Black Orpheus (Orfeu Negro in Portuguese) is a 1959 French film shot in Brazil. It was based on the Vinicius de Moraes play Orfeu da Conceição, itself an adaptation of the Greek Orpheus and Eurydice myth. With the film set in a Rio slum during Carnaval season, its Jobim and Bonfá soundtrack became famous and netted numerous bossa nova classics. If the film's title refers to a dark-skinned man, we can easily conjure up a paler version for Orpheus Labs, a Swiss high-end firm dedicated to the same enjoyment of good music. For the unvarnished truth, we'd of course best return to the original tale.


It's a real heart throb yarn. Our freshly married gal Eurydice frolics about with her bride's maids only to get bit by a poisonous snake. She dies on the spot. This has her musician hubby fall into an endless Blues-singing depression until manlier action does get his goat. Now he breaches the non-too-pearly gates of Death by exploiting his sunnier musical charms on the ancient lyre. Serenading numerous obstacles into submission, he finally pesters the Underworld's doyens into releasing his beloved. Hades and Persephone eventually grant his wish but attach a simple proviso: on their way back up, Orpheus must walk in front of Eurydice. He can't look at her until fully returned. The panicked history buff has visions of Lot's wife turning into a pillar of salt. Or was it pepper?


With said narrative catch, we know the story to be doomed. Quite so. Orpheus fails the condition in the final critical moment. In true sob-story fashion, Eurydice gets sucked back down under. A second attempt to rescue her fails when Cap'n Grim refuses to even take him across the river Styx. Crushed as befits a true Blues man, Orpheus henceforth roams ancient Greece whilst milking sad songs. Finally his refusal to bed some horny maidens gets him butchered in grisly fashion. No happy Hollyweird ending. Cut the tale short and it's easy to see why a modern hifi firm might want Orpheus and his lyre for their namesake and logo. The man was such a good pluck, he overcame the three-headed Cerberus hound; convinced the couple of Death to free his Eurydice; and even managed subsequent miracles when his tunes rendered deadly weapons harmless. If such be the power of music, by Agamemnon, we cannot leave it rest in ancient Greece. We must resurrect it for today. No viola da gamba but a lyre de samba for Orpheus Labs!