Lua-de-Mel: A Quaint Trip Back, If You're Up For It

So, is Lua-de-Mel worth digging up today? Probably not for everyone, let’s be honest. If you’re into scratching around in the archives, finding those dusty old films that give you a peek into how movies *used* to be, then yeah, this one’s a little gem. But if you’re looking for anything fast-paced or even, you know, _modern_, you’ll likely find yourself checking your watch quite a bit. This is definitely for the patient, the curious, and anyone who appreciates the sheer effort of early cinema.

This film by Luiz de Barros, it’s a time capsule. You watch it and you can practically smell the projector oil. It follows a young couple, our newlyweds, played by Genésio Arruda and Aurora Fúlgida, as they navigate the early days of married life.

Right from the start, there’s this grand, almost theatrical staging. The sets feel like painted backdrops, which, of course, they probably were. That wide shot of them waving goodbye from the train station, it holds for just a *touch* too long, almost daring you to find an extra moving.

Genésio Arruda, as the new husband, has this particular brand of earnest enthusiasm. He’s all wide eyes and exaggerated gestures, like he’s playing to the back row of a very large theater. There’s a scene where he tries to fix a leaky faucet, and his frustration is just… *so big* you can’t help but chuckle. It’s charming, if a bit much.

Aurora Fúlgida, his counterpart, often feels a little more grounded, in comparison. She has this way of looking at him, a slight roll of the eyes that feels surprisingly modern, even through all the old film grain. It makes you think, ah, some things never change. 🙄

The pacing, for sure, is something to get used to. Moments stretch out. A simple misunderstanding about a lost hat becomes an elaborate sequence of frantic searching and misdirection. You can almost feel the film trying to convince you this moment *really* matters.

One part that stuck with me was a segment involving a rickety boat trip. The water looks so clearly like a studio tank. And the way Vicenzo Caiaffa, playing some kind of bumbling boatman, keeps missing his lines, or rather, his *cues* for physical comedy. It’s a bit endearing, a bit clunky.

There are these little bursts of inventive camera work, though. A quick pan to show a reaction, or a slightly unusual angle when they’re having a picnic in the park. It reminds you that even back then, filmmakers were experimenting, trying new things with what they had.

And Tom Bill’s character, a grumpy innkeeper, provides some much-needed low-key humor. His reactions are often just a scowl and a slow shake of the head. It’s a nice contrast to the more over-the-top acting elsewhere.

It’s easy to poke fun at the dated aspects. The special effects, when they appear, are definitely of their time. There’s a sequence with a mischievous monkey that looks like it was filmed in someone’s backyard. But that’s part of the fun, isn’t it? It’s part of the film’s unique flavor.

What Lua-de-Mel really excels at, surprisingly, is capturing a certain innocence. The simple joys and minor frustrations of a new couple. It's not trying to be a grand epic; it’s a small, personal story.

So, should you watch it? If you have a soft spot for film history, for seeing how narrative and character were expressed before sound, before color, before all the bells and whistles, then absolutely. It’s a fascinating, if sometimes slow, journey. If you’re just looking for entertainment, well, there are probably easier options out there. But you’d miss out on a curious piece of cinema. ✨

Little things I noticed:

• That one very fake-looking tree in the background of almost every outdoor shot.
• The way Genésio Arruda’s tie seems to get progressively more crooked as the film goes on.
• A cat that just wanders into frame in one scene, completely oblivious to the actors.
• The music, when it's there, is just *so* dramatic for even the smallest events.
• Someone in the background of the market scene clearly looking straight at the camera. Oops.