It’s a tribute to Babenco’s tough, clear-eyed direction that Pixote’s ensemble of nonprofessional child actors and veteran stars are able to interact so believably on screen. The film’s neo-realist aesthetic wouldn’t work if its cast couldn’t project such concentrated, engaging personalities, or hold the camera’s interest so charismatically without always seeming to do much. Fernando Ramos da Silva’s work in the titular role is a peak among Pixote’s talented actors, embodying an already hardened criminality while still looking to form real connections with others. For all his violent, desperate actions, there’s a childlike sense of immaturity to Pixote, one that never completely leaves him despite his suffering. 

For her part, Pêra seizes on the complexities already present in her character rather than coarsening the material for the sake of crude misery, giving Sueli a full arc where one wasn’t explicitly asked for. Pêra shows an uncanny knack for visibly externalizing Sueli’s thoughts and emotions without disrupting the film’s naturalism, often conveying multiple tones simultaneously. This is all the more impressive given the many hyperbolic elements to the character a lesser actress might mistake for the part itself  - her occupation, her age, her alcoholism, her sadness, her relationships with the kids, her recent traumas with her previous pimp and past abuses from years of sex work. Her first scene with Pixote is practically a minefield for all of these elements, as she sits on a blood-streaked toilet next to a metal bucket containing her aborted fetus and demands he leave her alone. Sueli’s anger in this scene is intimidating, but Pêra grounds this outburst in how exhausted and unwell she is, her sense of injustice at being abandoned and shoved back to work alongside a child who can’t mind his own business. As forceful as she is, she looks like she’s barely holding herself upright, and Pixote senses this as clearly as we do.