Thursday, March 5 marks the voting deadline for Oscar voters. For The Secret Agent, it’s the end of a long road. The Brazilian Oscar contender is a contender in four major categories, including Best Picture, a stunning outcome for the unique period drama set in the days of Brazil’s military dictatorship. 
Meanwhile, another voting deadline looms around the corner in the movie’s home country. 
In October, Brazilians will vote in the first round of presidential elections for the first time since their previous president, the far-right populist Jair Bolsonaro, lost to the Workers’ Party candidate Luis Inácio Lula da Silva in 2022. Da Silva, most popularly known as “Lula,” returned to the presidency after serving two terms at the beginning of the millennium. If he wins again, the 80-year-old politician will be the country’s first president to serve four terms.
It’s quite the shift of circumstances for a country just a few years after many predicted that its democracy was on the way out. Bolsonaro’s autocratic four-year rule culminated with an attempted coup that landed him a 27-year prison sentence last year. 
The Secret Agent, which takes place in the midst of the country’s military dictatorship that lasted from 1964 through 1985, has helped contextualize Bolsonaro’s rise as the country grapples with the aftermath of his rule — and provided a framework for assessing what comes next. 
“I thought I was writing a film about the seventies,” said writer-director Kleber Mendonça Filho in a recent interview over Zoom. “The repetition in Brazil with the recent government that did not get a reelection” — he avoids using Bolsonaro’s name —  “it really felt like they were trying to bring back the old times. These are old white men who wanted to relive their youthful years of the dictatorship. Millions of people did not see that coming.”
The factors that yielded Bolsonaro’s victory have yet to recede. While Lula is favored to win in October, Liberal Party candidate and senator Flávio Bolsonaro, the incarcerated ex-president’s son, launched his campaign in December with his father’s support. Recent polls suggest Flávio Bolsonaro lags behind Lula by a mere eight percent. For some viewers, that means The Secret Agent remains something of a warning sign through the lens of the past.

With Lula publicly celebrating the success of The Secret Agent, supporters of the opposition party attempted to deaden its momentum. “There’s fake news out there saying that the cinemas are empty and that the numbers are completely false,” said Mendonça Filho. “This is so absurd. These are official numbers coming from the national film agency verified by the press. It’s just a war of narratives.” (To date, The Secret Agent has outgrossed all other Best Picture Oscar contenders at the Brazilian box office.) 
As these circumstances play out (with additional right-wing candidates entering the election in recent months), The Secret Agent has become a cultural phenomenon in Brazil. Images and video from the country’s Carnival festivities feature many partiers dressing up as their favorite characters from the movie. Star Wagner Moura’s vintage yellow t-shirt, a remnant of the 1978 carnival group from the era the movie takes place, may well end up generating resonance in the election to underscore its anti-fascist stakes. 
Still, Mendonça Filho resists ascribing an explicit political agenda to his work. “I just focus on telling a story,” he said. “The tensions within it might be interpreted as political. I think it’s part of our job to discuss society and if you discuss society, you will inevitably discuss some form of politics.”
Yet the very existence of The Secret Agent speaks in part to the change of fortune within the country. During his presidency, Bolsonaro slashed funding for Ancine, the country’s regulatory film body, essentially freezing any support for national film productions. Shot on the heels of last year’s best international Oscar winner, Walter Salles’ I’m Still Here, Mendonça Filho’s movie marks a return to the freedom of expression that was enshrined in its constitution back in 1988. 
“Things have become more stable and supportive for filmmakers since Lula came back into office,” said Débora Butruce, a curator who serves as the vice president of the Brazilian Association of Audiovisual Presentation. “After a period of budget cuts, stalled policies, and a pretty hostile attitude toward the cultural sector, there’s been a real effort to rebuild funding programs, get institutions working again, and reopen dialogue with filmmakers and the audiovisual sector in general. That shift hasn’t just improved working conditions, but it’s also reinforced the idea that cinema matters as part of Brazil’s culture and democratic life.”
The Secret Agent focuses on Moura’s character Armando as he returns to Recife while on the lam from oppressive government forces. For Butruce, it functions as both a cautionary tale and a model of the filmmaking potential now at the country’s disposal. “It touches on themes like political memory and surveillance in a way that feels relevant and easy to connect with, especially given what’s going on in Brazil right now,” she said. “At the same time, the film’s high production quality shows how strong and resilient Brazil’s audiovisual industry has become, even in the face of challenges.”
No matter how much propagandists attempt to position The Secret Agent as an advertisement for the incumbent, the argument has yet to stick. “The film industry’s success is more likely to shape conversations about culture and democracy than to directly determine the election outcome,” Butruce said. “When the industry is thriving, winning awards, creating jobs, and getting international recognition it can be used as proof that investing in culture pays off.”

That perspective was echoed by Secret Agent distributor Silvia Cruz, the founder of Vitrine Filmes. “The question here is not whether the film will impact the elections,” she said, “but what kind of memory Brazil wants to leave for the future about this moment in time.” 
While traveling internationally to support his film, Mendonça Filho said he was repeatedly pressed on whether the president’s support had anything to do with the national funding behind the production. “People ask, ‘Is your film an official government film?’” he said. “Absolutely not. So they say, ‘But Lula invited you to come to the presidential palace!’’ He did, because this president is actually proud that there’s a Brazilian film doing well, much like an athlete who comes back with a gold medal.” 
The filmmaker acknowledged his own preferences. “Would I meet any president? No,” he said. “I would meet someone I find reasonable but for whom I never would have voted. I would never have met with Bolsonaro if he had invited us—but he never would have invited us, because he absolutely despises us.” 
While Mendonça Filho shies away from ideological readings of his work, The Secret Agent asserts a survival tactic for life during oppressive times. “One thing I really learned from those years was the value of getting together with your friends—the people you love—and developing a kind of protection,” he said. “If everybody’s together, when you go through a tough moment sharing your thoughts and grievances, you get through it. That’s something that really is in the film.”