Brazilian Cinema Returns to the BAFTAs – But Old Biases Remain

The movie awards season is just appearing on the horizon. Last week, the Berlin International Film Festival kicked off, followed by Sunday’s British Academy Film Awards (BAFTA). Brazilian cinema made a long-awaited return to the BAFTAs for the first time in over 25 years with I’m Still Here (Walter Salles, 2024). The film was directed by Walter Salles too and starred the daughter of his 1999 muse—widely regarded as the greatest Brazilian actress of all time. Yet, as expected, Brazil left empty-handed. After living here for the past six or seven years, I’ve come to recognize these predictable omissions, always hidden between the lines.

I belong to a generation that grew up in a time of transition—VHS tapes, DVDs, video rental stores—before witnessing the rapid rise of the internet, social media, and streaming services. I’ve seen the gap widen between digital screen dominance and the boundless imagination that once thrived in small apartments, with only a neighbourhood park as an escape.

Screens are a double-edged sword. On one hand, their impact on mental health remains vastly underestimated. On the other, they are my livelihood and my source of comfort—the place I turn to when saudade hits. Saudade is more than just homesickness, longing, or nostalgia. It is an untranslatable word that captures the melancholy of a past that no longer exists—its unique smells, views, sounds, and tastes.

Brazilian cinema holds a special place for me, carrying both beauty and complexity. But the world deserves to appreciate it too. As Bong Joon Ho eloquently stated in his 2020 Oscar acceptance speech, "Once you overcome the one-inch-tall barrier of subtitles, you will be introduced to so many more amazing films."I come from a place where subtitles and dubbing were essential—not just for learning English, but also for exposure to other cultures. Brazil's proximity to Spanish-speaking countries, along with witnessing the rise of the otaku culture with anime (and doramas now), further expanded that awareness. Plus, Brazil itself is a diverse patchwork of cultures.

Yet, moving abroad often feels like a treasure hunt—searching for theatres that showcase films beyond the anglophone sphere. The box office is consistently dominated by British and Hollywood films, yet the UK is also the largest market for Bollywood films outside of India. The industry struggles with a deep imbalance between supply and demand.

But once the bubble bursts, perhaps there will be greater appreciation for cinema beyond the Western gaze. After all, film is not just about what’s on screen—it’s about the audience’s engagement, the carefully curated filters, and the narratives shaped to reinforce familiar worldviews. The more international stories we embrace, the fewer stereotypes and preconceived notions we carry.

At its core, cinema is a shared experience—whether behind the scenes or in the seats. It offers a present moment of escapism; one where socio-economic, geographic and political divisions temporarily dissolve. Yet, it’s worth acknowledging that high-ticket prices and limited accessibility in certain venues only reinforce those same divisions.

The internet, too, gives us a false sense of connection—one shaped by algorithms, echo chambers, and toxic cancel culture. These factors don’t just divide us socially; they create generational gaps that are harder to bridge.

BAFTA’s recognition of Emilia Pérez (Jacques Audiard, 2024) reflects a troubling pattern of cultural elitism. Despite the film’s problematic depiction of transgender identity, Audiard’s xenophobic remarks, and the film’s portrayal of Mexico, it was still celebrated. This reflects a long-standing belief that certain cultural perspectives hold more value than others—a hierarchy deeply rooted in Eurocentrism and xenophobia. In a post-Brexit landscape, immigrants have become even more its scapegoats, yet we remain an invisible force shaping "British" culture. The UK’s most beloved dishes—curry (from India) and fish (from Portugal) n' chips (from Latin America)—are testaments to that.

As screens continue to shape our perception of reality, many remain passive spectators to films that present only one dominant worldview. Despite our individual experiences and perspectives, we still exist within the same society, sharing collective values and beliefs.

Ironically, the United Kingdom has been undergoing cultural vandalism, with street cinemas under threat. It’s a battle between collective local history and generational memories versus the rise of redevelopment—apartment blocks replacing shared cultural spaces, or a jungle of capital where $cience is placed above art. Yet, art remains the antidote of colours—for both creators and onlookers alike.

But if we continue to let cultural elitism and industry gatekeeping dictate what stories are told and who gets to tell them—what perspectives are we missing, and at what cost?