‘Apocalypse in the Tropics’ Review: A Riveting Account of How Evangelism Became a Major Threat to Brazilian Democracy

‘Apocalypse in the Tropics’ Review: A Riveting Account of How Evangelism Became a Major Threat to Brazilian Democracy

As a gamer who has spent countless hours immersed in virtual worlds, I can’t help but draw parallels between my digital adventures and the real-life drama unfolding in Brazil as portrayed in Petra Costa’s film “Apocalypse in the Tropics.” This documentary is like a high-stakes RPG where the stakes are democracy and the characters are powerful, complex individuals.


Petra Costa, a documentarian from Brazil, carries on exploring the precarious condition of democracy in her native land through the revealing documentary “Apocalypse in the Tropics” (“Apocalipse nos Trópicos“), unveiling the concerning connections between Christian evangelism and politics, stretching as high as the top echelons of power.

In her Oscar-nominated film released in 2019 titled The Edge of Democracy, Petra Costa ventures into the intimate lives of influential individuals, documenting them amidst a prolonged period of social and political turmoil that Brazil has experienced for over a decade. This time around, her attention predominantly centers on Silas Malafaia – a renowned televangelist and significant figure within the Assembleias de Deus Pentecostal church, whose influence extends to politicians from both the left and right in a nation where evangelists constitute more than 30% of the population.

As I delved into the world of Tropics, I couldn’t help but draw striking parallels to real-world events, especially in the United States. The game portrays extremist agitators, manipulators of false information, a character reminiscent of Trump-like figures like Jair Bolsonaro, and an explosive climax featuring an assault on the capital by insurrectionists. It’s almost as if I’m living two parallel narratives at once. The resemblance between these fictional events and recent U.S. history is undeniably uncanny.

Yet, Costa delves deeper than just subtle comparisons. She investigates the historical aspects of evangelism to comprehend how its apocalyptic imagery gripped the spirits of numerous Brazilians so profoundly. This exploration offers insights into a global phenomenon, evident not only in Brazil and America, but also in countries where the faith in progress and democracy is being severely tested, as never before.

The captivating aspect of Tropics lies in Costa’s skillful transitions between grandeur and intimacy, the broad perspective and the close-up. Using drones and various equipment, she captures vast gatherings of protesters as if they were actors in a historical play, but then switches to handheld shots to track Bolsonaro, along with the re-elected leftist president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, as they navigate the religious figures compelling them to publicly embrace Christianity.

Breaking her film into sections titled ominously (“The Kingmaker,” “Dominion,” “Genesis”), Costa skillfully reveals how evangelism made its way to Brazil’s coast through figures like Billy Graham and Henry Kissinger, who viewed the growing left-wing shift of the Catholic church in South America as a threat to U.S. interests. The strategy then became “Christ and capitalism,” with fundamentalist pastors pouring into Brazil and establishing new churches throughout the land. By the time we reach the 2022 election, the country boasts over 50 million evangelists, a group that can no longer be disregarded by any political candidate.

During the 2018 presidential election, I found myself cheering on Malafaia, an outspoken figure, who backed Bolsonaro. Bolsonaro, whose wife is known for her evangelical work (as demonstrated by videos of her speaking in tongues), ultimately emerged victorious with Malafaia’s support, propelling the far-right leader to power. It’s unclear if Bolsonaro, who was baptized in the Jordan River to solidify his Christian credentials, genuinely believes or is merely aligning himself with one of the nation’s strongest political forces. Regardless, the people began referring to him as a “messiah,” reflecting both his actual middle name, Messias, and his pledge to rescue Brazil from the perils of corruption, communism, and progressive ideologies.

The campaign against Lula initially led to his false imprisonment for almost two years, but it severely backfired when it was discovered that the prosecutors assigned by President Bolsonaro in the case were actually corrupt themselves. Additionally, President Bolsonaro’s mishandling of the COVID-19 crisis, during which he stated “I’m a messiah, but I don’t do miracles,” while his unprepared country suffered one of the highest death tolls outside the U.S., contributed significantly to Lula’s victory over Bolsonaro four years later in his political comeback.

Despite suffering election defeats, influential evangelical groups with an apocalyptic interpretation of Christianity, rooted in a literal interpretation of the Book of Revelation, view Jesus more as a violent martyr than a symbol of peace and brotherly love. Mirroring the events of Jan. 6, they, along with Bolsonaro’s supporters, invade government buildings in Brasília, targeting the Supreme Court, which they blame for validating their opponent’s victory. Their actions involve damaging windows, destroying statues, and leaving the premises in disarray.

In the opening scenes of Costa’s captivating film, there are archival footage clips in black and white showing Oscar Niemeyer overseeing the construction of Brasília – one of his most significant architectural accomplishments – which dates back to 1960. At that time, Brazil was filled with optimism about its potential as a democratic power in South America. However, following the establishment of a military dictatorship, lasting approximately two decades after the inauguration of Brasília, those dreams were temporarily suppressed.

In the game-world of “Apocalypse in the Tropics,” I found myself once again grappling with the ominous return of violent religious forces. Over the past few decades, their numbers and influence have swelled, becoming a looming threat to our dreams. The defilement of Niemeyer’s historic structures post-2022 elections was both literal and symbolic, a grim reminder of the turbulent times ahead.

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2024-08-29 18:27