Dans la chambre de Vanda

Unsurprisingly, it's pretty dull in those four walls. I say unsurprisingly because when it comes to serious boredom junkies are right up there with bankers, dentists, and interpretive dancers. Just a veritable cornucopia of solipsism with its attendant staring off into space, desultory, pointless conversation, coughing (lots of that), yelling, mumbling to oneself and more staring off into space. And, if that doesn't get the point across, director Pedro Costa thoughtfully provides the viewer with copious shots of Lisbon slum dwelling demolition. I lasted about an hour and fifteen and would have pulled the plug sooner had it not been for some of the most perversely lovely cinematography this side of a Caravaggio or a Zurburan.

Bottom line: Next time I wish to visit Portugal vicariously I'll crack open a can of sardines. C plus.

You could plainfully say this is a movie about drugs and people taking drugs but then you'd have to take a closer look and another and yet another. In Vanda's Room is not about consumption of the body, it's about what roots us here on this earth. But is it real life? You have to wander about the nature and relationship of the director with all those characters. Are they even real? They don't seem like real people, sometimes it seems they're acting, sometimes it's real life. Is this a documentary or is this fiction? What's the nature of life? You'll find out you get a lot more questions than answers at the end of this fabulous piece of art. This is the story of an perfectly organized world suffering a true invasion - my machines who come to tear the Fontaínhas neighbourhood down, by men who think this is a junkies place. It's a world of rules as they come, it's a world of emotional need like everyone else's. It's just those people take drugs but drugs are a way of searching for care and comfort. This is a place of people and lives of people who want a place to call their own, despite whats inside. Amidst drug consumption and beyond consumption there are people who mourn the loss of their homes, who gets sad for feeling unrooted. While Fontainhas implode, so is everyone's own world falls apart, slowly, despite their senseless existence - apparently. They've got a strategy, a way to survive, a way to love, a way to cope. In Vanda's room some of the Fontaínhas people go in and Vanda also moves around Fontaínhas. This is not a movie about a neighbourhood and it is, it's about the micro and the macro focus, with specific and universal feelings. In the end, we are all a house who implodes against will.

The fact that I watched this entire, nearly three-hour, film, despite the fact that it is basically a repetition of the same fifteen minutes over and over and over again, speaks volumes. The film is somehow intoxicating, even hypnotic, thus evoking the very sort of psychological affect which it portrays. Despite the fact that the film is extremely depressing and pointless, we continue on, just as the characters continue on with their depressing and pointless lives as they spend their days scraping heroin dust off of phone books and coughing like tuberculosis victims in between drags off of foil and cigarettes. The film, in other words, self-referentially reflects itself, which is probably why it received critical acclaim but is hated by some "ordinary" filmgoers.

This movie follows somehow in the wake of the Eye Cinema or Cinema of Truth (Dziga Vertov, Jean Rouch etc.) though with a much different and unusual subject: the everyday life of a group of drug addicts living in a degraded quarter of the outskirts of Lisbon. It's performed almost entirely by non-actors I mean by the drug addicts themselves who live before the camera as if it was not there, in a remarkable and genuine display of realism which impresses deeply our minds and feelings. These people whom we see verging slowly towards their own moral and physical ruin move before our eyes like ghosts still endowed with conscience and sentiments, capable of reasoning about their own disgrace in a very lucid way which makes us feel that we are in front of human beings after all, worth of our comprehension and compassion not to mention the fact of our own responsibility for that situation in this strange society we live in. This is the best movie about drug addicts I've ever seen and it should be seen mainly by those who persist in ignoring this problem or who think that it can be solved by fighting production and distribution of drugs instead of trying to fight consumption I mean deviating people chiefly youngsters from the inclination to consume drugs which will allow them to evade hardship and dullness of life. Although if it will be necessary to reform society for that purpose. The camera has apparently no leading role in this movie almost limiting itself to show us those people living (?) before our eyes. Their gestures, words, looks and above all their silences have so much weight on our hearts and minds that they are almost unbearable. After seeing this movie we can but feel that we all must do something and quickly.

Dark and intriguing as a hidden meandering well and beautiful like Venus on the half shell, this portraiture of humans living seamlessly in the safety of their adopted home had no real future in mind as they struggle to make ends meet day to day with a grace perhaps given by God himself. Their acceptance of unwavering need to support each other and eventually their need for altering the reality of being dug out of their lair-like homes seems to squeeze the youth and humor out of their souls and sadly transports it to the mysterious parchment they so avidly smoke as the ruination begins outside.

Oddly, it reminds me of certain times in my own childhood.