Balomania

In the heart of the Brazilian favelas, Danish director Sissel Morell Dargis, the only woman in an exclusively male world, gained unprecedented access to the underground world of the ​“balloon mafia.” For the baloeiros of Rio and São Paulo, the creation, launch, and hunting of hot air balloons represent an illegal practice, yet one deeply rooted in their cultural heritage, dating back to colonial times. Today, this practice is outlawed by the authorities, putting it on the same level as drug cartels. However, these colossal creations, which can reach over 70 meters in height and require the collaboration of more than 100 people, are also unique works of art, meticulously decorated by local artists. With the police and bounty hunters on their trail, Dargis embarks on a thrilling chase to document the obsession and extreme sacrifices necessary for this spectacular craft. Balomania is an intimate and explosive narrative about freedom at any cost, offering a glimpse into the creativity and audacity of favela residents, while questioning our perceptions of gang life, community spirit, and the power of art.

Director’s Statement:
When I entered the balloon scene as a 19-year-old, quite by chance through a graffiti painter friend, it was like the stories you hear about people ending up in sects or strange cults. I had been part of another community, the graffiti scene in São Paulo, which at the time was growing explosively.
I first painted under another alias – until people started calling me Simba. For them, it was a nicer way of saying: ​“you’re a bit cute, and you’re kind of a giant baby, trying to run with us lions… If you want to survive, you must learn to run fast enough.” I could never quite run fast enough, and I ended up in Brazil as an illegal immigrant with no money, well hustled by some guys who ​“could help” with a work permit and papers to change my legal status. I was very young and naive… but I still had the graffiti friends who were always ready to lend me a hand or point me in a certain direction. And then suddenly, on the day I felt the most screwed, a friend told me it was time I got to know the world of balloons.
Later, I heard a saying from the balloon world: ​“the balloons come when we need them the most”. That same evening, my friend offers me shelter if I help prepare a balloon for the local boys in the favela. And sure enough… That night, the balloons changed the course of my life in the most remarkable way.

As the small, colorful balloon we have spent 6 hours making flies over the favela, I suddenly understand that my life is nothing but that small light in the sky in a vast, all-encompassing universe. Suddenly, me and the eight guys understand the same thing. There is no you and me. There is no gender, no nationality… At least for a little while, there was only the light and the dark, and this moment when we knew that we were alive and part of something bigger.

After that day, I knew something had changed within me. Some kind of primal instinct was awakened inside me. I didn’t understand it at all. But for once, a channel of spirituality and community had cleared, something I felt I had always searched for in the scenes I had been part of. And it was the perfect setting for a chaotic teenager like me. Think of an ancient ritual, both street and gangster.

I could appreciate art and color in context, but at the same time this was so gangster that I suddenly felt genuinely protected. I was allowed to be, without having to prove to anyone that I was tough enough to deserve respect. I thought of my friends back home in Holmbladsgade, or those standing in Pusher Street in ‑20 degrees, and how tough they acted, and how hard a time they had… and thought, fuck… if only they had a few breaks… just a few minutes where they too could feel what I had felt. Open that channel, without any substances, without any bullshit. For a moment, everyone was breathing in sync. As if it were a prayer we all had to coordinate to give it power. And without words, without language other than the balloon, articulate a complex philosophical question through something so simple. That had to be the key.
How could you make spiritual unity equally accessible to everyone, without having to find out whether you were a Catholic, like me, a Muslim, an agnostic, a Protestant, or an atheist. It felt like for a moment, even atheists believed in the light. To make something fly up into the universe, it was hard not to get just a little turned on by it.

But in Brazil, it was considered organized crime, and I quickly learned that you couldn’t mention it to people outside the community, who were turned on in the wrong way. Furious. Who did I think I was to come along and think the Brazilian balloon gangs were cool!?
Obviously, the activities being so illegal has created a real gang dynamic in the balloon world. A closed off community, band tattoos, secret parties, hierarchies, protection, etc. And in many ways, I have no doubt that many of us who are or were part of this world were captivated by the same thing that captivates most people who join a gang. The community, the sense of a loyal family that will die for you.
On the other hand, I was still an outsider who couldn’t quite grasp how hard it really was. Balloon activity was dealt with under sections against proliferation of cartels. It was only when I was deep in the balloon community that I felt the consequences of having entered that world. On the other hand, I was also aware that I had received the greatest gift life could have offered me at the time. That connection to something bigger I had always sought. The brothers I never had. A Godfather who looked after me and helped me with this idea of a film. It is thanks to them that I stepped into the film and gaming world.
- Sissel Morell Dargis