The Final Destination franchise has always had a pact with the viewer: to provoke existential chills through improbable accidents and inevitable deaths. Those who have watched the previous films know what I’m talking about — it’s impossible not to quicken your pace when you see a log truck in front of you or rethink the idea of getting into a tanning bed. With Blood Ties, the sixth chapter in the saga, this pact is renewed with blood, fear and an unexpected touch of family emotion.
Directed by Zach Lipovsky and Adam B. Stein, and with a script written by Guy Busick (Scream 5 and 6), Lori Evans Taylor and Jon Watts, the new film surprises by leaving aside the groups of friends and betting on a narrative centered on a family haunted by a transgenerational curse. Young Stefanie (Kaitlyn Santa Juana) begins to have brutal visions involving the death of her loved ones. Seeking answers, she returns to her origins and finds in her grandmother Iris (played by Gabrielle Rose and Brec Bassinger, in flashbacks) the thread of a trauma that dates back to the 60s — an era in which fate also tried, in vain, to be fooled.
What elevates Blood Ties among the best in the franchise in relation to the last ones is precisely the script: cohesive, well-paced and emotionally anchored. The deaths here once again have a purpose. They are not just miraculous accidents — they are carefully planned omens to play with the viewer’s imagination. You leave the theater thinking twice before having a barbecue or even going to the hospital. The feeling of vulnerability returns with force.
The soundtrack is another asset of the film. It acts as a foreshadowing, creating a tension that pulses like a heartbeat about to stop. The direction, although competent in managing the scares, is flawed by an excess of artificiality in its initial sequences — especially in the tower scene, where the computer graphics compromise the immersion.
But Blood Ties is not only about scares. It is also about legacy. By bringing back Tony Todd as the iconic JB — now with a revealed origin story —, the film ties up loose ends and offers fans of the franchise a belated reward: the understanding that Death, in this universe, is an impersonal but vigilant entity. JB is the link between generations of survivors and also a reminder that no one escapes forever.
By opting for a blood bond as its emotional core, Final Destination 6 reinvigorates its mythology and reaffirms its relevance. It is a worthy, bloody and, above all, effective return. Because what really marks a good Final Destination film is not just how one dies — but how much these deaths make us fear for our own lives and think about them in everyday life.
You can find Final Destination 6 – Blood Ties in theaters starting next Thursday (May 15).
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Adapted from the play of the same name by Renata Mizrahi, Os Sapos is a film that moves between drama and comedy with disconcerting ease. Directed by Clara Linhart, the narrative unfolds in a bucolic setting that, paradoxically, harbors suffocating tensions and relationships marked by emotional toxicity.
The plot follows Paula (Talita Carauta), a woman in her late 40s who travels to a reunion with friends from high school, only to discover that the party has been canceled. Stuck in the place until the next day, she lives with Marcelo (Pierre Santos) and his closeted girlfriend, Luciana (Karina Ramil), as well as the couple next door, Cláudio (Paulo Hamilton) and Fabiana (Verônica Reis). Paula’s unexpected presence ends up acting as a catalyst to expose the frustrations and conflicts that these relationships carry.
The film’s greatest asset is its sharp look at love and its invisible bonds. Here, we are not dealing with idealized romanticism, but with love that imprisons, that undermines self-esteem and that is often confused with emotional dependence. Through agile dialogues and an almost theatrical atmosphere, Os Sapos delves into the fragility of human bonds, without providing easy answers.
Talita Carauta is the heart of the film. Known for her comedic roles, the actress surprises us by carrying the complexity of Paula with subtlety and intensity, dominating each scene without needing grand gestures or lines. Her presence guides us through a plot that unfolds, allowing viewers to feel the growing tension between the characters.
Renata Mizrahi’s script is spot on when it addresses power dynamics within relationships. The couple Cláudio and Fabiana, for example, embody the caricature of toxic love sustained by manipulation and insecurity. Marcelo and Luciana, on the other hand, represent the gray area of modern relationships, where the lack of commitment is not freedom, but rather a symptom of something deeper and more dysfunctional.
Winner of awards at the João Pessoa International Film Festival and recognized at international festivals, Os Sapos proves that a film doesn’t need major twists to be impactful. With a sharp cast and a script that provokes reflections on the emotional patterns we follow (often without realizing it), this tragicomedy establishes itself as an insightful portrait of human relationships.
Os Sapos is now in theaters. It’s worth checking out and reflecting on the relationships we choose (or accept) to live.
You can find Os Sapos at the biggest movie theaters.
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The Seed of the Sacred Fruit emerges as a richly layered work, reflecting not only the harrowing reality of contemporary Iran, but also the courageous determination of its director and screenwriter, Mohammad Rasoulof, who, with talent and creativity, managed to produce this film in an environment of oppression and censorship.
Made clandestinely, the work not only positions itself as a cry of cultural resistance, but also as a powerful personal account of his struggle against an authoritarian regime that persecutes him. Inspired by the tragic death of Mahsa Amini, which sparked a wave of protests for freedom in Iran, the film follows the life of Iman (Missagh Zareh), a judicial investigator whose world is dismantled by his paranoia and the corruption that surrounds him. When he realizes that his wife and daughters do not share his political views, Iman begins a spiral of distrust and family tension. As the conflict intensifies, the narrative transforms into a mirror of the social struggles that are taking place in the country.
What makes The Seed of the Sacred Fruit even more impressive is the context in which it was developed. Rasoulof, who has faced imprisonment and persecution for his works critical of the Iranian regime, devoted his efforts to making this film clandestinely, aware of the risks that this would entail. This courage is palpable in every frame, and the weight of his personal reality intertwines with the story he tells. Rasoulof does not simply narrate a fictional plot; he exposes the harsh realities of living in a state that persecutes and silences dissenting voices.
The script is meticulously crafted, using symbolism and metaphors that connect the family tragedy with the broader struggle for freedom in Iran. The interactions between the characters are nuanced, reflecting the psychological state of a nation facing oppression. The balance between fiction and reality is achieved with a sophistication that allows the viewer to experience the growing tension, where each choice the protagonist makes is a matter of life or death, not only for him, but for his family. Visually, the film is stunning, with shots that capture the beauty and agony of everyday Iranian life, creating an emotional connection that transcends culture and geography.
Rasoulof transforms a narrative of oppression into a profound exploration of family relationships. The disconnect between Iman and his daughters and wife represents not only the fragmentation of the nuclear family, but also how totalitarianism infiltrates and destroys human bonds. The struggle for freedom of expression and resistance to oppression are palpable in every scene, making the film an allegory of the human condition in times of crisis.
The Seed of the Sacred Fruit is a bold work that not only highlights the oppression faced in Iran, but also becomes a testament to creative resistance in the face of censorship. Mohammad Rasoulof’s courage in making this film is an act of courage that resonates with all those who defend freedom of expression. With a powerful narrative, the film challenges the audience to reflect on the fight for justice and the need for courage to resist.
You can find The Seed of the Sacred Fruit in Cinemas.
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Desde que Sean Baker surgiu no cenário cinematográfico com obras marcantes como Tangerina (2015) e Projeto Florida (2017), seu nome tem sido sinônimo de autenticidade e experimentação no cinema independente. Com Anora, Baker não só consolida seu status como um dos criadores mais ousados de sua geração, mas também abre caminho para a temporada de prêmios, posicionando seu novo filme como um forte concorrente ao Oscar de 2025 – especialmente após ser coroado com a Palma de Ouro em Cannes 2024.
Baker, que assina tanto o roteiro quanto a direção, prova novamente ser um exímio observador da humanidade, com um talento único para explorar e humanizar personagens marginalizados. Sob o pretexto de uma comédia romântica, ele constrói em Anora um filme que transborda crítica social, nuances emocionais e uma sensibilidade estética que é ao mesmo tempo crua e deslumbrante. O resultado é uma história que desconstrói o conto de fadas empacotado em Hollywood e entrega algo infinitamente mais real, mais doloroso e mais memorável.
O roteiro é um dos pilares mais fortes do filme. Sean Baker consegue equilibrar com diálogos naturalistas, momentos de leveza cômica e reflexões sobre poder, classe social e trabalho sexual. A protagonista Ani ou Anora, como é chamada ao longo do filme ganha profundidade e camadas como raramente se vê em personagens femininas. Interpretada por Mikey Madison em sua performance mais impactante até agora, Ani é uma protagonista complexa em todos os sentidos. Vivendo como trabalhadora do sexo no Brooklyn, Ani encara os desafios diários de sua rotina com uma mistura de pragmatismo e cuidado: fazendo piadas, comendo no meio do expediente e conversando com amigas, enquanto navega por um ambiente cercado de preconceitos.
A genialidade do roteiro está em construir sua trajetória sem didatismos ou paternalismos. Ani, com sua personalidade forte e vulnerável, não é apresentada como vítima absoluta nem como heroína, mas como uma mulher cuja humanidade é mostrada em cada cena. Madison entrega uma interpretação recheada de nuances, mesclando força e ingenuidade. É impossível não se conectar com sua Ani, uma personagem cujas escolhas imprudentes têm consequências trágicas, mas que nunca perde sua dignidade. A relação da personagem com Ivan (Mark Eydelshteyn), o filho de um oligarca russo, revela a disparidade crua entre aqueles que sofrem com a desigualdade social e aqueles que permanecem acima de quaisquer consequências.
Sean Baker não se contenta em contar uma história; ele transforma Anora em uma experiência cinematográfica quase tátil. A direção é precisa, criativa e permeada por uma energia que captura tanto o caos quanto a esperança de sua narrativa. Baker sabe perfeitamente quando desacelerar para explorar os momentos mais íntimos – entre Ani e suas amigas ou mesmo suas interações mais vulneráveis com Ivan – e quando escalar a trama para o puro absurdo.
No segundo ato, quando a família de Ivan entra na história e uma comitiva de capangas chega ao Brooklyn para anular o casamento do casal, Baker eleva a comédia ao limite do tragicômico. O caos instaurado nas situações – tragicômicas e absurdas – que se seguem é um triunfo criativo, ao mesmo tempo em que serve como veículo para uma crítica contundente às dinâmicas de poder. Baker expõe o ridículo dessas situações, mas nunca de forma gratuita, usando o exagero como forma de intensificar o impacto emocional e crítico do longa.
A fotografia é, simplesmente, espetacular. O filme transita entre momentos de intensa intimidade e sequências grandiosas embaladas pela vibrante estética neon do Brooklyn. A fotografia captura a pulsação da cidade: é ao mesmo tempo elétrica e sufocante, delicada e brutal. Sean Baker sabe como usar a paleta de cores saturada para amplificar a viagem emocional de sua protagonista – seja nos tons quentes que iluminam uma noitada de sonhos com Ivan ou os tons frios e desolados que refletem as duras investidas do mundo ao redor de Ani.
A trilha sonora também brilha como um elemento-chave. Sua força vai além de complementar a narrativa; ela é uma extensão dos eventos do filme, capaz de carregar peso dramático em cenas silenciosas e intensificar o ritmo das sequências mais caóticas. A escolha precisa de cada faixa, como TATU na trilha sonora é um golpe de mestre: ao mesmo tempo nostálgica e provocativa, sua presença musical ressoa de forma poderosa, contribuindo para um ambiente que mistura o clássico e o moderno, o leve e o pesado.
Embora Anora seja vendido como uma comédia romântica – e, em determinados momentos, flerte com esse tom –, é na desconstrução do gênero que a obra realmente brilha. Baker utiliza as convenções do conto de fadas moderno para expor a disparidade de classes e as injustiças intrínsecas entre aqueles que têm poder e aqueles que vivem à margem.
Ivan, o filho de uma família rica que age com desdém sobre suas ações, é o completo oposto de Ani, que precisa lidar com todas as consequências de suas escolhas. Enquanto ele retorna para a Rússia sem nenhuma marca de sua experiência, ela é deixada para recolher os pedaços da vida que tentou construir. O filme não dá respostas fáceis nem oferece conforto. O final é desconfortável, porém autêntico, refletindo de forma honesta as desigualdades de um mundo onde poder e privilégio ditam as regras.
Anora não é apenas um grande filme; é uma obra que reafirma o talento de Sean Baker. Em um ano competitivo, é difícil imaginar que o filme não continue ganhando atenção na temporada de prêmios. É um filme que transcende os rótulos, ao mesmo tempo acessível e desafiador, comédia e drama, deslumbrante e desconfortável.
Você encontra Anora a partir do dia 23 de Janeiro nos Cinemas.
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Conclave, the latest adaptation of Robert Harris’ renowned book, directed by Edward Berger, which premiered at the 2024 Rio Festival as one of the big surprises and quickly became a strong contender for awards, including the Golden Globes. With a strong cast led by Ralph Fiennes and Isabella Rossellini, the film transports us to the secrets and intrigues that permeate the process of choosing a new pope, an event that takes place in the shadows of the Sistine Chapel, amidst burning ballots and white smoke.
“The throne of Santa Fe is vacant”
The plot unfolds after the unexpected death of a beloved pope, when Cardinal Thomas Lawrence (Fiennes) is entrusted with the immense responsibility of leading the conclave, a tradition of isolation and secrecy that dates back eight centuries. In an environment full of internal pressures, Lawrence quickly realizes that he is not only dealing with the selection of a new spiritual leader, but also finds himself immersed in a labyrinth of conspiracies and secrets that could shake the foundations of the Catholic Church.
Edward Berger’s direction captures the palpable tension in the corridors of the Vatican, from the reverent silence of the Sistine Chapel to the strategic whispers of ambitious leaders. Peter Straughan’s script balances thought-provoking dialogue with moments of reflection on the role of the Church in contemporary times.
“40 years without an Italian pope”
One of the strengths of “Conclave” is undoubtedly its art direction and photography. The unique atmosphere of the Vatican is portrayed with rich detail, creating a setting that not only serves as a backdrop, but as a separate character that influences the unfolding of the story. On the other hand, the film also provokes controversy. The reaction of the American bishop Robert Barron, who called for a boycott of the film, illustrates the impact that Conclave can have on the Catholic public. His criticism, which highlights a negative view of the Church’s hierarchy, points to an exposed nerve: the internal dynamics of the institution. However, it is precisely this internal division between progressives and traditionalists, which the film boldly addresses, that makes the narrative a relevant and pertinent theme.
Conclave does not shy away from discussing contemporary issues such as the role of women in the Church and the social changes that are at stake. By placing its characters in situations that challenge the traditional order, the film invites the viewer to reflect on the need for adaptation and transformation in a historic institution. Although the film embraces a critical perspective, it is also an invitation to dialogue on these issues, a journey that scrutinizes the ethos of the contemporary Catholic Church. The performances of Fiennes and Rossellini are powerful, bringing depth and complexity to characters who navigate this sea of ambition and faith.
In short, Conclave is a bold and visually impressive piece of cinema that, in addition to telling an intriguing story, provokes reflections on contemporary issues and the essence of power.
You can watch Conclave in theaters starting January 23rd.
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A Real Pain is a remarkable feature film written, directed, produced and starring Jesse Eisenberg, which was screened at the 2024 Rio Festival. This comedy-drama provides us with a deeply emotional experience by addressing themes such as grief, memory and the complexities of generations of immigrants.
The film follows two cousins who leave the United States for a trip to Poland in an attempt to reconnect with their Jewish roots. Kieran Culkin, whose performance has already won him a Golden Globe recently, steals the show with a performance that is both hilarious and moving. If in Succession his character Roman Roy was a figure full of irony and tension, here Culkin delivers something more multidimensional. His expression is always alive, oscillating quickly between irony, comedy and playful hostility, as he encapsulates the complexity of human pain and humor. Eisenberg allows the film to be frequently dominated by Culkin’s performance.
There are many close-ups of Culkin, slowly revealing the hidden emotional layers, giving us moments where it seems possible to see his future older self and his past/present marked by pain, a timeless figure who could be any age. This directorial touch reveals the depth of pain and authentic experience that permeates the entire film.
But what makes A Real Pain a unique experience is the immersion in the “in-between” — the vast window of self-discovery that inhabits the silence of the curtains opening and closing on a show. Through a journey filled with memories and architectural landscapes of Poland, historical and personal recognition becomes palpable as the cousins explore everything from concentration camps to monuments of celebration, transforming the sightseeing tour into a journey of reverence and contemplation.
Amidst the laughter and tears, the film is, in fact, an ode to the pains of the soul, showing us how to laugh amid the tragic moments of adulthood. Eisenberg challenges us to see loneliness not just as isolation, but as an opportunity for solitude and a new perspective on grief. He uses his lack of social tact and quirky humor to deliver a captivating narrative about two cousins who live in different moments but find common ground in their search for their roots.
A Real Pain invites the viewer to embark on an emotional narrative that is less about how it all ends, but about the journey itself – the path between the beginning and the end, where life really happens. The film, with its individual character and distinctive identity, transforms life’s losses into comedy and contemplation, bringing to light the beauty in pain and rebirth. After all, we are all survivors because living is surviving real pain.
You can find A Real Pain in theaters starting January 30th.
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The fascinating world of opera and the tragic life of its greatest star, Maria Callas, are brought to life in the biographical drama Maria, directed by Pablo Larraín and written by Steven Knight. Known for bringing complex stories of remarkable women to the big screen, as seen in Jackie and Spencer, Larraín once again delivers a compelling narrative alongside screenwriter Steven Knight.
Angelina Jolie’s performance as the lead promises to be a major performance of the year, potentially heading for an Oscar nomination for Best Actress. Maria focuses on the final week of the life of the legendary Greek-American soprano, whose career was marked by impeccable bel canto technique, powerful vocal range and profound psychological interpretations.
Through Larraín’s delicate direction, we follow Callas not only in her craft, but also in the delusions caused by Mandrax abuse, which, combined with a solitary life, contrast sharply with her love for the adoration of the public. “I’m not hungry. I come to restaurants to be adored.” The plot delves into intimate issues, revealing the devastating effects of Callas’s loneliness and her complex love for the magnate Aristotle Onassis. Jolie’s performance is highlighted not only by the extensive training she underwent to capture Callas’s posture, breathing, accent and singing, but also by her ability to convey the singer’s anguish and vulnerability at her weakest moments. Jolie’s performance is subtle and powerful.
The film stands out for its visual construction. The cinematography and editing are combined, alternating between black and white footage and color scenes. The close-ups of Maria and historical videos of her performances bring an authenticity that immerses the viewer in the reality of that time. The opera scenes are meticulously recreated, transporting the audience to the memorable stages of London, Milan and Paris. Also noteworthy are the performances of Haluk Bilginer and Valeria Golino, who, as supporting characters, add additional layers to the drama of Callas’s real life. They complement Maria’s emotional journey.
Maria is more than just a simple biography; is a sensitive portrait of a woman whose life was as full of glory as it was of pain. Pablo Larraín and Angelina Jolie have created a work that not only honors the memory of Maria Callas, but also highlights the complexity of her legacy.
With awards season approaching, it’s fair to say that Maria is positioning herself as a contender, especially in the categories of Best Actress and perhaps Best Director. Jolie’s performance has already earned her a Golden Globe nomination. In short, “Maria” is a film that offers a rare and intimate view of one of the most iconic voices in world opera and presents a cinematic work that is, at the same time, visually stunning and emotionally impactful.
You can find Maria in theaters starting January 16th.
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Bolero, The Mystery of Ravel, directed by Anne Fontaine, was selected for the 15th edition of the Varilux French Film Festival 2024. The film boasts impeccable production, with an appropriate cast, meticulously recreated period costumes and sets, and clear dialogue that elucidates the plot. However, this precision and assurance can be seen as an overly summarized approach and perhaps stifling in terms of narrative potential.
Bolero is set in 1928, during the vibrant and crazy years of Paris, when dancer Ida Rubinstein commissions Maurice Ravel to compose a composition for her next ballet. Facing a crisis of inspiration, the film takes us on a journey through the chapters of Ravel’s life, expertly played by Raphaël Personnaz, including his early challenges, the scars of the Great War, and an unrequited love for his muse Misia Sert. Ravel, a complex and Cartesian figure, is portrayed as a remarkably sensitive man devoted to music – to the point of declaring that he never married because he was married to music.
Despite the impeccable setting and good narrative intentions, the film often succumbs to an approach that does not fully explore the emotional and psychological potential of its characters. There are several possible films within this one, each more provocative than the last, but they all seem stifled of their unique possibilities by this summary approach. Ravel’s sexual repression, for example, is underutilized; his lack of carnal impulse is reduced to unrequited gestures of affection or an inability to express his true feelings. This explosion of possibility is treated merely as a backdrop, failing to reach the necessary emotional climax.
The film also fails to deeply explore Ravel’s intellectual and emotional perception of the ballerina’s artistic work, evidencing a perceptual gap between him and dance from a purely intellectual point of view. Such nuances are present and available to the attentive eye, but Fontaine’s direction, although competent, does not dedicate them the attention they deserve, preferring to maintain a safe and linear narrative in a “safe zone”.
Bolero is a pleasant film, which knows how to seduce the viewer with its mixture of captivating lightness and beauty. However, it reveals itself to be a work without great narrative scares, but also without great provocations. Anne Fontaine, in constructing the biography of Maurice Ravel, delivers us a visually splendid work, but one that seems content to remain on the surface of the character’s drama, instead of delving into the depths of his emotional complexities.
Distributed in Brazil by Mares Filmes and with a free age rating, the film, despite its sophisticated pretensions and meticulous study of the period, could have been a more intimate and penetrating study of Ravel.
You can find Bolero at the Varilux Festival 2024.
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Until the next text.
Portrait of a Certain Orient is an adaptation of the award-winning novel Relato de um Certo Oriente by Milton Hatoum. The plot begins in 1949, when the Lebanese Catholic siblings Emilie and Emir leave a Lebanon on the brink of war, embarking towards the unknown Brazil. During the crossing, Emilie falls in love with the Muslim merchant Omar, arousing the uncontrollable jealousy of Emir, who blames the Muslims for the tragic death of his parents. The journey becomes even more dramatic when a fight between Emir and Omar results in an accidental gunshot that seriously injures Emir. Emilie, desperate, seeks help in an indigenous village in the Amazon jungle to save her brother’s life. Once recovered, they continue to Manaus, where Emilie’s choices lead to tragic consequences.
Shot in stunning black and white, Pierre de Kerchove’s cinematography is one of the film’s greatest strengths. Each scene is carefully crafted. The close-ups bring a powerful intimacy, allowing the audience to connect deeply with the characters’ emotions. At various moments, the photography refers to the works of Sebastião Salgado, transporting the viewer to an “Amazonian scene” of rare beauty.
Marcelo Gomes, whose filmography includes works such as Cinema, Aspirinas e Urubus and Viajo porque preciso, Volto porque te amo, once again demonstrates his ability to translate complex and human stories to the cinema. The adaptation of “Relato de um Certo Oriente” is handled with delicate sensitivity, balancing fidelity to the literary text with an inventive cinematic approach. Gomes manages to transform the memories and streams of consciousness of the novel into a visually rich and emotionally charged narrative.
The subtle and evocative soundtrack perfectly complements the aesthetics of the film, where sound is often present in nature. Instead of dominating the narrative, the music works in harmonious synergy with the cinematography, highlighting moments of tension and introspection without ever distracting the audience from the central story.
In addition to the cinematography, the performances are another pillar of Portrait of a Certain Orient. Wafa’a Celine Halawi offers a multifaceted and profound Emilie, while Zakaria Kaakour and Charbel Kamel bring intensity and authenticity to their roles. The participation of Rosa Peixoto and her family, borrowing indigenous rituals and customs, adds a valuable cultural contrast to the plot. The narrative addresses issues of memory, tradition and identity in a way that resonates deeply.
Portrait of a Certain Orient is an intimate study of memory, passion and prejudice, immersed in the context of Lebanese immigration in the Brazilian Amazon. The work is a warm homage to the emotional and cultural complexity of Milton Hatoum’s novel, translated to the screen with sublime mastery by Marcelo Gomes.
Marcelo Gomes delivers an intimate epic that remains faithful to the spirit of the original novel, while creating something profoundly new and admirable.
You can find Portrait of a Certain Orient in cinemas from November 21st.
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Avenida Beira-Mar, the latest feature film by Maju de Paiva and Bernardo Florin, is a work that redefines the coming of age genre through an authentic and sensitive look at adolescence, family relationships and the search for identity. The film arrives with significant weight, supported by the ELAS Seal of Elo Studios, which aims to promote gender equality in audiovisual media.
The plot revolves around Mika, a young woman who searches for her identity amidst the rigidity and lack of understanding of her parents, contrasting with her redefinition of the use of clothes left by her older sister, who no longer lives in the same house. In an emotional twist, Mika meets Rebeca, a new friend who transforms both of their lives.
The friendship between the two girls, against all odds, creates the driving force of the narrative. Instead of the predictable abyss caused by their differences, they build a bond of complicity and mutual support. However, the adults’ small and prejudiced view of this friendship triggers a series of dramatic events, transforming the quiet Avenida Beira-Mar into a stage for confrontations.
Maju de Paiva and Bernardo Florin demonstrate remarkable direction, focusing on intimate atmospheres and developing characters with depth. This competence was recognized at the Guadalajara International Film Festival, where they won the award for Best Director.
The script, which had already been recognized at FRAPA 2018 and other festivals, adds value to the film. The dialogues are strong and genuine at the same time, and the dramatic situations reverberate the essence of everyday life, but with a touch that invites reflection.
Avenida Beira-Mar stands out not only for its narrative, but also for the movement it represents. The ELAS Cabíria Telecine 2020 Seal Award, the Maguey Award and the participation in the Festival Des 3 Continents, in Nantes, confirm the importance and relevance of the film on the international scene.
Maju and Bernardo explain that the project was born from the desire to present new protagonists who belong to our universe, instead of the golden image of childhood often portrayed in American films. The journey of Mika, Rebeca and Marta reflects our search for belonging and mutual understanding, celebrating what we have in common.
Avenida Beira-Mar is a film that not only navigates the turbulent waters of adolescence, but also challenges traditionally plasticized narratives by bringing to light stories that need to be told with empathy. Reminding us of the power of cinema as a tool for identification and connection, offering a mirror to experiences that, although individual, are deeply human.
With a promising direction, a sensitive script and a powerful message, the feature film is essential for everyone.
You can find Seaside Avenue in cinemas from November 21st.
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