Content Warning: Boku spoilers for the 2025 Brazilian film “Caramelo.” Also, this movie’s “Does the Dog Die” ratings are slightly off.

I get that in theory, my family and I are not the center of the universe. Promise, I do.

But when a Brazilian movie about Caramelos debuts on Netflix, we’re going to pay attention. My sister, Bean, has been in love with Brazil since she lived there a decade ago. She loves Brazil so much that she speaks proficient Portuguese and will happily chat up any Brazilian she runs into (which, in the Bay Area, is not infrequent). While I’ve never been, I also have a soft spot for Brazil since it’s produced some very wonderful people I love. We’ve also been big fans of Brazilian snacks for the longest time, with her being obsessed with all forms of acai, and me demolishing any pastry (especially pao de quiejo) that comes my way.

Our family also has a soft spot for Caramelos, aka the national symbol of Brazil, aka the adorable mix-breed, caramel-colored dogs. Why, you may ask? Well, because we have one. Although technically our girl isn’t from Brazil, but the Dominican Republic.

In 2019, Bean went to the Dominican Republic and fell in love.

Not with any person, but with a happy, wiggly street dog she nicknamed Chica. She and Chica met outside a gas station in Las Terranas, and within three days, Bean was obsessed. During their last meeting, as Bean said goodbye to Chica, the poor dog ran into traffic trying to follow her. That’s when Bean knew she loved her. So when Bean arrived back in the states, she put her persuasive powers to work and got my dad, Yiayia, and me to rally behind bringing Chica home.

Was bringing Chica here a ridiculous extravagance? Yeah, probably. But you don’t fall in love every day, and we know it’s made a positive difference in Chica’s life, as she would likely not have lived much longer had Bean not taken notice of her.

Oh, also, I supported my sister’s dream of bringing Chica here because my dog, Daphne, had gone missing, and I went insane with worry. Daphne came back eight days later, Bean got a canine bestie out of it, and now that whole week feels like a fever dream.

Anyway.

Fast forward to this week, and we see a Brazilian movie on Netflix called “Caramelo.” It feels like a sign. We must watch this increasingly popular movie about an adorable street dog that gets adopted and lives its best life.

But we probably should have read the movie’s description, because then we might have thought twice about watching it. “Caramelo,” is a cancer movie. Or a “rare illness,” movie.

The second I saw the main character, Pedro, experiencing a headache, I knew. The moment the Caramelo (whom Pedro names “Caramelo”) started licking Pedro’s head, it was more obvious. When Pedro was in the hospital getting an MRI, I turned to Bean (who had Chica sitting in her lap like a giant coxinha) and said, “This is a brain tumor movie.”

For those of you unfamiliar with my background, my family and I are extremely well-versed in the horrors of brain tumors, because my mom was diagnosed with one in 2014. She spent a year undergoing ineffective, life-altering treatments before passing away in August 2015. The experience ruined our lives.

I’m sorry if you were hoping I’d say something instead, like, “we all came through it stronger and united,” or “we learned to treasure each moment,” but that would be a lie. The American healthcare system is a nightmare, and many of us walked away as devastated hypochondriacs.

So, uh, yeah, I’m a little cynical about how cancer, specifically brain cancer, is depicted in the media. My family didn’t get a happy ending, so I’m critical of the fictional characters who do.

Midway through the movie, my sister asked, “Why did it have to be brain cancer?”

My reply was, “Because no one ever gets that in real life.”

Obviously, I was being sarcastic, but it’s because I’m not a fan of how brain cancer is depicted in fictional media. According to the National Cancer Institute, the most common cancers include bladder, breast, and colon/rectal. Brain cancer, on the other hand, makes up about 1.2% of diagnoses.

Because of its rarity, brain tumors and brain cancer are an amazing plot device that some writers just love to deploy. If I were to hazard a guess as to why, it’s because their relative rarity, combined with their ominous presence, makes for good drama. Audiences can turn in, be horrified for the afflicted character, experience some kind of catharsis through the characters’ agony, and then go to sleep feeling alright because it won’t happen to them.

If there’s one thing I appreciated about this movie, it’s when the ill-fated cancer patient Leo said the following with Pedro:

Leo: You’re thinking, “Why us?” But why not us?

I told Bean the moment Leo appeared in the movie that he would be the cancer patient who inspires Pedro to live before tragically dying at a young age. Happy dramas with cancer patients generally don’t end with the patient passing on, because that would be too depressing for the audience. But someone else has to go to remind the audience of the fragility of life, and in this case, it was Leo.

Based on my comments so far, you may be thinking, “So you hated the movie?”

Not at all! I hated whoever made the decision to have the terrible English dubbing be the only way to watch the movie (instead of in its original Portuguese with English subtitles, like God intended), but I didn’t dislike the movie.

The main leads (Pedro and Caramelo) were both super cute, and as someone who loves movies about chefs, I was all-in on the story. A rescue dog who rescues his owner? A weirdly hostile girl who works with dogs, who is obviously the love interest? Saving an animal shelter by selling delicious coxinhas? Sign me the hell up. I love all that crap.

What I didn’t love was the ending. Not just the sad implication that Caramelo would soon die of old age after a life of faithful service, but that it bummed Bean out so much. We, my dad, sister, and I, were all affected by it, because watching a movie that reminds you of your shared trauma while also reminding you that your dog lives a stupidly short life can be devastating. I’m sure my dad didn’t appreciate the subtle reminder that our family dog, Sweet Boy, who my mom had tried to train as a guide dog, passed away this year after not living nearly long enough.

I also didn’t love the false narrative that cancer patients have endless amounts of energy, but this is far from the first movie to portray a high-energy cancer patient. To “Caramelo’s” credit, at least Pedro briefly lost his sense of taste due to the chemotherapy, which was a suitably dramatic twist.

“Caramelo” is a decent movie. It’s dramatic when it wants to be, funny when it intends to be, and the occasional animations of the titular character are adorable. You’ll find yourself singing the infectious “Caramelo” song all the time, and you’ll definitely want some kind of fried dough.

But be aware that this is a cancer movie AND a dog movie, so you might need a palate cleanser. My recommendation is any episode of “King of the Hill” featuring Ladybird, like “Dances with Dogs.” And skip that episode of “Futurama” about Fry’s dog.