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| Images courtesy of Fantomas |
Sometime in 1954, maverick American director Samuel Fuller
the man behind such searing genre classics as The Steel Helmet and Fixed
Bayonets began location scouting in Brazilian villages for what was shaping
up to be his next project: an adventure film called Tigrero (or jaguar
hunter). Based on the novel by Latvian
born Sasha Siemel and produced by Fox head Darryl F. Zanuck, the film would’ve
followed Ava Gardner and Tyrone Power as a couple trying to escape a jungle
with the help of the titular Tigrero played by John Wayne. During Fuller’s sojourn to the Karajá Indians’
village and armed with a 16mm camera, Fuller captured indelible footage of
ceremonial gatherings and rites performed by the natives who all but accepted
Fuller into their wing and granted the director full access to shooting in
their village. However, insurers were
fearful of placing big stars in the jungle after the horror stories following
John Huston’s 1951 The African Queen so the project was ultimately
cancelled.
Following Fuller’s sneaky incorporation of bits of the
footage from the Karajá Indians’ village into snippets of Shock Corridor
(color footage against a black-and-white movie), Mika Kaurismäki the older brother
of Finnish director Aki Kaurismäki settled in Rio de Janeiro and began directing
a number of Brazilian themed films. One
of them turned out to be a documentary (with occasional bits of mockumentary
thrown in for fun) based on the unrealized Tigrero film which didn’t
produce a film but did engender a strong kinship between the director Samuel
Fuller and the Karajá Indians. Joining
forces with the now aged Samuel Fuller and director Jim Jarmusch who both
interviews Fuller and serves as minor Fishing with John (which Jarmusch
also starred in) fish-out-of-water comic relief. Some of it is charmingly amusing but mostly Tigrero:
A Film That Was Never Made is a transcendent journey back inward as Fuller
reunites with the villagers and shows them the developed footage shot in 1954
for the very first time.
A bit like the aforementioned John Lurie show with some
occasional deadpan snark but largely an intimate confessional and series of
tall tales told by Fuller, Kaurismäki’s affectionate and fond documentary piece
speaks volumes to the power of cinema being brought into places where it has
never existed before. Take for instance
an ethereal and moving sequence beyond words of Fuller screening the 16mm
footage to the villagers for the first time, many of whom have never seen a
film before. As the footage fluctuates
in and out of slow motion, edited by Kaurismäki himself, as composers Chuck Jonkey
and Down by Law star Nano Vasconcelos’ ethereal score radiates across
the speakers, it becomes a brief expression of pure cinema before the reactions
of the villagers follow after which are impassioned and deeply moved, including
one remarking how the film resurrected one of his dead close friends. Though the intended film never came to
fruition, the experience of the Karajá Indians’ village is clearly cherished by
Fuller who has much to say about how much people and the way of life has
changed since his time spent there in 1954.
For Samuel Fuller fans, Tigrero is a gold mine of
amusing anecdotes and tall tales speaking to the compassion and the
fearlessness in the director’s blood.
Jim Jarmusch’s presence as a sort of host/mediator is enjoyable but
mostly this is Fuller’s show. As the
film warms up to him, the fearsome aura around him begins to melt away and you
come to know him almost like a neighbor.
Speaking volumes to the intersection between art and life and how it
binds lives together, Tigrero is kind of a wonderful little clandestine
gem for cinephiles and documentary fans.
Though the DVD is long out of print from Fantomas, I wholeheartedly
recommend seeking this charming venture out, a rumination on an unrealized
project that nevertheless brought some light and warmth into worlds rarely seen
either by ourselves or by the villagers and a loving tribute to one of cinema’s
most underrated American artists.
--Andrew Kotwicki
