SXSW Review Raquel 1:1- A Solid Film Delivers On An Intriguing Premise

Hunan monstrosity is always scarier than any demons or ghosts. This is never more true than in Mariana Bastos’ Raquel 1:1.

The transgressive Brazil film Raquel 1:1 showing at SXSW is a female-centric story that speaks in hushed but powerful metaphors. There is a disgusting amount of misogyny and a disposal attitude towards women in Brazil. Mariana Bastos shines a scathing light on it. She is not staying quiet, just as her heroine isn’t either. Her first solo film, written and directed by her, is about faith, comfort, hypocrisy, and what it means to be a woman.

Raquel is a teenage girl who has moved to a small town with her father after her mother’s traumatic and violent death. The profoundly religious and quiet young woman is grieving. She is haunted by her mother’s death which we see play out over the course of the movie. At first, she makes new friends quickly and joins the youth group, but those relationships are strained when she begins questioning the church’s view on women. What initially is an exploration of her past and her beliefs becomes something much deeper and ultimately disastrous when she starts rewriting the bible based on messages she thinks she is getting from God.

A cluster of young women is drawn to the truths she tells. They are enthralled with the allure of another reality, one in which women are treated fairly and not abused and belittled. Unfortunately, the establishment views her as dangerous. A little knowledge and rebellion can be deadly if you are part of the dogma. It isn’t just the men who are threatened by Raquel’s teaching, though.

Like Serena and Aunt Lydia in The Handmaid’s Tale, there are those who want to maintain the status quo because it works for them. Raquel 1:1 makes the argument that men who abuse are bad, but women are even worse because they should know better and try harder. Queen Bee Ana Helena and her malicious mother embrace their limited power with the zealous fervor of the deeply insecure. Their viciousness is only fully revealed when Raquel’s beliefs begin turning girls away from her sway.

Raquel, Valentina Herszage, in a star-making turn, is believable as she navigates her pain and the rigid mistreatment of women. There is a subtle believability to her performance that rings true. As Raquel becomes more committed to her new spirituality, she could easily have made bigger choices that would not have been as successful. Herszage’s Raquel feels like a real girl desperately trying to find her way out of the darkness instead of someone on a self-destructive mission.

You might think Raquel 1:1 is a straightforward indictment of misogyny and the Judeo Christain bible, but the film takes an interesting turn towards the supernatural. It leans hard into the idea that people are monstrous, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something unknowable going on. Often controlling groups use guilt, shame, dogma, and mob mentality to influence the masses. A literal witch hunt ensues when the town realizes what Raquel and her group are doing. Passive-aggressive slights turn into acts of violence that leave everyone reeling as the bigger questions of what Raquel is takes shape.

All of it is done under the guise of protecting the congregation from Raquel. Piousness is wicked. Just ask Midnight Mass, for whom it literally destroyed an entire town. That’s the problem with good versus evil, us versus them. No one is entirely black or white, no matter what they think. It drives wedges in communities and endangers us all when we fail to listen to others’ opinions and concerns. Is she possessed? Is she a witch? The truth lies in a reality where she is a silenced young girl dealing with too much grief and with too little support in a country that doesn’t care. The truth might also just be that there is something special about Raquel, and a guiding force is communicating with her.

Trauma leaves a mark, whether physical, emotional, or mental. We remember the pain, and it informs all of our decisions after. Raquel’s father just wants to fix her. It isn’t that he doesn’t love her. He just is overwhelmed himself. She finds solace in this group of girls who choose to follow her. These women find something in the comfort of each other that they don’t have in women who need to hold onto their power and men who discard and disable them until they are nothing but disposable commodities.

There is also a subtle sexual undercurrent between the girls that isn’t fully probed but left to lie in the open like ripe fruit. Raquel and her friend Laura especially evoke a tender need that I wish could have been explored. As it is, their want fills some of the later scenes with a sweet yearning that makes the fiery final act even more impactful.

Visually there are a lot of clues about who or what Raquel is becoming. Biblical gatherings of women who look suspiciously like Mary Magdalene and other feminine guides adorn lush shots of heavily wooded areas and decrepit, abandoned buildings. Bastos knows how to shoot a pretty film that delivers on thoughtful dread.

Although the final act is a little clunky after such an intricately built setup, Herszage’s performance and the intriguing ideas are enough to save it from completely going off of the deep end. Sure the resolution seems ripped from classics like Carrie, but the unique concept of feminist Christianity is an exciting one. As a first solo film, Raquel 1:1 shows promise. Bastos has some great ideas and instincts that could spell great things for her future.

Raquel 1:1 shows where fear begins and faith ends. Are women sick or just sick of it? The ambiguous ending leaves plenty of room for interpretation. However, it feels more like female empowerment by way of possession than exploitist mansplaining. It is premiered at SXSW this week. Find all our coverage here.