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user\nTo speak relatively, if one were only to see now Hector Babenco's \"Pixote\" (1981, Brazil;pronounced as \"pi-shot\"), after having seen quite a number of films that deal with street children, juvenile delinquents, kids in trouble (Truffaut's \"The 400 Blows\", Bunuel's \"Los Olvidados\", De Sica's \"Shoeshine\", Nair's \"Salaam, Bombay!\", Bresson's \"Mouchette\", Nugroho's \"Leaf on a Pillow\", etc.), one might be afraid that the plight of the kid portrayed in the film might not affect one anymore, having been \"de-synthesized\" already after going through the emotional roller-coaster ride put in motion by the previously quoted films.
Thankfully, that won't be the case. For Babenco narrates his film in such a matter-of-fact manner (\"artlessly\", as one film reviewer put it, in a positive light) and that his central child performer, Fernando Ramos da Silva (13 years old at that time and a street kid himself), gives such a no-frills, wounded performance, raw in its simplicity (that hardened face, those lonely and longing eyes) that one is hard put not to be pierced in any way. (Such a feeling may achieve such a heightened realism when one learns that the child had only lived but a short life, having been involved in street crimes after the film and subsequently murdered.)
In about first half of the film, Pixote and his fellow street kids and delinquents spend their time in a repressive state-run reformatory school, where brutalization and humiliation, rape and murder, are the norm and culture;where they are forced to confess to their \"crimes\", on the flimsy notion that under the Brazilian law, underage felons are not \"punishable\" for their offenses. For these kids, the dubious freedom offered by the streets is more preferable than the harsh rehabilitation provided by these supposed well-meaning authorities. Within the walls of this supposed protective establishment, these young souls are soon to discover that love and care from parental figures are likewise nowhere to be found, if not to a degree worser.
(For Pixote, the only form of escape comes from puffing grass and sniffing glue, secretly smuggled inside the reformatory.)
When the kids burst themselves into a small-scale \"revolt\" to finally express and then fulfill their collective desire to get back to the outside world--their \"home\"--the intensity and form are of such a kind that one can't avoid thinking of the schoolboys' revolt in Jean Vigo's influential \"Zero for Conduct\". It's only that in \"Pixote\", the \"uprising\" is made to appear on a gutter level.
Once Pixote and his small group are back on the streets (the film's second half), they engage in robbery, pimping and drug-dealing to fend for themselves, along which they get to meet Sueli, a battered but kindly prostitute. Sueli willingly accomodates the four lost souls, in such a way that she allows her customers to be robbed by them and that she provides more than motherly care (at least to one of the children).
One would have thought that the street kids have at long last found the one person who can provide them the love and warmth that have been sorely lacking in their lives. But as dubious as the freedom that these kids believe the streets are providing, this new-found \"maternal figure\" cannot but stay forever.
Jealousy, squabbles, differences, and murder have only set the kids apart--and for good. And during that defining scene where Pixote, prompted by the circumstance, gets to shoot not just Sueli's arrogant American customer but also his fellow street urchin Ditto (more than a son to Sueli), he thereafter literally goes back to \"infancy\", as he sucks from the right breast of the disoriented woman, right there and then materializing his lingering desire for parental affection, the image itself both sad and unsettling.
It is so that Sueli, in a probable coming back to her \"senses\", lamentably pushes back Pixote from his \"nourishing\" position and rejects him, for good. Thus, in a quietly wrenching moment, Pixote, with that young-old face and those sullen eyes (not entirely dissimilar, though in a different context, to the young boy's mien in Elem Klimov's harrowing \"Come and See\"), gets himself up, puts on his coat and takes his gun (yes, a gun!), and sets off to nowhere, walking along the train tracks and with the morning light just beginning to show up. With that scene, Babenco may just be doing an homage (amongst many other homages found in different films!) to the iconoclastic final scene in Truffaut's \"The 400 Blows\".
But whereas we got to know what has become of Antoine Doinel three years later in the short film \"Antoine et Colette\" (as well as in three other feature films in the years thereafter), we are left grappling in the dark as to what lies ahead for Pixote after he finally disappears from the last frame, that being the last time that we'll get to see this real-life street child (notwithstanding the fate that eventually befell him in actuality).
\"Pixote\" may not be as nearly as whimsical as \"The 400 Blows\" or as hallucinatory as \"Los Olvidados\", but it still stands out among films of similar theme and texture because of its simple, raw power.
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