The reappraisal of Brazilian Tropicalia was one of 1999's most pleasant surprises, bringing such previously neglected or forgotten names as Tom Zé, Os Mutantes, and Caetano Veloso back into vogue. While Zé and Os Mutantes are primarily praised for their adventurousness, Veloso is often worshipped as Brazil's answer to Bob Dylan. Dylan fans probably didn't hear the resemblance on his excellent 1999 disc Livro, but in some circles Veloso is treated with similar cultural import. The current Brazilian explosion has served as a reminder that the country's culture has long been loved and respected by the rest of the world. There was, of course, the bossa nova revolution of the '60s, still marked by Stan Getz and Joao Gilberto's "The Girl From Ipanema," and then there was Black Orpheus, Marcel Camus' 1959 version of Vinicius de Moraes' Orfeu da Conceicao, which reset the Orpheus/Eurydice myth in the slums and carnivals of Rio de Janeiro. Last year, director Carlos Diegues remade that film with a previously unheard-of budget, as well as a soundtrack by Veloso. Despite the rare interjection of hip-hop elements or electronica, Orfeu is remarkably retro, recalling the lush scores of the '60s and the more traditional aspects of Veloso's craft. The emphasis of the songs is on acoustic guitar and giant walls of drums that bring to mind both a sense of celebration and a taste of the story's inevitable tragedy. Yet compared to Veloso's other solo work, Orfeu—like Diegues' notion of remaking a film from a play based on a myth—lacks the spark of real inspiration or creativity. Fine but not exceptional, it merely treads water when it might have stirred up the waves.