IN CONVERSATION WITH MARIANNA BRENNAND

interview by LEANDRO DA SILVA and TIMOTEJ LETONJA
photography by FERNANDO SIPPEL

Marianna Brennand is a Brazilian filmmaker, screenwriter, and documentarian whose debut fiction feature, MANAS, has been acclaimed internationally. Since premiering in Venice, the film has traveled across festivals and countries, sparking conversations, earning awards, and resonating deeply with audiences worldwide. Through MANAS, Brennand emerges as a significant voice within a new wave of Brazilian cinema, bringing sensitivity, strength, and urgency to the global screen.

Manas is political, powerful, and much needed — and it also marks your first feature-length fiction film. Could you tell us how the idea for this story was born, and what moved you to bring it to the screen?

Manas was born from an inner calling. When I first heard about the sexual exploitation of women and very young children along the Tajapuru River, it affected me deeply. As a documentarian, my immediate impulse was: people need to know this is happening. I felt a responsibility to shed light on that reality. Back in 2013, I was in São Paulo for the release of my documentary Francisco Brennand, which explores the life and work of my great-uncle, a Brazilian artist. During that trip, I met for lunch with Fafá de Belém. She is a renowned singer and activist from Pará, Belém. She had just returned from Marajó Island, touched and appalled by what she had seen there. It was during that conversation that she told me about the exploitation happening in the Tajapuru region. That moment changed my life. I walked away knowing I had to act. I brought the story to my producer and co-writer, Catalina Benevides, and together we began to develop the project.

During your research in remote Amazonian villages, you met women who had experienced profound trauma from a very young age, facing abuse at home and sexual exploitation on river barges. How did these encounters influence your research process and the creative choices in the film?

At the beginning of our research, we hadn’t even traveled to Marajó yet. We were still in Rio de Janeiro, searching online, trying to understand what was happening. At that time, almost nothing had been written about the issue, no articles, no studies. Today it has become a widely discussed topic, surrounded by controversy and even misinformation, but back then, information was extremely scarce. Fafá de belém introduced us to irmã  Marie Henriqueta Cavalcante, who also inspires the character of Dira Paes, the police chief Aretha. Sister Henriqueta is, in many ways, a Brazilian heroine. She has been working in remote Amazon regions for over thirty years, protecting women and children from all forms of violence, especially sexual exploitation. Speaking with her, even just over the phone, radically transformed our research process.

How did you approach transforming these real stories into fiction while preserving their truth and emotional impact?

I realized very early that it would be ethically impossible to make this film as a documentary. To do so, I would have had to sit these women and girls in front of a camera and ask them to relive deeply traumatic experiences. When someone revisits that kind of violence, even through words, they experience it again. I could not, and would not, ask that of them. Fiction became the only path forward. By that point, I was already fully committed to telling this story, but I needed to do it in a way that protected the women whose realities inspired it. Fiction allowed me to honor their experiences without exposing them. It also gave me the creative freedom to build complex characters and a narrative that reflects the emotional truth of what happens in these communities.

When you began visiting the communities along the Tajapuru River, how did you approach listening to and understanding the daily lives of the women and children who inspired the film?

After we made the decision to tell this story through fiction, we submitted the project to a Brazilian Development Fund for Screenwriting (Fundo Setorial do Audiovisual), and we won. That financing allowed us to take our first research trip to Marajó Island. When we arrived, Sister Marie Henriqueta and Police Chief Rodrigo, who together inspired the character played by Dira Paes, welcomed us and guided our journey along the Tajapuru River. They took us into the communities and cities where the concentration of sexual exploitation was most severe, and introduced us to social workers, psychologists, and professionals who support these women and girls every day. The film is based on true stories that I've heard from these people. In my traveling through the Tajapuru River and going to the communities, I would talk to kids and to women, but not asking them directly, just to understand their lives, how they lived, how they felt living in that place, how they connected with their family, but not asking them directly about sexual violence.

The title Manas evokes sisterhood and solidarity. How do you expect audiences to respond to this message, and what kind of connection do you hope it creates among women?

I love this question and that you're mentioning the title because we did not translate it exactly because I think Manas is such a powerful world and even though you can translate it to ‘sister’ or to ‘sis’ but it has in Brazil a stronger meaning, like a sorority feeling to it. And I think that's how women in the north of Brazil, in that region, they call each other ‘mana’, and you don't have to be actual sisters, like related in blood. Mana is someone that supports you, that gives you strength, so it has this beautiful sorority, the word of endearment. My hope is that audiences, especially women, feel that connection in the film, that sense of holding each other, of standing together. I want viewers to walk away with the feeling that sisterhood can be a source of power, healing, and transformation. And that even in the face of violence or silence, women can create networks of strength and protection among themselves.

What compelled you to make Manas?

I made Manas because I wanted to give voice to women and girls who would not be heard otherwise, who was silenced every day, everywhere in the world. The way I made the film was in a way that I hope every women and children who see this film will feel seen, heard, understood, respected, and hopefully encouraged to break their silences and come out of this journey transformed.

Working with such a sensitive subject, how did you ensure a safe and respectful environment for the young cast while portraying these realities through fiction?

That was one of my greatest worries. From the beginning, the entire process of Manas was about not bringing more violence into the world. I chose fiction precisely because I refused to expose sexual violence literally on screen, not showing it is a political choice for me as a woman filmmaker. Since the script phase, I focused on creating a warm and safe environment where everyone, especially the children, could work with comfort and care while dealing with such a harsh reality. I knew I wanted a real thirteen years old girl in the role, not an adult actress pretending to be one, so I had to be extremely careful in how I guided her and how to immerse her in the story without making her relive any of the violent experiences the character goes through.

How did you prepare Jamilli Corrêa and the young cast to portray such intense emotional experiences while protecting their well-being?

Everything started in the casting process. We selected a few girls who could potentially play Marcielli, and Jamilli stood out from the very first moment, she is a force of nature and she had never acted before, not even in a school play. We had an amazing preparation for almost two months of the actors just living together, connecting and creating a bond. Jamilli is an urban girl from Belém, not from the river, so we taught her how to swim in the river, to paddle the boat, enter the forest, and all of that created a beautiful connection with the world of the film. To protect the children’s psychological well-being, none of them read the full script. They only received their lines and symbolic emotional cues. Even in scenes that carry heavy meaning, like the hunting scene, Jamilli didn’t know the explicit violence underneath. She knew her character’s overall journey but was never asked to live that trauma. It was a challenge to find a way to understand how to do it. But once we understood, it was really easy with them and the adult cast who is composed of so many amazing experience Brazilian actors The adult cast helped immensely, creating trust and safety. My priority was always to achieve truthful, heartfelt performances without ever making the young cast go through anything harsh on set.

As Manas has traveled the world, what impact did you hope the film would have beyond the screen, and how do you see its global reach today?

Since our premiere in Venice, the impact of Manas has gone far beyond what I ever imagined. The film has connected deeply with audiences, women and men, all over the world. I made this film so that women and girls could feel encouraged to break their silences, but I also believe that fighting sexual violence is a humanitarian issue that concerns all of us.What surprised me most is how universal this violence is. So everywhere in the world that we show the film and it's been more than a year that Manas is traveling throughout festivals and now being released in a few countries. It has been released in the Netherlands now. The film has been shown there as a tool by institutions that fight against violence.

What were the main challenges you faced in bringing such a painful yet necessary story to the screen with both sensitivity and strength?

One of our greatest challenges was understanding how to construct this narrative in a way that felt true, how to make a film that people could genuinely connect with, that would allow them to step inside this girl’s heart and mind and come out transformed at the end. My hope was that if audiences could live and feel what this girl is feeling while she goes through violences that no one should ever experience, they would leave the film wanting to take action, even in small ways, like telling a friend, “You need to see this.” For women, boys, or girls who have gone through any kind of violence, sometimes you don’t even realize you’re living through violence until something helps you recognize it. Sometimes a film clarifies things; sometimes it gives you the courage to talk about it. If people leave the film feeling a little stronger and saying, “I will break my silence,” even if it’s an internal silence, simply understanding what is happening with them, or finding the courage to speak to someone, then we have accomplished something meaningful.

How do you personally see and understand cinema? What does it represent to you as an artist and storyteller?

Cinema is power to change and to create empathy. I think, cinema connects you. It allows you to feel through someone else. And I really believe that we can only really change as society when we have empathy, when we are able to put ourselves in the light of feeling like someone else

Brazilian cinema has been gaining increasing recognition around the world. Do you think audiences and the film industry in Brazil fully recognize its strength and potential?

Yes, I think Brazilian cinema is incredibly strong, and I’m very proud of the films we’ve been making. This year alone, there have been so many powerful and important Brazilian films released, works that represent our culture, our worldview, and our social and political issues with remarkable diversity, strength, and creativity. We have extraordinary filmmakers, actors, and artists in Brazil. I believe that last year, with I’m Still Here, a new portal opened for Brazilian cinema, not only internationally, but within Brazil itself. It brought back a sense of self-esteem for us as a people and as a country. Millions of Brazilians went to the cinema to watch a story that was ours, urgent, meaningful, rooted in our past but also illuminating our present and our future. It reminded us: “Pay attention to what’s happening now, because it has happened before.” I feel that this moment reopened the path for Brazilian cinema to reclaim its strength. And today, with renewed support from the Brazilian government and incentive programs, our industry can continue to grow. This support is essential for us as filmmakers to keep creating films and telling our stories.

How do you see the growing recognition of women in Brazilian cinema, not only directors, but also actresses, writers, and producers, and what does this moment represent for you as part of this growth?

I think we have so many Brazilian women who have always been references for us, like Fernanda Montenegro, for example. She has built a long career in theater, cinema, and television, and she’s truly an icon. Fernanda Montenegro is such an important figure in Brazilian culture and Brazilian cinema; she embodies what we believe in and what we aspire to be. And there are so many Brazilian filmmakers who have inspired my work, like Sandra Kogut, Laís Bodanzky, and Anna Muylaert. Their films have had an immense influence on me.

There are also the new filmmakers, the newcomers, like myself with my first fiction feature, and many others emerging now. Petra Costa, for instance, whose documentary is a contender for the Oscars, Apocalypse in the Tropics, which was released last year in Venice, the same year as I'm Still Here.

I think we, as women, filmmakers, actresses, producers, writers, and editors have always been ready. And I’m really proud to have made a film from a female perspective, telling a story that treats our bodies with respect. For me, that is also a political choice, a political way of existing in this world, in this time, in a society that is still so patriarchal, machista, and misogynistic. It’s extremely important that we put our voices out there, that we are making films, writing films, acting in films, and that these films are being supported, released, and seen around the world. And I’m very proud to be a woman, a filmmaker, a Brazilian filmmaker, in this moment.

What has been the most rewarding or surprising response you've received so far from audiences when they have seen film?

The response to Manas has gone far beyond anything I could have hoped for. The film has taken on a life of its own, transforming and connecting with audiences around the world. It’s an urgent film, and seeing how deeply it resonates has been overwhelming. When Julia Roberts presented the screening in LA, she said, ‘I want to see your faces now, so that I can have a mental picture of your face before and after this film, because when I come here after, you're going to be transformed, this film is going to change your life’ and this is so beautiful. Hearing that from her was incredibly moving. Both she and Sean Penn have called Manas a perfect film and the perfect use of cinema, and their support has opened so many doors for us. We had already been one year of traveling with the film all over the world and it's like as if the film is just blossoming again.Through Sean Penn, we screened at the Lumière Film Festival in Los Angeles, curated by Thierry Frémaux, where so many extraordinary people saw the film. Irène Jacob, whom I’ve admired since The Double Life of Véronique, watched Manas and wrote to me saying she loved it. Saul Zaentz, producer of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, also saw it and called it a masterpiece. Receiving this kind of feedback from people whose work shaped my own is priceless. But what moves me the most is the audience, especially women, who come to me after screenings in countries like Cuba, Spain, Germany, France, and Italy. They hug me and say, “Thank you for making this film. Thank you for your courage and sensitivity. Thank you for not showing the violence graphically, for treating this subject with such respect that I could watch the film and come out transformed.” And they often add, “This doesn’t happen only in Brazil. It happens in my country too.”This is powerful and beautiful, but also heartbreaking, because it shows how universal gender and sexual violence are. It’s rare to find a woman who hasn’t experienced some form of violence in her life. I think the decision to tell this story with respect for women’s and children’s bodies without fetishizing or graphically portraying violence is one of the reasons the film connects so deeply. That sensitivity is at the heart of Manas, and knowing that audiences feel it is the most rewarding part of this journey

We know that Manas is growing all over the word, but we are curious about if you have any upcoming projects, or are there themes and stories you're particularly interested in exploring next?

I’m still very focused on Manas. I do have an idea for a next project, and it will definitely continue to revolve around the feminine and the issues we, as women, face in our everyday lives. But I haven’t had the time to put anything on paper yet because Manas continues to demand my full attention.We’re now entering a new phase of the film’s journey. Starting this second semester and continuing throughout next year, we’ll be working to bring the film to Marajó Island and to communities in Pará, along with social support teams. The goal is to use the film as a tool for dialogue and transformation, which is exactly why we made it: so it could serve social and political change where it’s most needed. I’m also traveling a lot with the film, next week I’ll be in Belém for COP, and then in Los Angeles, Luxembourg, and Madrid, continuing through the awards season. I do have a few ideas for future projects, but for now, Manas is still very much the center of my work and my energy.