that whole period, women were forbidden to play. When, in 1983, that ban was finally lifted, the idea of their participation still carried a whiff of scandal as far as much of the Brazilian public was concerned. Directors José Antonio Garcia and Francisco ‘Ícaro’ Martins seized the opportunity with both hands and created this exuberant sex comedy about all the things that the players in such a team might get up to.

According to Martins, it wasn’t the sex that got them in trouble, as such, but their relaxed, inclusive approach to queer characters and the fact that female characters did what they wanted without being brought back into line by men. At any rate, the military dictatorship wasted no time in banning the film, and although the ban was later rescinded, it lost its moment, it’s chance for mainstream success. Now, after years of popping up at small festivals as a cult favourite, it is finally getting a proper Brazilian release, and at the same time it’s screening in London as part of BFI Flare.

The film isn’t only old – it was made on a very low budget – so there’s a rough and ready look to it, though diligent restoration work has restored the bright colours that are an important part of its appeal. ‘Onda Nova’ translates into English as ‘new wave’, and people here are dressed accordingly, though rather more eclectically than one saw in most places at the time. The film’s opening credits are spraypainted onto sheets hung between trees to the strains of the bright and poptastic Seagulls Football Club song, and the members of that club, accompanied by a variety of hangers-on, are enjoying a kick-about in the park on a sunny day. it’s acknowledged that they’re being filmed. In a cute little aside, a woman says that she’s resting whilst production is paused, so they can find someone else to dub. She’s badly dubbed, of course.

The plot meanders in multiple directions but it’s through the arrival of newcomer Valentina, whose sole qualification is having played the game with her brothers, that we get to meet people and find out who everybody is. She’s welcomed by team captain Neneca, whose cool approach to being the boss extends to letting half the team crash in her house at one time or another. We also encounter taxi driver Zita, whose cab is the site of a number of erotic encounters; sharp-witted Lili, who has two butch boyfriends who like to talk about Rainer Werner Fassbinder, and a revolver that’s going to lead to trouble; actress Rita, who dresses like showgirl and never misses an opportunity; and Potato, whose prowess on the field conceals a naïve romanticism that will lead her into serious difficulties.

A fair portion of the film is dedicated to intimate encounters, sometimes in beds but also in a variety of other locations. Unusually for the time, all these scenes are played without shame, regardless of the bodies involved, and women’s carnal pleasures are given at least as much focus as men’s. There are romantic attachments and jealousy, but the women are quite happy to enjoy one night stands and to fool around with no strings attached. Here, sexual connections function as an extension of social ones, and the sex itself lacks the what-goes-where scrutiny of pornography, instead exploring bodies as complete sensual objects, celebrating the musculature of the athletes and the process of discovery between lovers.

Throughout the film there is a sense of play, and even as the story evolves to take on darker material, something of that lightness, that happy-go-lucky quality remains. In the context of a military regime, where every aspect of life is supposed to be ordered, it is in itself a revolutionary way to live. There is a refreshing absence of fear. When the team gets in trouble over rumours of marijuana smoking and a mother’s complaint that her daughter is becoming too masculine, there’s an immediate sense of assurance that it’s going to be alright because, one way or another, these young people represent the future – the new wave that will wash away everything in its path.

Today the film’s message feels just as pertinent. It offers us a glimpse of a world in which nobody cares about gender or sexuality – in which what matters is not what people are but who they are. It’s a messy world whose inhabitants still make plenty of mistakes, some of them really stupid, but it’s a world full of hope and possibility. The film itself may be silly and not always coherent, but it’s full of life and energy, and a joy to watch.