"Sooner or later, all independent women are labeled witches", says one of the characters in «Alma viva», an outstanding first feature by Portuguese filmmaker Cristèle Alves Meira, which addresses the female condition in a surly, aggressive, and superstitious rural environment, where death makes an unexpected visit and reveals the intimacies of a family, for which the adjective "dysfunctional" is a compliment.
«Alma viva» somehow reminds me of ethnographic cinema, tinted with the overflowing passion typical of the Greco-Latin countries from southern Europe: we frequently witness the fiery Greek, Italian or Hispanic temperament on the screen, but it is not often that we come across Portuguese manifestations like this, with room for emotional underdevelopment and small-town mess.
The protagonist is a girl named Salomé (Lua Michel), granddaughter of a woman who is accused of being a witch. Her grandmother (Ester Catalão) is a free and vital force that has always done what she wants, including sleeping with the husband of her neighbor, a boisterous woman who is blamed for her sudden death. Salomé adored her grandmother and seeks to avenge her, falling into a phase of trances and sleepwalking that scares the town, while her mother, uncles and aunts postpone the funeral and dispute legacies, memories and gifts, and a forest fire breaks out, as if the heat of misunderstanding ignited the flame.
The moving story benefits from the decision to narrate it in a sunny manner, without shocks, sensationalism, or manipulative music. On the contrary, the film is full of popular tunes and melodies. The selection of the cast, which mixes professionals with natural actors, adds more credibility to the story. The director has a privileged eye for finding faces and interpreters and the admirable cinematography by Rui Poças makes the most of natural light and spaces.
A film that deserves to be seen, awarded at many festivals, and proposed by Portugal for the Oscar, it reveals the talent of a new promising director.
«Alma viva» somehow reminds me of ethnographic cinema, tinted with the overflowing passion typical of the Greco-Latin countries from southern Europe: we frequently witness the fiery Greek, Italian or Hispanic temperament on the screen, but it is not often that we come across Portuguese manifestations like this, with room for emotional underdevelopment and small-town mess.
The protagonist is a girl named Salomé (Lua Michel), granddaughter of a woman who is accused of being a witch. Her grandmother (Ester Catalão) is a free and vital force that has always done what she wants, including sleeping with the husband of her neighbor, a boisterous woman who is blamed for her sudden death. Salomé adored her grandmother and seeks to avenge her, falling into a phase of trances and sleepwalking that scares the town, while her mother, uncles and aunts postpone the funeral and dispute legacies, memories and gifts, and a forest fire breaks out, as if the heat of misunderstanding ignited the flame.
The moving story benefits from the decision to narrate it in a sunny manner, without shocks, sensationalism, or manipulative music. On the contrary, the film is full of popular tunes and melodies. The selection of the cast, which mixes professionals with natural actors, adds more credibility to the story. The director has a privileged eye for finding faces and interpreters and the admirable cinematography by Rui Poças makes the most of natural light and spaces.
A film that deserves to be seen, awarded at many festivals, and proposed by Portugal for the Oscar, it reveals the talent of a new promising director.
