Araby proves that titles can be deceiving
Thursday, February 19, 2026
With a title like “Araby” (original title Arábia), you might expect a film hailing from the Middle East. Yet this is actually a Brazilian drama co-directed by João Dumans and Affonso Uchoa, which premiered at the International Film Festival Rotterdam in February 2017 (before receiving wider release in 2018). Set in an industrial town in Brazil, the picture begins with a teenager named Andre, played by Murilo Caliari, who is asked to collect the belongings of an injured factory worker, Cristiano, portrayed by Aristides de Sousa. After discovering Cristiano’s handwritten notebook, the narrative shifts into a reflective, memory-driven account of Cristiano’s life over the previous decade, tracing his travels across Brazil, his struggle with poverty and unstable work, fleeting relationships, and his search for dignity and purpose. Along the way, the film introduces characters such as Ana (Renata Cabral) and Renan (Renan Rovida), creating a layered, humanist portrait of working-class life that unfolds as a story within a story.
Interestingly, the proper story doesn’t even begin until 22 minutes into the film, which is when the title credits appear and the point when the narrative shifts from the adolescent Andre to Cristiano, whose diary Andre discovers and reads. It’s a curious way to open the movie, leading to expectations that Andre is the main character, which he is not. Consider, as well, that the picture starts with an American song, “I’ll Be Here In The Morning,” by Townes Van Zandt, a puzzling choice for a film set in Brazil. The title of the film is also peculiar, as this film and story have nothing to do with Arabia, but instead is based on the same title by James Joyce in Dubliners, his collection of short stories (Araby as a title also reminds us of the joke shared by one of Cristiano’s friends).
This is a work of slow cinema coupled with social realism and political humanism. Long takes, minimal editing, and a lack of plot make for a slow burn. The consistently somber tone and downbeat ending add to the authenticity. Like real life, not much happens while at the same time plenty happens, depending on the value you place on even the most mundane encounters and conversations Cristiano partakes in.
“Araby is at once a highly concrete piece of realism…and deeply poetic,” wrote Film Comment essayist Jonathan Romney. “The realism comes from the docudrama attention to all the working-class nonprofessional players encountered along the way, and from the unobtrusively compelling central presence of Aristides de Sousa. He’s usually undemonstrative to the point of seeming an absence—just the observing consciousness in front of which all these events roll by—but once in a while he gets to emote more effusively…The poetry partly comes from the style, and from certain heightened images—notably an intermittent series of chiaroscuro still-life shots, like a crumpled plastic water bottle against the hanging sleeve of a blue work jacket. It also comes from the tender, wistful music.”
Look closely enough and you’ll see that this is an autobiography, a dystopian adventure story, a romance, a thriller, a musical, a character study, and a comedy (one of the highlights of the film, and arguably its funniest moment, is when Cristiano and an unnamed worker exchange opinions about the worst ways to sleep and the worst things they’ve carried).
Araby also undercuts our expectation for a thrilling twist or moral crisis. There’s an unforgettable moment in the middle of the story when Cristiano presumably hits someone while driving on a dark, desolate road. He drags the obscure body into a lake or river, never to speak of it to anyone. The insinuation is clear: Even if Cristiano isn’t committing a crime, his prospects are grim were he to alert the authorities, which highlights the precarious lives transient workers live and how the deck is consistently stacked against them.
“We sow so much, but reap so little,” the film’s most memorable line, also underscores its most prominent theme. Araby traces the challenges of a hard-luck laborer as he travels episodically across Brazil seeking work. We observe how hard Cristiano toils, often for little to no wages, and cannot establish roots or nurture long-term relationships. This film documents the struggles of the working poor and the economic disparity they encounter as they eke out hardscrabble lives in which the balance of power is tilted strongly against them.
We are continually reminded that the underprivileged face greater obstacles. Araby shows how, lacking economic and employment stability, the underclass are at a disadvantage, vulnerable to homelessness and sickness. Ultimately, Cristiano dies of an ambiguous cause, although it was likely something related to the hazards of working at the aluminum factory or accumulated damage to his body over the years toiling for similar employers. Recall, also, how Andre and his younger brother live near the aluminum factory, which emits toxic airborne particles – possibly the cause of his younger sibling’s illness.
Additionally, Araby emphasizes that every life has a unique story worth documenting and appreciating. Andre discovers Cristiano’s journal and reads about the man’s travels, encounters, and relationships as he works in various hard labor capacities across the country. Every stop on his journey is a memorable vignette filled with fine details and distinctive faces, underscoring that no life or experience is insignificant, even if you are one of society’s overlooked or forgotten members. We are reminded that we are the authors of our own stories, and every person has a tale to convey.
To listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of Araby, conducted last week, click here.
Interestingly, the proper story doesn’t even begin until 22 minutes into the film, which is when the title credits appear and the point when the narrative shifts from the adolescent Andre to Cristiano, whose diary Andre discovers and reads. It’s a curious way to open the movie, leading to expectations that Andre is the main character, which he is not. Consider, as well, that the picture starts with an American song, “I’ll Be Here In The Morning,” by Townes Van Zandt, a puzzling choice for a film set in Brazil. The title of the film is also peculiar, as this film and story have nothing to do with Arabia, but instead is based on the same title by James Joyce in Dubliners, his collection of short stories (Araby as a title also reminds us of the joke shared by one of Cristiano’s friends).
This is a work of slow cinema coupled with social realism and political humanism. Long takes, minimal editing, and a lack of plot make for a slow burn. The consistently somber tone and downbeat ending add to the authenticity. Like real life, not much happens while at the same time plenty happens, depending on the value you place on even the most mundane encounters and conversations Cristiano partakes in.
“Araby is at once a highly concrete piece of realism…and deeply poetic,” wrote Film Comment essayist Jonathan Romney. “The realism comes from the docudrama attention to all the working-class nonprofessional players encountered along the way, and from the unobtrusively compelling central presence of Aristides de Sousa. He’s usually undemonstrative to the point of seeming an absence—just the observing consciousness in front of which all these events roll by—but once in a while he gets to emote more effusively…The poetry partly comes from the style, and from certain heightened images—notably an intermittent series of chiaroscuro still-life shots, like a crumpled plastic water bottle against the hanging sleeve of a blue work jacket. It also comes from the tender, wistful music.”
Look closely enough and you’ll see that this is an autobiography, a dystopian adventure story, a romance, a thriller, a musical, a character study, and a comedy (one of the highlights of the film, and arguably its funniest moment, is when Cristiano and an unnamed worker exchange opinions about the worst ways to sleep and the worst things they’ve carried).
Araby also undercuts our expectation for a thrilling twist or moral crisis. There’s an unforgettable moment in the middle of the story when Cristiano presumably hits someone while driving on a dark, desolate road. He drags the obscure body into a lake or river, never to speak of it to anyone. The insinuation is clear: Even if Cristiano isn’t committing a crime, his prospects are grim were he to alert the authorities, which highlights the precarious lives transient workers live and how the deck is consistently stacked against them.
“We sow so much, but reap so little,” the film’s most memorable line, also underscores its most prominent theme. Araby traces the challenges of a hard-luck laborer as he travels episodically across Brazil seeking work. We observe how hard Cristiano toils, often for little to no wages, and cannot establish roots or nurture long-term relationships. This film documents the struggles of the working poor and the economic disparity they encounter as they eke out hardscrabble lives in which the balance of power is tilted strongly against them.
We are continually reminded that the underprivileged face greater obstacles. Araby shows how, lacking economic and employment stability, the underclass are at a disadvantage, vulnerable to homelessness and sickness. Ultimately, Cristiano dies of an ambiguous cause, although it was likely something related to the hazards of working at the aluminum factory or accumulated damage to his body over the years toiling for similar employers. Recall, also, how Andre and his younger brother live near the aluminum factory, which emits toxic airborne particles – possibly the cause of his younger sibling’s illness.
Additionally, Araby emphasizes that every life has a unique story worth documenting and appreciating. Andre discovers Cristiano’s journal and reads about the man’s travels, encounters, and relationships as he works in various hard labor capacities across the country. Every stop on his journey is a memorable vignette filled with fine details and distinctive faces, underscoring that no life or experience is insignificant, even if you are one of society’s overlooked or forgotten members. We are reminded that we are the authors of our own stories, and every person has a tale to convey.
Similar works
- The Grapes of Wrath (1940)
- Works of Italian Neorealism, like Shoeshine (1946), Bicycle Thieves (1948), and Umberto D. (1952)
- Barren Lives (1963)
- Five Easy Pieces (1970)
- Iracema: Uma Transa Amazônica (1975)
- El Norte (1983)
- La Ciénaga (2001)
- Train Dreams (2002)
- Cinema, Aspirins and Vultures (2005)
- The Kid with a Bike (2011)
- Neighboring Sounds (2012)
- Neon Bull (2015)
- Zama (2017)
- Nomadland (2020)
- Written works by Jack Kerouac, Joseph Conrad, Roberto Bolano, and John Dos Passos
Other films by João Dumans and Affonso Uchoa
- Aquele que Viu o Abismo (2024)
- As Linhas da Minha Mão (2023)
- Seven Years in May (short, 2019)
- The Hidden Tiger (2014)