Jece Valadão, a true icon of Brazilian cinema, came blazing into the world back in 1930, right there in Campos dos Goitacases, a city that’s not exactly a household name but, hey, it’s got its own flavor. The guy wasn’t just another face on the silver screen—he basically lived and breathed film. You see his name attached to all sorts of projects, but people really remember him for stuff like “Bonitinha, Mas Ordinária,” which dropped in '63 and made some serious waves. Then there’s “Vale do Canaã” from 1970—if you haven’t seen it, you’re missing a wild ride through Brazil’s cinematic landscape. Oh, and don’t sleep on “A Noite do Meu Bem” from '68, another classic that’s got his fingerprints all over it. Jece had a personal life that could’ve been a soap opera itself. Married not once, not twice, but four freaking times. Vera Lúcia, Vera Gimenez, Dulce Rodrigues, and Kátia—he really made the rounds. That’s a lot of wedding cake, honestly. His off-screen life was just as colorful as the roles he played, and you can’t really talk about old-school Brazilian movies without mentioning him at least once. He had this knack for picking roles that stuck with people, y’know? Like, you’d remember his characters long after the credits rolled. Sadly, he checked out in 2006, right in São Paulo. But his legacy? Still kicking around in every smoky, sepia-toned frame he left behind. That’s Jece—larger than life, both on screen and off.
reference nThis guy’s pretty much a legend in the world of Brazilian Cinema Novo—one of those names everyone just knows if you’re even a little into film history. He didn’t just act or direct, he basically helped shape the whole movement, pushing boundaries and ditching the usual Hollywood formulas. Cinema Novo wasn’t just about making movies; it was like, “let’s actually talk about what’s really going on here in Brazil,” showing the gritty reality, the politics, the struggles—stuff people weren’t seeing on the big screen before. And this guy? He was right there, calling the shots, mixing art with activism, sometimes making people uncomfortable on purpose. That’s the point, honestly. He had guts, style, and a knack for getting under your skin with his stories. Ask anybody who loves Brazilian cinema, and his influence is still everywhere. The movement wouldn’t be the same without him.
July 24, 1930
Konidela Ram Charan
Campos dos Goitacases, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Yes, Marco Antônio Gimenez
94 years old