Interview by Benjamin Poole
Avelina Prat's The Portuguese House follows Fernando, a geography professor who embarks on an impromptu trip to Portugal after his wife leaves him without any explanation. Along the way he meets Manuel, an itinerant gardener who tells him about his next destination. When Manuel dies unexpectedly from a heart attack Fernando assumes his identity and travels to that next Portugese house.
Thoughtful dialogue and nuanced performances by the cast including Manolo Solo and Maria de Medeiros help form a gentle and heartfelt meditation on family and friendships.
We caught up with Prat to discuss the film.
Hello Avelina! Before we begin I'd like to say thank you for The Portuguese House. I really enjoyed it and it hit me just right. I'd been having a bit of a difficult week and it was exactly what I needed! Such a gentle and human film. Thank you.
Fernando's decision to assume Manuel's identity is morally dubious, yet it feels strangely understandable. What interested you about the fantasy of simply stepping into another life and starting over? Personally, I read the film as a gentle meditation on midlife worries, with the film hopefully suggesting that new starts are possible. Is that a fair interpretation?
It is. There is the idea of a new start, of course. But the film also plays with the fantasy of being someone else, living somebody else's life. We all have had this fantasy at one point. Who would we like to be? Where would we live? What would we do?... That's one of the reasons why we like literature and cinema so much.
I'm writing this at the start of a Welsh autumn of grey skies, cold wind and insistent rain so you can imagine the escapism which the fresh summery settings offered me! How important was the landscape to Fernando's emotional journey?
Very important. But it is not only about beauty, peace or good weather (in fact in the North of Portugal it rains a lot!). It has to do with real connection. At the beginning of the film he tells his students that drawing the world is a good way to know it. He lives in a world of ideas, of concepts, of books and maps. When he arrives in Portugal and takes the place of the gardener, he has to literally put his hands into the soil, feel the wind, take care of the fruit trees... It is a very different way to connect with what surrounds him.
One of my favourite aspects of the film is that there is no obvious romantic subplot within the Quinta. Was it important for you to focus on friendship and companionship rather than romance?
Yes. I found it much more interesting and challenging to depict a friendship relationship. Amalia does not want a husband or a partner, she cares a lot about her independence, and Manuel is still trying to figure out who he is and healing his wound. They just let each other be, understanding without judging, sharing a time and a space. Along with Rita and her son, they form a quite peculiar, atypical family. Not necessarily blood related.
Several characters in the film are, in different ways, performing versions of themselves. What drew you to the idea of identity as something fluid rather than fixed?
For me identity is something mutable; it changes with all the experiences you live, all the people you meet, all the places you go to… Most of the characters in the film occupy a place that is different from their origins. They have left their country where they were born and started a life somewhere else, each one for different reasons. It is one of the main themes the film wants to explore.
The final section of the film feels quite different in tone and texture from the pastoral atmosphere of the Quinta, becoming almost Almodóvar-esque in its exploration of identity and reinvention. How did you approach balancing those two halves of the story?
There is a big twist in the last part, and even a new character appears. This was a big challenge, the risk of losing the audience was there. We chose a great actress (Branka Katic) who is completely different from Amalia (Maria de Medeiros) to create a new atmosphere and keep the film interesting. That part has a different tone (or maybe not that much) but it gives a lot of meaning to the main story and Manuel's inner journey.
The film now carries an added poignancy following the passing of Manolo Solo. Looking back on the production, what do you think he brought to Fernando as a character, and how would you like audiences to remember his contribution to the film?
It is quite rare but I had Manolo Solo in mind at the very beginning, while I was writing the script. He loved the character and we worked together all the details. Manolo Solo gave the character a depth that one could never find on a written script. With just the slightest of gestures, he managed to convey a great deal of emotion. Contained emotion. For me his work is part of the writing process of the film.
If you were approached to programme The Portuguese House as part of a triple bill, what would the other two films be and why?
The Other Side of Hope (Aki Kaurismaki, 2017)
For the type of characters he depicts, the special atmosphere he achieves and especially for the human way he looks at the outsider.
First Cow (Kelly Reichardt, 2021)
For the friendship that develops between the two main characters and how they deal with a new environment, and for the beautiful point of estrangement throughout the whole film.
The Portuguese House is in UK cinemas from October 2nd.