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Petra Costa’s Sobering View on Brazil’s Evangelical Political Era

For those opposing former Brazilian president Jair Bolsonaro, who are against anti-Indigenous discrimination, deforestation, abortion bans, institutional homophobia, and COVID denialism, his defeat in the 2022 general election brought relief rather than triumph. The presidency may have returned to liberal veteran Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva (commonly known as Lula) of the center-left Workers’ Party, but the political shifts and demographic changes that facilitated the recent far-right dominance continue to loom over Brazil, a nation marred by economic inequality and social unrest. “Nothing is hidden that will not be made manifest,” says Petra Costa, quoting from the Book of Luke, in her deeply impassioned new documentary, “Apocalypse in the Tropics,” which scrutinizes the recent past with a heavy heart and casts an anxious gaze toward the future.

The candid expressions of shame, fear, and faint hope prevalent in “Apocalypse in the Tropics” won’t surprise those who watched Costa’s previous documentary, “The Edge of Democracy.” Released in 2019 following Bolsonaro’s election victory and during Lula’s imprisonment on dubious corruption charges, the earlier film delved deeply into Brazil’s sharp rightward shift and cautiously scrutinized the new administration. A festival hit that secured a major Netflix release and an Oscar nomination, “The Edge of Democracy” laid the groundwork for this follow-up—premiering out of competition at Venice, with Brad Pitt among its executive producers—to similarly engage the audience.

Five years and a global pandemic later, Costa speaks of Bolsonaro’s tenure in the past tense but remains eager to analyze its origins and ramifications. Despite being released in divergent political climates, “The Edge of Democracy” and “Apocalypse in the Tropics” align in their outlook and approach, albeit focusing on different aspects. The new film centers on Brazil’s dramatic shift toward evangelical Christianity, a movement that has swelled to over 30% of the population from just 5% four decades ago, as suggested by its Revelation-inspired title.

Costa notes this as one of the quickest religious transformations in history, with significant implications that transcend the church-state boundary. Raised secular, she admits to her initial ignorance of Evangelical beliefs and their intrusion into Brazil’s social fabric. She undertakes a thorough study of the Bible, particularly the New Testament, but concludes that Brazil’s leading Evangelical influencers are driven by capitalist interests rather than divine guidance.

In “Apocalypse in the Tropics,” the focus is not on Bolsonaro or Lula, although Costa, an insightful interviewer, captures enlightening moments with Lula, a traditionally Catholic man who tactically appealed to the Evangelical base during his campaign by promising not to change abortion laws. The spotlight is on Pentecostal televangelist Silas Malafaia, a right-wing political puppeteer who embodies Brazil’s new populist politics more enduringly than the politicians he backs.

Malafaia, with his compelling persona, flirts with hate speech in his extensive interviews with Costa, advocating ultra-conservative Christian principles like zero tolerance on homosexuality and abortion as the desires of the Brazilian majority. Costa challenges him on the essence of democracy: Shouldn’t it protect minorities regardless of majority opinion? He dismisses the notion, amused. “I couldn’t reconcile how the same Jesus who preached love and forgiveness could be used to justify a government with such a lack of empathy,” Costa observes in a voiceover. In Evangelical politics, self-righteousness is seldom questioned: Claiming divine support negates the need for justification or compromise.

Even with the left back in power, Costa questions how close Brazil is to becoming a theocracy. Elegantly structured into Biblically-titled chapters, using classical religious imagery in stark contrast to Malafaia’s crude media outbursts, the film distances itself from the personal narration of its predecessor to pursue a broader picture. Costa’s research highlights the impact of American preacher Billy Graham, whose Brazilian tours in the 1970s contributed significantly to Evangelical growth, aimed at countering the leftward inclination of Brazilian Catholicism as part of a U.S. anti-Communist strategy.

In contemporary Brazil, Costa focuses on a struggling, disenchanted public that is highly susceptible to faith-based rhetoric. Leading up to the 2022 election, she speaks with a single mother working as a cleaner who supports Lula’s policies but feels swayed by the Gospel and Malafaia’s teachings, illustrating how prosperity theology greatly benefits Malafaia more than working-class Evangelicals.

This blend of religious zeal and political allegiance can be exploited destructively, as evidenced by the January 2023 riots following Bolsonaro’s defeat, where incited Bolsonaro supporters stormed Congress buildings, calling for “military intervention,” a stark parallel to the U.S. Capitol attack. This cautionary narrative isn’t restricted to Brazil alone.

Such drastic actions, Costa suggests, are an interpretation of the Judgment Day violence depicted in the Book of Revelation. As her camera lingers over the vandalized beauty of Brazil’s National Congress Palace, questions emerge about whether the apocalypse has already occurred and what the future holds.