“Coimbra in November becomes a gathering place for film professionals. For eight days, the festival offered audiences a program heavily oriented toward national films, alongside masterclasses and exhibitions dedicated to film and culture. “It’s a collective effort of more than 600 people who, since 1988, have tirelessly defended and promoted Portuguese cinema,” the organizers declared”.
“Caminhos do Cinema Português” means “Paths of Portuguese Cinema”, so, as you guess I’ve prepared a small journey for you into modern Portuguese cinema.
I’m a film critic and journalist from Georgia, who recently relocated to Lisbon. In order to better understand the country and its people, exploring Portuguese cinema became my main task. Of course, we all know the big names—Manoel de Oliveira, Pedro Costa, and Miguel Gomes—but to gain a deeper understanding, it was essential for me to attend local film festivals, where national films are presented, where you have the opportunity to meet people from the local film industry, and where you observe your search for the country’s identity. That’s why during my visits to festivals, I was always making a priority to watch the national sections.
After attending two major international festivals in Lisbon, IndieLisboa and DocLisboa, I felt it was time for a deeper exploration. So, in November, I traveled to Coimbra for “Caminhos do Cinema Português”.
Coimbra in November becomes a gathering place for film professionals. For eight days, the festival—celebrating its 30th edition—offered audiences a program heavily oriented toward national films, alongside masterclasses and exhibitions dedicated to film and culture. “It’s a collective effort of more than 600 people who, since 1988, have tirelessly defended and promoted Portuguese cinema,” the organizers declared.
Despite its small team, “Caminhos do Cinema Português” fosters a unique connection by bringing together the film community for dialogue and reflection. For the second time FIPRESCI participated as a jury. This allowed us critics to focus on the “Caminhos” (Path) section, which featured a rich selection of Portuguese-made feature films and documentaries—a perfect fit for me.
Coimbra is not a densely populated city (in 2021, it had a population of just 140,796), but it is renowned for its historic university, the oldest in Portugal, and is affectionately called “A cidade dos estudantes” (the city of students). Given its reputation as a hub of education and culture, I found it surprising to see low attendance at the festival’s screenings, held in the spacious Academic Theatre of Gil Vicente, where the main section took place.
One possible explanation could be the content itself—national films may not resonate widely with audiences. Another point might be the growing dominance of streaming platforms, which offer the possibility of watching films anywhere, anytime. Of course, it’s a very comfortable solution to enjoy movies from your sofa, but at the same time this trendy “comfort zone” creates a gap between audiences and the cinematic experience. Because watching a film on a big screen, it’s like a ritual, a shared moment where you exchange emotions and thoughts with others. For me, it’s like entering in a unknown dark cave, where you don’t know what’s will happen, but one thing is for sure – you will dive in it. That experience, that magic, is something irreplaceable. Don’t you agree?
For its 30th edition, the festival began with a tribute to Luis Miguel Cintra, a towering figure in Portuguese theater and cinema. A special award was presented in his honor, and the festival dedicated a section of its program to celebrating his work.
The opening film was Miguel Gomes’ Grand Tour, which won this year’s Cannes Film Festival Best Director Prize and serves as Portugal’s Oscar submission. This black-and-white romantic and melancholic odyssey tells the story of a couple through dual perspectives—male and female. In the first part, we follow Edward Abbot, an Englishman who is meant to marry his fiancée after seven years apart but instead embarks on an escapist journey across Asia to avoid her. The second part shifts to Molly Singleton, his fiancée, whose resilient smile and determined character lead her to pursue the man of her dreams.
Gomes masterfully blends music and imagery to create a fairy-tale-like experience, set in 1918. Yet, it’s more than just a geographical or temporal journey—it’s a timeless, universal narrative. Some critics have compared the film’s mix of artifice and reality to the expressionism of silent cinema, but for Gomes, it’s ultimately a film about faith.
“I would say it’s a film about faith,” Gomes explained in an interview with Notebook Magazine. “There’s this obsessed woman who has too much faith in her fiancé. And there’s this very scared man who has no faith in her. And then there’s the viewer, who has to have faith to enter this artificial world and take the trip with them. It’s wonderful to give viewers the freedom to decide if they want to believe in a film, even if it’s a little absurd.”
Faith, however, is a theme largely absent from the long features and documentaries presented in the “Path” section. Of the 16 films showcased, more than half explored the history and aftermath of Portuguese colonialism, telling untold stories from the other side.
For You, Portugal, I Swear! (Por Ti, Portugal, Eu Juro!), directed by Sofia da Palma Rodrigues and Diogo Cardoso, tells the powerful story of African soldiers who fought alongside the Portuguese Armed Forces during the Colonial War (1961–1974). These soldiers risked their lives for a homeland they believed was their own. Yet, after the Carnation Revolution, they were abandoned—ignored and forgotten by history. Now, they remain shadows of a neglected past, still seeking justice and recognition. Many of them passed away still waiting for acknowledgment of their sacrifices, leaving their stories as a haunting reminder of historical injustice.
Focusing on their voices, the filmmakers unmask a history often overlooked, asking difficult questions about identity, loyalty, and the failure of a nation to honor its promises. The archive used in the film and the testimonies create content that feels urgent and, at the same time, deeply touching, asking viewers to face the uncomfortable truth of Portugal’s colonial legacy.
With meditative rhythms and long shots, Dulce Fernandes in the film Tales of Oblivion (Contos do Esquecimento) seeks to exhume buried histories. Inspired by archaeological findings in Lagos, Southern Portugal, the film delves into the lives of enslaved African people—a past unearthed but often ignored. Through reflective storytelling, Fernandes exposes the forgotten stories of those whose legacies were buried by time. This is another compelling documentary that invites the audience to reflect on history’s overlooked narratives.
In contrast, Banzo (Banzo) by Margarida Cardoso is a fiction film that takes us back to the early 20th century. The term “banzo” was used to describe the overwhelming nostalgia and despair felt by enslaved African people, which often led them to end their own lives. Cardoso’s film attempts to reveal the deep scars left by systemic oppression, offering a poignant narrative of resilience and pain.
We also see these themes explored in At the Table of the Popular Unity (Á Mesa da Unidade Popular ), another documentary by Isabel Noronha and Camilo de Sousa. This film recalls the post-independence period of Mozambique, reflecting on the struggles and complexities of a nation rebuilding itself after colonial rule.
Sempre (Sempre) by Luciana Fina brings to life the images of the 1974 Carnation Revolution in Portugal, showcasing the country’s journey from fascism to liberation and the process of building a new nation. The film masterfully intertwines the past and present, blending archival footage—radio broadcasts from the 1970s, photographs of student protests in Coimbra, and fictional excerpts like António Campos’ A Invenção do Amor (1965) and Ana Hatherley’s Revolução (1975)—with voices recorded during contemporary demonstrations. The transitions are so seamless and relevant that, without the timestamps, it would be difficult to distinguish past from present. Colonization, freedom, and the struggle to shape a better future remain timeless themes. With its strong storytelling, Fina creates a vivid and thought-provoking film that revisits the same questions 50 years later. This seamless weaving of history and modernity earned Sempre the festival’s top honor, the Grand Prize.
Collectively, the films at the festival shed light on overlooked histories, emphasizing themes of memory, justice, and identity—particularly for those left behind or erased from dominant narratives.
It is no coincidence that many of these films urge us to remember. Isn’t cinema, after all, a reflection of reality? During this year’s April 25th celebrations marking the end of fascism in Portugal, Lisbon’s Avenida da Liberdade was more crowded than ever. “This is very important to us,” one Portuguese film critic told me as we stood among the crowd proclaiming loudly: “fascismo nunca mais” (fascism never again). “We must not forget that evil existed before and can return.”
In a time of political turbulence, with the rise of the far-right becoming the third-largest political force in parliament and pushing harsh policies against minorities while emphasizing nationalism, it feels more critical than ever to revisit history. These films serve as reminders to reflect and reconsider: are we doing enough to ensure history’s lessons are not forgotten?
Salome Kikaleishvili
Edited by Rita Di Santo
© FIPRESCI 2024