Give Thanks, Do Crime

About five minutes into the 1984 Brazilian film Quilombo, I thought, “This might be one of the greatest movies I've ever seen,” and that impression held up for the rest of the two-hour runtime. If you're sick of watching powerful people cave to other powerful people, here's your palate cleanser. If you're wondering how to observe an upcoming holiday that's tied to colonialism and oppression but also food, here’s one great option. It's on YouTube with English subtitles (much gratitude to an account called “Argentine Cinema with English subtitles” for mistaking the country of origin). Watch it. Right now. Or right after you read this newsletter! Spoilers will not diminish your enjoyment!

From the very start of the opening credits, the energy is excellent. The soundtrack is a total bop. I was braced for haunting instrumentals and instead got Gilberto Gil’s one-of-a-kind blend of rock, samba, reggae, and afrofusion.

Sidenote: Gil is a Black Brazilian singer-songwriter and former minister of culture whose biography is almost as interesting as this movie! But I digress already!

It’s 1650. The Portuguese and the Dutch are fighting for control of Brazil. Both nations have a business model that relies on enslaving people of African descent to do grueling unpaid labor on sugar plantations, so we’re not rooting for either of them.

We open with a very brief scene of brutality inflicted on an enslaved person, but there’s a wryness to it that’s basically making fun of anybody who isn’t already up to speed on the fundamental truth of “slavery = bad.” A Portuguese plantation owner’s wife has her torture demo interrupted by news that a Dutch officer is paying a visit, so she rushes off to deal with this unexpected suspension of hostilities. Meanwhile she sends an enslaved pregnant woman, Gongoba (Regina Rocha), to retrieve the planters’ small AWOL son, André, who's preoccupied with abusing his own enslaved attendant, Gongoba’s elderly 4’11’’ dad (Grande Otelo).

Smash cut to the fields, where new arrival Abiola (actor/singer Tony Tornado¹ ) is casually taking out the overseer. Another guy goes I know you just got here but don’t you realize how much trouble we’ll be in now? and Abiola’s like Whatever, I couldn’t let him keep whaling on that old guy. Also, now that I think about it, why don’t we all just team up and jump the rest of the white people on this plantation?

Smash cut to them jumping the white people! The plantation owner and the visiting Dutch soldiers are dispatched within literal seconds. The Dutch commanding officer hollers, “You can’t do this to me!” right before getting bashed over the head. The planter calls for a conspicuously poised enslaved woman, Dandara (Zezé Motta), to bring him his sword. She brings it, all right—straight to his gut. Our team spares only André, the kid, so that he'll survive to tell others what the “find out” stage of an enslaver’s FAFO journey looks like.

With that out of the way, our team liberates the Dutch troops’ prisoners. They’ve been captured from a settlement—or quilombo—of fugitive Black people called Palmares, named after the region’s signature trees and led by the mysterious priestess Acotirene. Our team decides to head there. SIX MINUTES HAVE PASSED. This movie’s pacing is incredible.

Along the way, Gongoba gives birth to a baby boy while surrounded by supportive guys who keep a steady beat for her contractions. There’s an “it takes a village” mindset from the get-go.

At Palmares, Abiola meets Acotirene and tells the elderly leader she needs to get with the program: As soon as the Dutch-Portuguese war ends, he warns, white people will turn their attention to crushing Palmares, unless Palmares builds up enough strength to deter them.

Acotirene takes a liking to the cut of Abiola’s jib and declares…

• You’re right.

• It’s time for me to disappear into the forest.

• TWIST: You’re in charge now.

• P.S. Your new name is Ganga Zumba. (That’s a Kongo term for a spiritual leader.)

Abiola’s like Whaaaaat are you sure?? But Acotirene has already disappeared!! Smash cut to the forest, where she’s riding on her executive assistant’s back, Luke-and-Yoda-style, and fading into the mist! Abiola, aka Ganga Zumba, goes Okie doke, guess I’d better lean into this, and does a very fun dance to confirm his new leadership role.

FIVE YEARS LATER. WE ARE FIFTEEN MINUTES INTO THIS MOVIE. I love it so much.

Palmares is looking pretty dang utopian. Gongoba cheerfully leads some tween boys in song as they get ready to sow some crops. Her dad is teaching little kids about natural remedies. Her son, now kindergarten-aged, is adorable.

But of course, some colonizers show up and try to ruin it. Four Portuguese dudes stumble upon this cluster of unarmed Black youths and go Payday! Their attempt to take hostages starts out as a flop. The kids fully clown on them, disarming them in goofy ways and turning cartwheels while they’re at it. But—unwelcome TWIST—one colonizer manages to scoop up Gongoba’s son, fatally stabbing Gongoba in the process. Not cool! Everyone’s devastated! We’ve gotta get this kid back!!!

Right after our colonial freelancer sells the kid to a Portuguese priest, a Portuguese officer shows up going Hey, I’m gonna conquer Palmares to pad my resume. Anybody wanna help? Gets you a clean slate on your criminal record. Freelancer signs up.

En route, the strike force is enveloped by fog and distracted by fruit (actual quote: “Pineapple!!!”) until they’re stealth-attacked by Team Palmares, led by Dandara. Freelancer dies via a trip-wire that releases an arrow into his chest. His last words are “Your war doesn’t concern me! I’m from Bahia.” Should’ve thought about that before you decided to become a human trafficker, creep! PSA FOR ICE AGENTS:

• QUIT

• YOUR

• JOBS.

Ganga Zumba shows up dressed to the nines and dance-fights his way through the fray. He vows that the boy will eventually be returned to Palmares.

FIFTEEN YEARS LATER.

It’s the 1660s, a comet’s passing overhead, and the music’s still upbeat and groovy as all-get-out.

Gongoba’s son (Antônio Pompêo), has grown up in the priest’s service, but he’s not jazzed about it. He runs away, stealing a few provisions but leaving a crucifix behind. YES. He sprints through the wilderness toward Palmares. YESSS.

He evades some slave catchers by hiding in a tree, after which he chows down on some breadfruit he finds up there. YESSSSS. Nature provides! The fruit tastes better the closer you get to freedom!

Eventually (i.e. within three minutes of screentime) he reaches Palmares, where everyone’s living their best lives—singing, dancing, and wearing colorful outfits. He’s welcomed back by the whole settlement, including Ganga Zumba; Ganga Zumba’s too-young-for-him girlfriend Namba; a childhood friend, Acaiuba (Antônio Pitanga); and Dandara, who has aged zero days and remains a fashion icon as well as a military one.

Sidenote: If this seems like a lot of characters to keep track of, just know there are even more I’m leaving out! I watched this movie 2.5 times and still didn’t catch everybody’s name. People tend to abruptly disappear from the narrative, like Gongoba’s dad and a chill white guy who tags along on our team’s inaugural trip to Palmares. Others pop up later with minimal explanation. The beauty of a multigenerational community saga!

Palmares is thriving. This club has everything: goats, bananas, great music, cartwheeling youths, teamwork, and a wise leader in Ganga Zumba. We know he’s wise because he settles a dispute over corn ownership (understandable; it’s corn!) by saying, “I never heard anyone say ‘my piece of wind’ or ‘my piece of cloud’… Since the land belongs to no one, whatever it produces belongs to everyone.” That’s almost a good enough line for me to give him a pass on his age-gap relationship.

Soon afterward some Portuguese folks show up to cut a deal with Ganga Zumba. Their leader is Captain Carrilho, a military diva with a wig so ridiculous and a personality so campy that Hugh Grant would immediately accept the role today. He’s been paid by some plantation owners to destroy Palmares but offers to simply pretend he’s razed the settlement, plus funnel our team some weapons, in exchange for a little cash. Guy’s obviously shady but seems kinda fun, so Team Palmares agrees. They also get rental applications from several of Carrilho’s companions, who, when asked what skills they would bring to Palmares, have A+ answers.

• One guy says he can bake bread (I’m listening)

• One guy knows Homer in the original Greek (I’ve stopped listening)

• One guy can do sleight of hand, demonstrated by pulling hard-boiled eggs out from under people’s chins (astoundingly, the second appearance of hard-boiled eggs in this newsletter!)

• a lady named Ana knows how to speak up for herself, so Ganga Zumba instantly onboards her as an advisor (she’s the only one we ever see again)

Sidenote: Historically, quilombos were multicultural, and the movie reflects that in Ganga Zumba’s willingness to make space for practically anyone. Since Brazil is “a land where everybody is foreign” except the Indigenous population, he figures it’s best to keep an open mind. This mostly works well, but pro tip / spoiler, if your tent is big enough for the king of Portugal it’s probably gotten too big.

Carrilho meets with his clients and goes All set, I totally ransacked Palmares; money please. The plantation owners are like Uhh we’re gonna check that out to confirm. They instantly run into Dandara, Gongoba’s son, and Acaiuba, who calls a friendly greeting to Carrilho. Hoping to avoid exposure as a double agent, Carrilho fatally shoots Acaiuba, though he lets Dandara and Gongoba’s son escape. Despite his cover-up attempt, the plantation owners figure out Carrilho is playing both sides of the aisle and conduct a citizens’ arrest. Shame he’s in the wrong South American country to encounter Paddington’s ancestors in prison.

Back at Palmares, Gongoba’s son volunteers to avenge Acaiuba. Ganga Zumba performs a ritual to prep him, announcing, “You are no longer anyone! You are your people…. You are Zumbi, who never dies.” (This is a Kongo term for a deity or spirit and shares linguistic roots with “zombie.”)

Smash cut to Zumbi crushing it as a military leader. He’s spearing people. He’s burning settlements. He’s freeing enslaved folks. The soundtrack continues to make amazing choices that only could’ve happened in the eighties.

Zumbi briefly returns to his enslaver-priest’s church, where Padre goes You forgot to take your crucifix when you left. Zumbi says, “I didn’t forget. It just wasn’t any use to me.” But now he reflects that he could use it as a stabby object and reconsiders. lol. Classic lapsed-Catholic behavior.

Zumbi’s forces approach a major city, Recife. But instead of attacking, Zumbi reflects, “If I get to Recife, even as a conqueror, I will have to do what they do…. We’ll end up with slaves, like them.” So Team Palmares heads home.

TWIST: The Portuguese governor writes to Ganga Zumba “on behalf of the king,” asking him to enter peace negotiations. Ganga Zumba is game, hoping a treaty will buy Palmares time to build up more strength. He and Ana head to Recife to negotiate.

The deal:

• Everyone currently living in Palmares can remain free if they move to a region called Cucaú.

• If they ever leave Cucaú they’ll be reenslaved.

• They can’t accept any additional refugees and must extradite new arrivals to the Portuguese.

Ana futilely warns Ganga Zumba, “If you give way now, you’ll always give way.” Whooo boy, it’s so topical it stings my face.

Back home, Dandara is TICKED about these terms. She and Ganga Zumba publicly debate the treaty’s merits. He reminds everyone that the white people have them outgunned and outmanned.² “Even so,” insists Dandara, “Palmares is still here.”

That’s when Zumbi walks in carrying Acaiuba’s (wrapped-up) body, the ultimate power move doctors don’t want you to know about, and declares, “This is what happens when you become friends with the enemy… Their happiness depends on our enslavement.”

“The king promised us freedom,” someone ventures.

Zumbi retorts: “THE KING CANNOT GIVE ME WHAT IS MINE.”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

They take a vote. A bunch of people opt to stand their ground in Palmares rather than relocate. Ganga Zumba leads the rest to Cucaú.

They’re met by a Portuguese soldier who’s extremely peeved that Team Zumbi stayed behind. “You’d better convince Zumbi to come, because if he doesn’t, there can be no peace.” This soldier, by the way? Turns out to be (TWIST) André, the kid who was left alive at the plantation all those years ago. At the exact moment André calls them “amigos” in an unmistakably sinister tone, Ganga Zumba realizes two things:

1. I don’t have the juice anymore (unlike corn)

2. We gotta GTFO of here

But Ganga Zumba’s second-in-command doesn’t want to go back, insisting the white people are trustworthy (sir! really?). So Ganga Zumba decides to change this guy’s mind in the most dramatic way possible. He drinks poison and has Ana assemble Team Ganga Zumba to watch him die. Ana publicly accuses André of being the poisoner and stabs that loser. Ganga Zumba’s VP sees through this WILD bit of theater but still agrees to honor Ganga Zumba’s final wish: “Take the people back to Palmares.”

Namba and Ana stay with Ganga Zumba’s body, Namba singing as rain falls. I regret to report I have no idea what happens to the guy who can make hard-boiled eggs appear out of thin air.

ELEVEN YEARS LATER!!!

It’s 1694. A gray-haired Dandara presides over a grimmer, more subdued Palmares, pep-talking herself: “Zumbi is stronger than everything. With him Palmares will last forever.”

Welp. I have good news and bad news.

The bad news: The Portuguese attack Palmares. This time they’ve got cannons and a military leader who wasn’t sourced from the Fox newsroom. Zumbi refuses to back down despite a frustrating vision of Acotirene (“Palmares will never end,” she assures him, without taking follow-up questions).

Team Palmares makes their last stand, incorporating their greatest hits:

• ingenious booby traps

• magnificent fight choreography

• borderline-supernatural fog

• friends vowing to stand together till death (only for two thirds of them to immediately—and I mean so immediately it’s gotta be intentionally comical—bite the dust)

• a vision of Ganga Zumba, reassuring a literally embattled Zumbi that Palmares will endure

Dandara, cornered by enemy troops, calmly steps off a cliff—free and fabulously dressed until the end. Zumbi escapes with an endearing tween boy, Camuanga. He sends Camuanga up into a tree to get some breadfruit, so the kid is unharmed when Portuguese soldiers rock up and unload an AR-15’s worth of ammunition into Zumbi. Before dying, Zumbi flings his spear into the heavens, returning it to the spirits who’ve guided him, “so it won’t fall into enemy hands.”

Which finally brings me to the THE GOOD NEWS: Camuanga (saved by fruit!!) becomes the next leader of the quilombo’s people, whom the Portuguese struggle to subdue for at least another century. And tomorrow, November 20, is Brazil’s national Black Consciousness Day, commemorating the anniversary of Zumbi’s death and the enduring power of quilombos like Palmares.³

Plot, pacing, and structure: 5. Absolutely breakneck pace, incredible twists, unexpected humor, resonant plot arcs. Director Carlos Diegues (1940-2025, rip) and his two cowriters prove that white guys sometimes can be trusted to not ruin something.

Characters: 5. Compelling protagonists, appropriately cartoonish villains. Ganga Zumba, Zumbi, Dandara, Camuanga, and several others were real people! (Albeit with different relationships to one another; Zumbi was Ganga Zumba’s nephew, Dandara was Zumbi’s wife, etc.)

Historical accuracy: 3. While the costumes and music are very much of the eighties (complimentary!!!), key events are fairly accurate. Quilombo dos Palmares was formed by 40 Black fugitives in 1605, eventually growing into a community of more than 10,000 people. Ganga Zumba (c. 1630-1678) did lead Palmares, accept a peace treaty with the Portuguese, and die by poisoning. Zumbi (c. 1655-November 20, 1695) was born free, got kidnapped and sold to a Portuguese priest as a small child, escaped as a youth, became a superstar warrior, challenged Ganga Zumba’s leadership after the 1678 Portuguese treaty, and led Palmares until it fell to a 42-day Portuguese bombardment in 1694—the colonizers’ lucky SEVENTH try at Operation Demolish Palmares since 1680. Dandara (c. 1654-1694) really was a warrior and community leader who opposed the treaty and went out on her own terms rather than be reenslaved.

Themes: 5. In “a land where everybody is foreign,” diversity and solidarity are strength. What belongs to the earth belongs to everyone. THE KING CANNOT GIVE YOU WHAT IS YOURS. Palmares—in memory and in aspiration—will last forever. What could be more beautiful than that… besides corn?

1  Tony Tornado (not his birth name) has a son named Lincoln Tornado. I just thought you should know this.

2  Don’t start quoting Hamilton don’t start quoting Hamilton nobody needs this from you right now don’t do it

3  In the absence of a direct quote from any of the heroes of Palmares, I’ll leave you with the words of a Union soldier in the US Civil War, words any ally can aim to live by: “I’ll fight till hell freezes over and then I’ll cut the ice and fight on.” Sounds like a plan.