On this page: FILIPINANA | FJORD | THE PORTUGUESE HOUSE

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Both Isabel and Clara are piecing together what they see into a rather unnerving bigger picture. Agoto and Castellanos play them as watchful young women who only speak when they have something meaningful to say. And even then, we can see that they are holding their thoughts to themselves. But they take in everyone and everything around them. Their interaction is powerfully textured, especially as both refuse to be intimidated by people with power.

It's fascinating to watch the warm camaraderie between the workers, as they languish outdoors under fans, while their bosses keep the air conditioning blasting in their offices. And the way Manuel orchestrates much of the action as choreographed dance is simply wonderful, from cleaning pools to swiping at balls on the driving range. This makes the most of the almost comically crisp locations and costumes, while bringing out far more insidious story elements, especially as a tragedy begins to unfold.

themes, language, violence

22.Sep.26

Performances are understated but bold, finding powerful edges in each of the characters. Stan gives Mihai a sometimes startling stubbornness, unable to contain himself in the face of injustice. So it's not necessarily about whether he's right, but that he is rudely dismissed as a religious foreigner. Reinsve is even more subtle as the quietly steely Lisbet, forced to see her homeland through new eyes. Ceban and Breazu skilfully provide their own important perspective. And Carlehad and Tonseth offer an astonishingly textured take on the local culture.

Indeed, it's unnerving to see Mats so coldly discipline his teen daughter (Lund-Olsen), who has befriended Elia and Emmanuel, but of course his psychological manipulation doesn't raise red flags here. This dual standard is bracingly depicted with striking understatement that sends a chill through the audience. Where the story goes is startling and almost shockingly honest, as Mihai and Lisbet come to the only possible decision they can make. The fact that this might be the point of everything is darkly provocative on multiple layers.

themes, language

29.Sep.26

All of the performances are naturalistic. Solo has an earthy charm as the reticent Fernando, which feeds beautifully into his somewhat enigmatic presence as this imposter gardener who grows into the real thing. Where his journey takes him is surprising, as he finds security in this adoptive family led by the radiant de Medeiros' astute Amalia. Cabaco also has a strong presence, and later on Katic adds a terrific kick as a fellow interloper.

At one point, Amalia recounts how she came to own this quinta. She also has a sad past that she keeps hidden, born in Angola but never allowed to claim her African identity, although she has found ways to maintain friendships and continue the stories. For her, the farm is both her freedom and her prison. And it is of course the same for Fernando. It isn't until she eventually asks to hear his story that he begins to understand who he is.

themes, language

1.Oct.26