‘The Falling Sky’ Review: Documentary Combats Erasure of Native Culture in Amazon Through Filmmaking
Eryk Rocha and Gabriela Carneiro’s “The Falling Sky” begins with a long steady shot of a large group of the Yanomami — one of Brazil’s largest native people — walking toward the camera. As they slowly enter focus, we have plenty of breathing room to notice small, but revealing details. Our glance eventually turns towards elements one might not expect to see in this environment. Mixed with bows, arrows, and facepaint are a knockoff Gucci shirt, a soccer jersey, and (of course) a smartphone. These sights foreshadow what will become abundantly clear in the following minutes, there is a cultural invasion afoot, and if we believe the Yanomami mythology, this might lead us to a doomsday scenario.
The Directors’ Fortnight doc follows the Yanomami people as they come together to perform the reahu, a ritual practice to honor a recently deceased shaman. According to this custom, they must erase every single trace of his, be it crops, traps, or whatever else, and only then will the tribe be allowed to mourn and cry, effectively declaring the closure of that life. But it is another act of erasure that provides the film with its angry, righteous energy. And this one, fueled by the constant and violent deforestation efforts led by gold diggers and farmers, seems to have no end in sight.
“The Falling Sky” takes its title from a 21st century landmark book that consists of thoughtful, intriguing conversations between anthropologist Bruce Albert and the Yanomami shaman Davi Kopenawa, who returns as the movie’s quasi-protagonist. This is, however, not so much a work of adaptation but rather, for good and ill, a companion piece that captures the often apocalyptic teachings he preaches with lyrical visuals and a patient flow. In the Yanomami culture, the titular falling of the sky has already happened once, and it is the shaman’s sacred duty to prevent it from taking place again. To do so, they must ensure this endangered way of life is not completely wiped from the jungles of the Amazon. If the Yanomami go, Kopenawa alerts, so does everything.
Such belief would be poetic if not for how tragically topical it is. There actually is devastation afoot, and when the trees are uprooted and nature is infested with the white man’s greed, the Yanomamis’ shouts of armageddon sound eerily prescient. They believe preservation is the key, and Rocha and Carneiro take part in this by shooting their dances, songs, cooking, and play with thoughtful care, taking their time in showcasing and recording the Yanomami way in these and other areas of life, slowly immersing us in a trance-like state. But the so-called modern world is always around the corner, and scenes such as Kopenawa’s conversations, via radio, with distant relatives are a reminder of the incoming harm. Particularly heartbreaking are reports of Yanomami that have turned their back on their brothers and sisters in the name of money. In Kopenawa’s view, the white world is a huge market, where everything is for sale and anyone can be bought.
It’s hard to disagree, but if “The Falling Sky” convinces us of this, it’s due to fiery testimonials such as the shaman’s. The film never actually shows us the destruction caused by man, or deals with the tension of there being Yanomami who have left the old ways behind. It seeks to register, not investigate, including when it comes to the people it chronicles. If the book was praised for the depth with which it painted the Yanomami culture, then the documentary — filled with footage that is intimate but not revealing and interviews that rarely widen the scope — feels like a beautiful and yet distant look at how these practices unfold, never quite matching the urgency embedded in Kopenawa’s sermons.
Perhaps that explains why, towards the end, Rocha and Carneiro feel the need to directly connect the apocalypse suggested by the Yanomami’s faith with real images of disasters, both natural and man-made. In a nightmarish and somewhat tacked on black-and-white montage, their warnings are made real as we watch buildings and icebergs collapse. Albeit intense, the moment’s immediate impact, however present, feels constructed and not quite earned.
Much more effective is an earlier scene when a Yanomami elder confronts the directors, themselves outsiders, and asks them on whose side they are. When push comes to shove, will they be allies? Will they help safeguard this culture? Why are they making this movie? Rocha and Carneiro don’t leverage this contradiction to the film’s benefit, but “The Falling Sky” is also an answer in itself. Before such a provocation, they see cinema’s power of transforming recordings into history as a way to push against this cultural genocide.
“The Falling Sky” tells us that the door to the spiritual world of the Yanomami lies in their dreams. These reveries allow them to “see more” and “see further.” Rocha and Carneiro might not equal their subjects when it comes to image-making, but their movie does provide a way for these fantasies to, hopefully, outlive those who seek to wipe them out.
Grade: B-
“The Falling Sky” premiered at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival. It is currently seeking U.S. distribution.
