Diogo Costa Amarante

Welcome to Lisbon: there are mermaids by the Tagus and birds flying over the old city; there are mad scientists and singing fish; lost tourist guides and lost tourists; fado and sad guitars. What a weird city you may think - but no. Lisbon is about being different, sarcastic, welcoming to foreigners even in an economic crisis. Different directors became fascinated by our strangeness. We became fascinated by these directors. The city is never the same in these four episodes, here in Lisbon.

Short film.

Thirty-something Vítor still lives with his mother, Fátima, in his grandmother Júlia’s apartment. Fátima is a hairdresser with a quiet disposition who, at night, fantasises about the policeman who has just moved in next door. By day, Vítor is a lowly employee on a TV show. But at night, he dons his neighbour’s uniform to win the favour and satisfy the desires of a boy he’s met online. In her retirement home, Júlia is unable to sleep at night and has long forgotten what drugs she is meant to be taking. She misses her dead husband, who manifests himself in the body of a living friend, and gets involved in her daily activities. Through these characters, Diogo Costa Amarante constructs a fascinating portrait of lives lived while desires remain unrealised.

When the groom goes missing on the day of their wedding, the bride must put her faith in his godmother's off-color scheme to replace him at the altar without anyone noticing.

A lonely woman seizes an opportunity for intimacy when her epileptic neighbor comes knocking on her door.

How would it look like, the body of Dom Afonso Henriques, first king of Portugal, tutelary figure, subject to successive mythifications throughout Portuguese history?

No description available.

On a rainy night, a sad man leaves his home to deliver a letter to someone who recently left him. At a corner, he meets a woman who warns him about the slippery road. This is how I met Diana. Suffering from a heartbreak, Gonçalo falls from his motorbike.

A child plays Wii tennis while his parents divvy up and and pack the furniture. One camera angle, one perspective, one situation, with a strong emotional charge. The child is immersed in the virtual world of the game while the real world stays off-screen.

When six-year-old Frederico finds out at school that people die when their hearts stop beating, he is unable to sleep that night. The next day, his mother asks the teacher once again: Must children always be told the truth? Always?

A group of people dance at a sports ground to the music of Supertramp. The siblings take flowers to a grave in the deep snow, wearing floral wreaths in their hair. The father directs them. They embrace one another. Memories are invoked by pictures enclosed inside Gabriel's, the brother's, amulet. The mother is dead – how will they fill the void she left behind? Each individual family member tries to find their way, is obliged to redefine their course.

On a rainy night, a sad man leaves his home to deliver a letter to someone who recently left him. At a corner, he meets a woman who warns him about the slippery road. This is how I met Diana, two years ago, when I moved to central Porto and did not know where to park my scooter. I transformed this brief encounter into an allegory: suffering from a heartbreak, Gonçalo falls from his motorbike and is taken to the hospital. The letter is taken by fate to the hands of Diana who looks after him and cures his wounds. Rapidly they become friends. Love slaps dark visions and together they discover that plants always find their way to the light, like a lost letter ends up reaching its true addressee.

Camelia was born and grew up in a Romanian traveling circus, which belonged to her father. After his death, the circus disappears. Camelia decides to leave for Barcelona with her daughter Andrea. When there, they find a life made of halves.