Eurydice (Marpessa Dawn) is a young woman who has fled to a working-class region of Rio de Janeiro for reasons that are not immediately made clear. She is going to be staying with her cousin, Serafina (Léa Garcia), who turns out to be the complete antithesis of the shy and reserved Eurydice, living her life as if it is a perpetual carnival (which is only helped by the fact that the annual Brazilian celebration is only a few days away). Upon arrival, Eurydice means Orpheu (Breno Mello), a public transport driver who immediately is enchanted by the mysterious new addition to their community. Orpheu has his own challenges – his girlfriend, Mira (Lourdes de Oliveira), is a controlling, egomaniacal hedonist who is perpetually trying to control him and force him to adhere to her intentions of living a glamorous life – and naturally, Orpheu finds himself drawn more to Eurydice, whose beauty is only matched by her humility, and who presents a very different kind of emotional connection when she interacts with the dashing hero. With the carnival celebrations imminent, Eurydice and her cousin decide that this will be the right time to have some fun, and using Serafina’s costume, Eurydice hides her appearance and immerses herself in the local culture. However, she soon finds out the reason she fled here in the first place continues to persist, even when she is far from her original setting – the embodiment of Death (Adhemar da Silva) has followed her to Rio de Janeiro, and is now excited that he may have the doomed young woman in his clutches. However, it soon becomes clear that Death may not have as easy a time in acquiring her soul as he thought, since Orpheu presents himself as quite a worthy adversary, and he is willing to do whatever he can to save the doomed young woman – but is there any chance of actually changing fate?

One of the most inspiring forms of artistry is when someone takes an older text and reinterprets it in their own specific way, deriving new meanings from a familiar story. This is the basis of Marcel Camus’ incredible Black Orpheus (Portuguese: Orpheu Negro), a daring Brazilian tragedy that manages to be one of the essential attempts to bring classical mythology to the contemporary space. Set in the rural locales of Brazil, the film ventures into the classic story of the titular hero and his doomed lover, with the director finding new ways to convey the message of this timeless story without becoming too heavyhanded with the multitudes of themes that persist throughout. A visual feast, Black Orpheus is a powerful work that plays on each of our senses, with Camus making sure that absolutely every moment of this film – from the glorious opening shot, to the haunting final moments – are presented with an artistic integrity that can only come from someone whose fierce understanding of the form comes through in each frame. Not only a classic of Brazilian filmmaking, but also one of the most important works of its era in terms of both literary adaptations and world cinema, Black Orpheus is an achievement that stands out as some of the most creative filmmaking of its time, and a piece that consistently strives to push the envelope and feature some underlying sense of understanding the human condition through embracing radically different threads of it. It’s a gorgeous film, and one that is easy to become thoroughly invested in, immediately making this one of the most fascinating cinematic experiences of the period, and one that remains relevant as an artistic text to the present day.

Few films have been able to match the dizzying combination of style and substance quite as well as Black Orpheus, which consistently challenges boundaries of the form without becoming too enamoured with its own creativity. Camus was going for something extremely original with this film, and through being inspired by the myth of Orpheus, and transposing it into contemporary (at the time) Brazil, the director was capable of bringing a whole new depth of meaning to what is essentially a highly-influential story that has inspired many other artists to interpret the basic message in their own distinct way. As a result, Black Orpheus is certainly not the definitive glimpse into this story, but it is one of its most accessible, to the point where it serves a dual function, depending on how aware the audience is of the original text. For those with a penchant for mythology, it’s fascinating to see how Camus cleverly takes the ancient legend and weaves it through various cultural factors, the methods with which he tells this story coming across in incredibly entertaining ways. Conversely, for those who may not be particularly knowledgable of the source material, Black Orpheus presents them with a chance to experience this story through an incredibly simple and stunning experience – far too many adaptations of classical mythology made by literary purists tend to be impenetrable and overly-complex, almost as if the intention is to refrain from allowing a pedestrian appreciation of these stories. Black Orpheus actively avoids this through being a delightfully approachable version that doesn’t infantilize the original story, but also doesn’t feel impelled to make it too challenging. There are many merits in what Camus does with this film, but at the most fundamental level, his outright refusal to do anything that could be considered alienating, while still being as riveting and enthralling as any other adaptation, is amongst the finest quality of this magnificent film.

Normally the aspect of Black Orpheus that is most remembered is the visual palette presented to us. Camus had a great control over the cinematic form, to the point where this entire film is almost completely defined by its creativity. Setting this story in Brazil was already a daring choice, and the director didn’t waste any potential, situating the events around the annual celebration of Carnaval do Brasil, which allowed him access to a range of new possibilities on a visual level. This is undeniably one of the most beautifully-made films of the 1950s, where visual splendour abounds with almost frightening intensity – and while we’ve seen many forays into Greek mythology that take advantage of their particular setting to stun viewers with their creativity, very few (if any at all) manage to do it with such sophistication as Black Orpheus. Camus seems to intrinsically understand not only the source material, but the particular customs of the country – and considering he was not Brazilian by birth, his keen knowledge of traditions, and the deft skill in bringing it to the screen, was even more impressive. There are innumerable moments in this film that leave an indelible impression, all the result of a profoundly gifted filmmaker situating himself behind the camera, and weaving together a version of an ancient tale through some of the most gorgeous means available to him. This is certainly not a perfect film, but very few of the problems come through at the style level, since the director implicitly knows that there is some level of restraint needed, and the way he balances both sides of the film, and still finds the time to express his own artistic curiosities through the process of adapting this story.

Camus’ work exists at the perfect intersection between bold visual style, and more subdued narrative exploration of some incredibly resonant themes. Taking influence from the classic Greek myth, and using it as a launching pad for a sumptuous, fascinating journey into the roots of twentieth-century Brazilian society, Camus manages to create a hypnotic, transfixing glimpse into a particular faction of our world that isn’t often represented with such incredible elegance and sophistication. It’s a stunning work, and one of the most striking representations of the culture at the core of the story – the copious amount of colour and chaos that Camus compounds into each compositional frame is staggering, and the combination of visual panache and deeply motivating existential issues makes for truly riveting viewing that goes in a number of fascinating directions, and always keeps the viewer on the edge of their seat. It’s not a particularly complex work – if anything, Black Orpheus finds its most significant merits in how it presents everything in such a simple, matter-of-fact manner, which contrasts directly with the splendour brought to the story by a director who prioritized both sides of this myth in relaying it to modern audiences. Fresh, invigorating and mesmerizing, Black Orpheus is a wonderfully layered film that is unlike anything we’re likely to see, and is worth watching precisely for its unique, idiosyncratic approach to familiar material.