Emanuel_Matos
Lifetime Total
1+
IMDb Member
20 years
Reviews
Meus Amigos (1974)
Largely underestimated 70s gem capturing an epoch's mood.
By the time it was premiered, right after Portugal had put an end to its dictatorship (in 1974), Cunha Telles is supposed to have said: "This is no masterpiece; but, then again, it's no time for masterpieces yet".
Well, I don't consider it a masterpiece but it conveys such a nostalgic feeling of hopeful and enthusiastic times gone (in the aftermath of the Carnation Revolution) that I wouldn't want to overlook.
The film tries to capture the the political commitment and social engagement that those rousing and idealistical times produced in (even) the common people. All the characters are politically and socially well-informed - a reason to which might well be that they are literate cultivated middle class students or independent workers at home (like the main character who does translating and news writing).
Although this may feel like a contradiction to what has been said above, they all seem lost and freely-wandering people with loose reference points in a constantly and unexpectedly changing society. But that's the whole fascination (and reality) of post-revolutionary settings (check the post-revolutionary Soviet Union of the years 1917-1920s, before the grimness of Stalin's era).
There are great existential dialogues and realistically-shot long sequences (in a typical Portuguese "cervejaria", in a capitalist-owned mansion now occupied by left-wing would be squatters and walking on a Lisbon street by the river, just to mention a few).
Well, I don't consider it a masterpiece but it conveys such a nostalgic feeling of hopeful and enthusiastic times gone (in the aftermath of the Carnation Revolution) that I wouldn't want to overlook.
The film tries to capture the the political commitment and social engagement that those rousing and idealistical times produced in (even) the common people. All the characters are politically and socially well-informed - a reason to which might well be that they are literate cultivated middle class students or independent workers at home (like the main character who does translating and news writing).
Although this may feel like a contradiction to what has been said above, they all seem lost and freely-wandering people with loose reference points in a constantly and unexpectedly changing society. But that's the whole fascination (and reality) of post-revolutionary settings (check the post-revolutionary Soviet Union of the years 1917-1920s, before the grimness of Stalin's era).
There are great existential dialogues and realistically-shot long sequences (in a typical Portuguese "cervejaria", in a capitalist-owned mansion now occupied by left-wing would be squatters and walking on a Lisbon street by the river, just to mention a few).
Mon cas (1986)
A radical and absurd Régio screen adaptation
A serious case of originality, creativity and innovation coming from someone who is often considered cinema's boring old geezer, here adapting reputed early 20th century Portuguese poet and drama author José Régio's O MEU CASO.
It's the only film I know which consists of 4 separate and different versions of the same story, as it were: 1) on stage, during a play's rehearsal; 2) as one of those films of the 1910s and 1920s, in which people moved at an accelerated pace; 3) with a chromatically-charged photography and dialogues of a sense of the absurd only equalled by the likes of Beckett or Ionesco ; 4) in a dusky setting, serving as a metaphor to our civilization's current state of affairs, the BOOK OF JOB is recited by byblical characters.
Oliveira and his cast are rehearsing a play, with a sweet girl idyllically playing the old "forget me forget me not" game when a desperate older man bursts in and, setting the astonished poor girl aside, proceeds to let the whole world know about his ordeal saying (and it's not an exact quote): "no one cares to know whether he forgets you or not because what really matters is MY CASE".
When this first part gets to its end, it starts all over again from the beginning (but shot in a different manner). And there's two more after that one. This was done in Literature by outstanding and innovative French writer Raymond Queneau's EXERCICES DE STYLE - a book in which the author rewrites numerous times the same story, each with a specific style.
The second part of the film is projected as if you played an old vynil LP at 45 rpm or as if you pressed "fast forward" on your VCR. Inserted in the middle of the film are images of real tragedies and disasters taken from documentary films and TV news archives. Is it the sort of film they produce in Mars? Or is this what world cinema will be like when, in the 25th century, a new form of life will be sprouting from the ashes of a 4th and life-exterminating world war?
It's the only film I know which consists of 4 separate and different versions of the same story, as it were: 1) on stage, during a play's rehearsal; 2) as one of those films of the 1910s and 1920s, in which people moved at an accelerated pace; 3) with a chromatically-charged photography and dialogues of a sense of the absurd only equalled by the likes of Beckett or Ionesco ; 4) in a dusky setting, serving as a metaphor to our civilization's current state of affairs, the BOOK OF JOB is recited by byblical characters.
Oliveira and his cast are rehearsing a play, with a sweet girl idyllically playing the old "forget me forget me not" game when a desperate older man bursts in and, setting the astonished poor girl aside, proceeds to let the whole world know about his ordeal saying (and it's not an exact quote): "no one cares to know whether he forgets you or not because what really matters is MY CASE".
When this first part gets to its end, it starts all over again from the beginning (but shot in a different manner). And there's two more after that one. This was done in Literature by outstanding and innovative French writer Raymond Queneau's EXERCICES DE STYLE - a book in which the author rewrites numerous times the same story, each with a specific style.
The second part of the film is projected as if you played an old vynil LP at 45 rpm or as if you pressed "fast forward" on your VCR. Inserted in the middle of the film are images of real tragedies and disasters taken from documentary films and TV news archives. Is it the sort of film they produce in Mars? Or is this what world cinema will be like when, in the 25th century, a new form of life will be sprouting from the ashes of a 4th and life-exterminating world war?
Recordações da Casa Amarela (1989)
Portuguese idiosyncrasy
This is a strikingly original piece of work. Both in its overall tone and in how it portrays (what I would call) a certain sickening "malaise" of our age's urban solitary Man.
This is where the João de Deus character (almost his alter-ego) first shows up in Monteiro's "oeuvre". Yes, it can be said that this film depicts some of Man's most shamingly unconfessed little dirty everyday sleaziness. But it does so in a hauntingly poetic way: there's somewhat of (what might be called) "aesthetics of all things disgusting" to it, which would reach its peak in Monteiro's own A BACIA DE J.W.
João de Deus undergoes some sordid humiliation and proceeds to enact or abide by the politics of slimy (but classy and literate) seduction. It's the "classy" and "literate" factors that prevent this film from being annoyingly disgusting (it's not "what" you do but "how" you do it)
There's also the lust of decadence as he's comfortably numbed into an ever materially and psychologically degrading state, starting from when he has to flee the flat he was paying for after a uniquely poetic and shy seduction/rape scene.
It's quite possibly the best Portuguese film I've seen. And there's much of the proverbial Portuguese dreaming and poetic melancholy (even sadness) tone in that there's shootings of the narrow typical Lisbon streets and recreations of some (not so typical) fate-ridden scenes (fate means "fado") so closely and frequently attached to the Portuguese.
This is where the João de Deus character (almost his alter-ego) first shows up in Monteiro's "oeuvre". Yes, it can be said that this film depicts some of Man's most shamingly unconfessed little dirty everyday sleaziness. But it does so in a hauntingly poetic way: there's somewhat of (what might be called) "aesthetics of all things disgusting" to it, which would reach its peak in Monteiro's own A BACIA DE J.W.
João de Deus undergoes some sordid humiliation and proceeds to enact or abide by the politics of slimy (but classy and literate) seduction. It's the "classy" and "literate" factors that prevent this film from being annoyingly disgusting (it's not "what" you do but "how" you do it)
There's also the lust of decadence as he's comfortably numbed into an ever materially and psychologically degrading state, starting from when he has to flee the flat he was paying for after a uniquely poetic and shy seduction/rape scene.
It's quite possibly the best Portuguese film I've seen. And there's much of the proverbial Portuguese dreaming and poetic melancholy (even sadness) tone in that there's shootings of the narrow typical Lisbon streets and recreations of some (not so typical) fate-ridden scenes (fate means "fado") so closely and frequently attached to the Portuguese.