Pedro Sena Nunes

No description available.

No description available.

No description available.

No description available.

Every year, in the province with the highest rate of desertification in Portugal, thirteen villages of the border rejuvenate a bullfight with unique characteristics: the Capeia Arraiana. The butlers prepare they party and contribute to the ethnographic heritage, starting a ritual of emancipation where we can see confrontations with the force of the bull. Several men wear a rudimentary object made of wood, and fight the bulls that are brought in, often from Spain. The villages compete against each other in search of the Best Capeia of the Year.

Maria do Carmo discovers she is HIV positive. On impulse, she goes to the home of João, her former partner. Three lives, two relationships. Two women and one man.

No description available.

No description available.

There is a complex geo-human situation of isolation in Trás-os-Montes, a region in northeastern of Portugal. A used railroad bridge bought for only 22 villagers.

No description available.

No description available.

A Lady, Our Lady. A boy, entrusted to all of us. Son of the Mother. Children of one Mother. A place of prayer and devotion, due to its organization and layout, it exerts the intimidating power typical of a chapel. This is the video that depicts the Virgin Mary.

No description available.

An experimental/art-leaning short, screendance film in which four human characters appear stuck in an interior, futuristic landscape outside of time. As they struggle with themselves as well as with each other, they seem to reach upon dance (whether experienced or internalized, solitary or otherwise) as an instinctive/conceptual way out of an inescapable void.

No description available.

We’ve accustomed, erroneously, to furiously fear our body’s fragility. This fragility which is so controversial to us to the point of inducing in ourselves the typical and contained movements, already tired. Once, twice. The same movements, the fears, the counted expirations, the subtracted bodies, the blind horizons. But the day comes when we understand that the fragility is precious and that the movement’s arrhytmia is safe. And we dance, accomplices in the differences of a shared fall.

Four distinct individuals — a filmmaker charting an autumnal trail of leaves, a mysterious girl wandering through the labyrinths of creation, a woman immersed in poignant reminiscences of autumns past, and a man devoted to nurturing the void left by a departed tree — converge in the multifaceted, polymorphic realm of Jorge Listopad (1921-2017), poet, essayist, teacher, mentor, theatre and television director, husband and father.

Fallen to an aquatic world, they move ineffably in a dense, clear atmosphere as if it was their first autonomous moment.

Poti Pati is a film based on a monologue that a character has with himself—or with his double—the text challenges the characters, brings them closer together, punctuating it with body movement. The materiality of time is sought in the details of space and in the imaginary functioning of obsolete machines. Poti Pati expresses, in the polysemy of the monologue and in the migration of images between the observer and the observed, a challenge to the viewer-observer whose cinematic references are summoned.

A man is born again in the water. Perhaps the sea rejected him, inviting him to let himself be led by chance, in this no man's land. In a succession of events, his labyrinths of dreams and memories mix until he cannot distinguish what he sees, what he remembers, the world, and its representations.