All language subtitles for Retratos.Fantasmas.2023.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H264-DODEN.en

♫ You say you do ♫

♫ You understand me ♫

♫ You say you don't ♫

♫ Don't give me away
Don't sell me ♫

♫ You won't leave me
Won't let me go ♫

♫ But you leave ♫

♫ You left!
Left hurting♫

♫ You left!
Left cold ♫

♫ You left!
And left me on the streets ♫

♫ You left!
You swear, swear ♫

♫ Swore!
You despise me ♫

♫ Despise!
You turn the corner ♫

♫ Corner!
And leave me afloat ♫

♫ float, float, float ♫

♫ You ♫

♫ Get sick ♫

♫ Take a smile ♫

♫ You're wrong, but go ahead ♫

♫ For me ♫

♫ There's no way ♫

♫ There's no final kiss ♫

♫ There won't be a happy ending ♫

♫ There won't be a happy ending ♫

♫ There won't be a happy ♫

♫ There won't be a happy ending ♫

♫ There won't be a happy ♫

♫ There won't be ♫

This photo by Alcir Lacerda.

It's from the 60s,

from the church square of
Boa Viagem, south of Recife.

This is the Boa Viagem hotel,

which was a notable point

until its demolition in the 2000s.

The Boa Viagem hotel
can be seen in these images

with Janet Leigh and her daughters,

on a visit to Recife, in the early 60s.

The square has changed a lot.

In the 70's,

my small family came to
live in this area of the beach.

In fact, 250 meters away from the beach.

Right here, where there
used to be mangroves.

Apartment 102...

Pioneiro building, number 207,

on José Moreira Leal Street,

Setúbal neighborhood, in Recife.

The building, from 1972, only
has one floor, without pilot is.

A solid and discreet construction.

The apartment is upstairs, at
the back, away from the street,

where it is quieter.

There are three bedrooms in this apartment.

A suite, living room,

social bathroom...

kitchen pantry.

Previously, the apartment
had a maid's room,

that my mother, Joselice,

transformed, opening a wall.

First, in an office. And then
somewhere to watch a movie.

I was ten years old when we
came to live in this apartment,

which my mother bought through
the federal loan Bank in 1979.

And this new house meant

a fresh start in life for my mother,

shortly after the separation
from my father, Kleber.

Joselice, my mother, was a historian.

She studied the abolitionists

Joaquim Nabuco and André
Rebouças, in 19th century Brazil.

At the Joaquim Nabuco
Foundation, where he worked,

they joked that she cheated
on Nabuco with Rebouças,

of whom she had a framed
print on her wall at home.

Joselice said that this joke
had a strong Brazilian flavor.

Years after his death, I received this tape

from a co-worker of hers, at
Fundação Joaquim Nabuco.

A hell of a present.

It's a Globo report from 1981,

where she talks about the
technique of oral history.

Joselice, what will the hydroelectric
company research and oral history be like?

Through oral history,
we collect information

that didn't go down in history.

Part to make an assessment
of the interviewee's life,

and part somewhat autobiographical.

And then we need to verify

and collect the data that we
want to collect from that person.

It may seem like I'm
talking about methodology,

but I'm talking about love.

Today, when I remember my mother,

and also from this apartment,

I understand how this place
was radically changed by her.

Twice.

The first time was in the late 80s.

And I think there was

a feeling of euphoria and uncertainty.

Me with my mother on
the street, close to home,

in the 1989 elections.

We voted together again, in 1994.

A year before my mother died,
when she was 54 years old.

When Joselice fell ill,

em 1992,

I saw she had in this apartment

an extension of her strength.

And that's how Joselice did a
second renovation of the place.

It's like the apartment became a house.

Like it undergone surgery

aggressive and also restorative.

Joselice gave it to my brother, Múcio,

at the time a 20-year-old
architecture student,

the mission to change our home.

It was the first project
my brother designed.

A beautiful work, with at least one
young reference to Oscar Niemeyer.

In the 2000s,

this place has changed again.

And all these years,

I was learning how time changes places.

Look what a beautiful photo.

Martin and Tomás, or. Here, Thomas!

Jeez! What a beautiful photo, damn it!

Look.

I want to see!

One way or another,

I lived in this place for 40 years.

Ok!

Recording!

Cut.

This apartment was also

the place where I started making films.

- Less scary, right?
- Yes.

I probably made between
ten and thirteen films.

Beach means paradise...

The focus of this camera
is zero, see, Kleber?

It's OK.

- It's OK.
- Okay, the carpet is gone.

It was filmed, I think, from every angle,

in every room,

during

twenty years, I would say.

Some people saw my films and asked...

"What do you see so much on that street,

in that neighborhood of
Setúbal, in that apartment?"

Sidiclei, wake up!

The answer is because it was
the place where I lived, right?

It was because Joselice encouraged me to do

my films, in the way I could make my films.

It was our home, it was handy.

Yes! Here, for posterity.

The neighbors were extras.

They thought it was funny, I guess.

Cut.

We also filmed

in the next-door neighbor's apartment.

It was good to transform the house

in a crowd, in a workshop, in a studio.

I told Pedro Sotero

and Fabrício Tadeu, the
photographers of Neighboring Sounds,

that I wanted to try
photographing the street at night,

no special movie moon,

which is kind of a silly idea, actually.

They showed me that it is possible.

But when I saw the images, I thought it
would be better to light the entire street.

It's when you combine the
usual with the cinema image.

And then it looks like a movie.

Come work a little.

Mariá, this is Sofia.

- Sofia, Maria.
- How are you, Sofia?

All good.

- Do you have coffee, Mariá?
- Yes, I'm finishing it.

I need it.

There was a time when Maeve came to dinner.

with those glasses,

trying to look smarter.

And I thought it was funny

that she was sitting in the same place

from the dinner scene,
in Neighboring Sounds.

What's this?

What's this?

A guy had entered the neighboring house

to steal the gas cylinder.

And later, of course, we dramatized
what had happened, with the phone.

For many years, I photographed
the apartment and the neighborhood.

Once I took a photo of a ghost, a presence.

The photo was of the
apartment's living room,

but with a figure that I don't know who is.

I still don't know how this figure

ended up in my camera, or in my film.

What I know is that this
image started circulating

and friends and people I knew
wanted to take me to a spiritist church.

They thought I was a medium.

Psst!

A few years ago, I came
home from the cinema

with Emily, on a Sunday night.

I sat at the kitchen
table to smoke a cigarette

and, suddenly, I heard a bark
that I hadn't heard in years.

It was the barking of Nico, the
dog from the neighboring house.

There was just one problem: Nico had died.

He died about two years after
Neighboring Sounds was finished.

Can't sleep, mom?

No.

He'll be barking...

I stood up, hearing Nico's howls and barks

and suddenly I understood that the film

was on Rede Globo, on national television,

and that the neighbors
were watching the film.

And Nico...

had become a ghost.

Nico made a cameo too

in another film of mine, spontaneously.

I must have recorded
the sound of Nico barking

and howling for a few years.

Sometimes I...

I couldn't believe how a
dog could bark so much.

He barked because he
spent the weekend alone,

that is, he spent the weekend

barking.

I tried to talk to the owners of
the house, but nothing came of it.

The neighbors always found a way to say

that Nico wasn't a problem
and was actually an asset.

They argued that if Nico barks...

there's no burglar.

This shot of Nico lying down
appeared short while ago.

Look at this here.

The neighbors' house
was taken over by termites,

which ended up contaminating our building

and also our apartment.

Bastard.

And the termites ended up

in my other film: Aquarius.

It happened that the
neighboring house with a pool,

built in the 70s...

was taken over by termites,

which took down the entire kitchen roof.

And after so many years,

the house became bald,

right in front of our room.

And the house fell into decay,

and nature realizes this,

and occupies the space.

I really like animals.
I like dogs and cats.

But these cats took over
and bothered us. Holy shit!

That net on the window
is because of the cats.

And finally, this.

The transformation of
the house into a bunker.

For me, the house was
never the same after Nico.

The films were picturing
the neighborhood behavior.

And the camera approaches...

We were so young...

we didn't know what
life was, and what love was.

We just knew...

We only knew about the Rolling Stones.

Serra Talhada

You don't leave my thoughts...

We were so young...

No, that building is fine.
It's the building next door.

There! This one, look.

It's gotten a lot worse,
give the flag a twist.

- Alright, turn on the max.
- Turn on the max.

Turn that fucking max on.

Where there was no fence
before, now there is a fence.

In the past, you came from the street and
entered the building. There was no gate.

Mr. Clodoaldo.

- Thank you, Ms. Bia.
- You are welcome.

Do I put your name or
Ricardo's name on the receipt?

- I won't need it.
- Thanks for the coffee.

You are welcome. Don't mint it.
If you need anything let me know.

I always thought it was strange,

because the neighborhood
of Setúbal never seemed

especially dangerous.

Camera.

He was.

This house has always
been my favorite on the street.

The only one in the area
that has a short fence,

the large glass windows don't have bars.

It's a phenomenon.

At the time of shooting Neighboring Sounds,

the owner told me that,
because of the short fence,

and the glass windows
that overlook the garden,

No one ever tried to get into her house.

Very well. My name is
Clodoaldo Pereira dos Anjos.

Great pleasure. All good?
Your name?

Sometimes people ask

if what they see in
the film is art direction.

No. It's not art direction.

Or, depending on the
situation, I would sometimes lie.

"Of course it's art direction."

And the person was impressed.

Look at this other house, behind the wall.

A friend lived here in the 80s.

When I went looking for images of my house

To make this assembly,

I saw that there is a common apartment

and the cinema apartment.

♫ Yours, all yours ♫

♫ Mine, all mine ♫

♫ Together, tonight ♫

♫ I want to give you all my love ♫

♫ - All my life - Yes! ♫

♫ I looked for you ♫

♫ Today, I'm happy ♫

♫ With you who is everything I dreamed of ♫

♫ Oh, I love you ♫

♫ Oh, I love you My love ♫

♫ Oh, I love you ♫

♫ And my blood boils for you ♫

♫ Oh, I love you ♫

♫ Oh, I love you My love ♫

♫ Oh, I love you ♫

♫ And my blood boils for you... ♫

I love the downtown of Recife.

I love the downtown of Recife.

I cut it off and then put it back

this line twice in the film,

thinking it was redundant to say that.

But then I remembered that we
have to talk when we like someone.

The center of a city can
resemble many other cities.

Katia Mesel.

My relationship with the center
goes through the cinemas.

Between the ages of
13 and 25, more or less,

I went downtown to watch
movies several times a week.

Deep Throat 2.

The center is a place

that part of the city seems
to have forgotten it exists.

It has a decadent atmosphere, of
someone who has been abandoned

without much explanation.

There are a lot of young people who
have never even been to the center.

Not even at carnival.

But one thing that cannot be denied
is that the money went elsewhere.

I heard someone say once

The problem with the center is
that it doesn't have air conditioning.

I have a sentimental
map of the city center.

Separated by the polluted Capibaribe river,

and marked by streets and cinemas.

The Art Palácio and
Trianon were on Sol Street...

facing the great rival, on
the other side of the river,

São Luiz, on Aurora Street.

Face to face, the three
looking at each other,

face to face, in the Sun and the Dawn.

Most of these theaters
no longer exist, of course.

This is Joaquim Nabuco,

the abolitionist.

This map covers an area of the city

which has streets like Longing Street,

Hospice Street and Nymphs Street.

Hunger Alley and Photographer Alley.

Livro 7, a large bookstore,
also no longer exists.

"The freedom for the
customer to choose their book."

It became a church.

But the center is also very blunt.

It has that "if you don't
like me, fuck it" vibe.

There are people who think
that the city center is dead.

A friend once wrote
that the center of Recife

smells like the sea,

fruit

and piss.

Jomard Muniz de Britto
and Antônio Cadengue.

The center probably smelled like that

even when money used to flow over here.

Cláudio Assis and Matheus Nachtergaele.

Janet Leigh and Tony Curtis.

I found these images:

me, in the entrance hall of Art Palácio,

the week the cinema was closing,

in July 92.

Some 30 years later,

I received these photos
from the same place,

but taken a few days before
the cinema opened in 1940.

At least around 30 million people

passed through this place
in more than 50 years.

I followed the last two
years of Art Palácio,

photographing and filming
the place with a VHS camera.

At the time, I was a student.

- Do you have two Cruzeiros?
- No, no.

Do you have a thousand Cruzeiros?

It was a little like

being on a ship that is
being prepared to be sunk.

At times it felt like a
factory full of old machines.

It was at Art Palácio that I met
Alexandre Moura. Mr Alexandre.

The projection booth was
hot and had no air conditioning.

Alexandre sometimes worked shirtless

and sat or laid on the floor,

which was more refreshing
than sitting in the chair.

A gentle breeze is coming in,
so we won't be dying.

I screened The Godfather here.

I worked on The Godfather,

was in theaters here for
about four months.

Wasn't The Godfather
on TV the other day?

Right, my children?

I listened to the music so much

that I couldn't stand it.

On the last day of screening
The Godfather, I couldn't stand it.

It was that...

It was that anxiety of finishing the film.

Then I went to Trianon.

And at that time I was young!

I went to Trianon, the guy
from Trianon came here

to finish the film,
because I couldn't stand it.

You spend four months watching a movie.

I never forgot Mr Alexandre telling

how he dealt with censorship
during the dictatorship.

Then two pals arrived.

"The movie is under arrest, ok?"

Opened the booth. "Who are you?"

"I'm Federal Police.
The film is under arrest."

"It's all right, I go home early."

I had a dream once,

where Alexandre opened the projector cover

and the light made he disappear, like...

Like in Terminator 2,

which he projected at the
premiere, with a packed cinema.

Mr Antonio?

Wow, there's no one.

Antonio!

Antonio!

After so many years, I never got permission

to enter and see the
ruins of the Art Palácio.

There's a good side to this.

When I remember this cinema, I
immediately remember Mr Alexandre,

who passed away in 2002.

Have I ever told you
what that window is for?

- What was it for?
- No.

For the announcer.

When it's an art film.

When it's an art film, there's an announcer
there from News Radio, or any...

Any radio. Now, an announcer
who speaks well, you know?

And when did he speak?

When the film was being screened.

The film being screened and him
speaking during the session, right?

- Into the cinema?
- Into the cinema.

It wasn't for radio, no. It was for
the cinema, for the viewer.

Now, that art film, right?

There were only people...

What did he say, exactly?

About... About the film, right?

The film does this, that, right?

That Reich film, that extraordinary thing.

- Strange thing...
- Yeah.

When it was announced
Art Palácio was closing

and the neighbor, Trianon,

I asked Alexandre

if he would come to work on
the last night of the cinema.

A Tuesday, that's me.

I'm the one who's going to close it.

I'm going to close the
cinema with a key of tears.

Yes my son. Crying!

I'm going to close the cinema with...

the key of tears.

Mr. Alexandre told me once

of a German manager of
the Art Palácio, during the war.

Making this film now, I finally
put the pieces together.

What an incredible story!

The Art Palácio was
designed to be a Ufa cinema,

the great German studio that was an arm

of Goebbels and Hitler's
Nazi propaganda in the 1930s.

The Germans saw the possibility
of expanding Nazi propaganda

in two strategic cities in Brazil:

São Paulo and Recife,

during the government of Getúlio Vargas,

who had a sympathy for
the Nazi-fascist regime.

Recife also received 67 times,

between 1930 and 1937...

the German machines Graf
Zeppelin and the Hindenburg.

São Paulo and Recife, each
with its Art Palace, from Ufa,

designed by architect Rino Levi,
who was, by the way, Jewish.

The office used to be here.

- Isn't it still?
- Not anymore. But it was in general.

Mr Alexandre was talking about
the German manager at the time.

Gunter, if I'm not mistaken.

It's a hiding place here, which
will come out on the counter, right?

During wartime, the
German hid under there too.

Any problem, he hid.

He played "all is well", right?

With the war,

the plans of the Art Palácio,
in the Trianon building,

being a Ufa project were abandoned.

In any case, space was explored

by exhibitor and distributor Art Films,

of the Italian immigrant Ugo Sorrentino,

that, since 1931,

was the exclusive distributor
of Ufa films in Brazil.

And continued to be, until 1941.

Months later, Brazil finally cut

trade relations with Hitler's Germany.

These buildings remained
standing in the 40s,

and all money was concentrated here.

The city's spaces of power

Were very well planned.

In the 70s, it began to lose
its prestige, a bit like cinemas.

And it seems parking was an issue.

Little by little, money
left for the south zone.

There, in Boa Viagem.

It's the same thing that
happened in so many cities,

around the world.

Printer cartridge and toner.

English class.

Office.

And some kind of prosthetic.

You can almost imagine the intrigues,

American and Nazi spies.

Brazilians for and against

the country's neutrality
in relation to the war.

Everyone plotting.

The carnival.

You can also imagine this building
becoming good housing for many people.

The United States Consulate was here,

even during the war.

Another type of American consulate

was in this other building,
not far from there.

All the Hollywood studios
were here on these five floors.

Metro, Universal, Columbia Pictures,

Fox, Paramount, Warner,
United Artists, Disney.

There was even space
for "foreign" companies

such as Atlântida, Cinédia and Embrafilme.

Or at least that's how the

Brazilian distributors felt
in this building.

Shot nine, take two.

These images, from the film Eisenstein,

are the only records in the copy center

which supplied cinemas in the
North and Northeast of Brazil.

Fiction films are the best documentaries.

With the internet,

studio offices closed in the 2000s.

And film distribution was
concentrated in São Paulo,

almost two thousand kilometers away.

The other day, I passed by
the Alfredo Fernandes building

and the new administrator
informed me, with great authority,

that there never was any
studio offices in that place.

These companies only occupied
the building for more than 70 years.

Luckily, I kept some memories

of the distributors in the
Alfredo Fernandes building.

Right behind the building was the trash.

Right there,

was the Hollywood trash.

High quality American posters, trailers,

pictures, lobby cards, press books.

Every week, hundreds of
materials were thrown away.

A well-known secret.

And a lot of things were
resold by Paulo Barbosa,

which he took to the Trianon sidewalk.

These images are over 30 years old.

Cinemas were extinct, right?

Poor people, that don't have money, buy it.

Buy. Sometimes I
even give them materials,

because what is duplicated
here, I give it away. Matter for them.

Many don't have money,
they just look around.

Paulo Barbosa sold cinema souvenirs,

but also worked at the port.

And he was one of the heroes
who saved Recife from a tragedy.

On May 12, 1985, he released the moorings

of a tanker in flames, in the port.

It's a lot of history.

"13th Pay: Five Dead."

"Mrs. Ricardo Pessoa de Queiroz."

"Mrs. Julio."

"Mrs. Antiogenes."

This newspaper from 1977.

King Kong, with Fay Wray, 1933.

The Scape of King Kong, at Trianon.

São Luiz with King Kong,
by Dino De Laurentiis.

Down there is The Man from Hong Kong

and Costinha and King Mong.

King Kong fever, in 77.

And Sônia Braga, at Boa Vista,
with Dona Flor. Third week.

Around 150 thousand people saw
Sônia in Dona Flor, at Moderno alone.

I ended up filming a scene with Sônia Braga

in the place where Moderno was,

for the film we made together: Aquarius.

On this side wall of Moderno Cinema

there were displays,
which has been covered.

Each display had a movie
poster and two photos.

It was the first image
you would see of a movie.

It looked like an exhibition,
only it was on the street.

That's how I found out,
when I was young,

that there was another Star Wars film,

called The Empire Strikes Back.

Vadinho? Vadinho?

Vadinho?

Vadinho? Vadinho?

Vadinho...

What did they do to you, Vadinho?

Vadinho!

Stop messing around.
Maybe he's messing around.

Vadinho!

A few years ago,

I entered the Moderno's projection booth.

That is such an analog thing.

Manual.

The theater marquee.

When scanning these images,
a strange thing happened.

The marquee image,
stored for so long,

began to undergo a digital mutation.

It's as if the Moderno sign
wanted to tell me something.

The tree covers part of the marquee

and it looks like the film
turns into another film.

Sometimes the marquee seemed

a secret message to someone.

Who is this Frankie?

Who is this Johnny?

"My name is nobody."

"My name is Earthquake."

The city's landscape was
marked by fantasy words.

"See Barbarella doing it."

"You'll scream in terror, jump
on your seat when you watch Jaws."

Some messages spelled
carefully and with malice.

I like this sequence of portraits

taken on the Duarte Coelho bridge,

in different decades.

Always with the São Luiz
cinema in the background.

Johnny Guitar, the photo is from '57.

Pink Floyd, The Wall, and
The Entity, March 83.

This one, with O Quatrilho, in the 90s.

Marcélia Cartaxo and Suzana Amaral.

"Arnold Schwarzenegger."

"Chuck Norris."

I filmed this in Super 8

and just watching these
images I get dizzy.

How can I be up there, in that marquee,

without any safety,

ten meters off ground?

Such madness!

Ivan Cordeiro.

"007 - The Living Daylights"

I saw it there in São Luiz.

Fernando Spencer.

Marquees are time markers.

This photo from Jornal
do Brasil, in Rio de Janeiro,

Is from when the soldiers
claimed the military coup.

Point Blank, by John Boorman,
showing on Pathé,

and shit hitting the fan in Cinelândia.

Cinema signs, in a way,

commented on life in the world.

It was a loss for the cities, I think.

♫ You say you do ♫

♫ You understand me ♫

♫ You say you don't ♫

♫ Don't give me away
Don't sell to me ♫

♫ You won't leave me
You won't let me go ♫

♫ But you left ♫

♫ You left!
Left hurting ♫

♫ You left!
Left cold ♫

♫ You left!
And left me on the streets ♫

♫ You left!
You swear, swear ♫

♫ Swore!
You despise me ♫

♫ Despise!
You turn the corner ♫

♫ Corner!
And leave me afloat ♫

♫ float, float, float ♫

♫ For me ♫

♫ There's no way ♫

♫ There is no final kiss ♫

♫ And there won't be a happy ending ♫

♫ And there won't be... ♫

It was a coincidence
that the sign on Venice said:

"Fatal Strike" on
the night of its closure?

And there won't be...

Is it a coincidence?

Cinemas that no longer
exist showing ghost films?

December 1970.

The opening of Veneza Cinema,
on Hospício Street.

The opening night film:
Airport, from Universal.

In 70mm.

Some days before,

a special session of Tora! Tora! Tora!,
from Fox,

was offered to the Armed Forces.

Military band, military government.

The owner, Luiz Severiano Ribeiro Junior,

welcomes here the governor
of Pernambuco, Nilo Coelho,

and Mrs. Nilo Coelho.

In fact, her name is Maria Tereza
Coimbra de Almeida Brennand.

The company Severiano Ribeiro
was the largest cinema exhibitor

of Brazil, during the 20th century.

At Venice, they didn't spare anything.

It's kind of sad to get
attached to a product.

The problem is that you
spent years of your life...

going to that cinema.

Then the relationship becomes
emotional and confusing.

I think it was at Veneza where I
started to notice sound in cinema.

To this day, older people
talk about their experience

of image and sound that was
watching Hair, by Miloš Forman,

in 70 millimeters, in Venice.

I wasn't old enough to see the film.

The languishing military government
assigned a 18 year old censorship.

They found Hair
subversive and "anti-military".

The film became a phenomenon in Recife,

larger than in any other city in Brazil.

More than 200 thousand people

saw Hair, at Veneza,
in almost six months.

The industry sets up
the distribution structure

and then throw it all away.

They were building a mini mall
inside the cinema,

without exactly demolishing the cinema.

This thing lodged itself inside the Venice,

like an alien organism,
and the cinema became the host.

The city changes every
year, that's for sure,

with a lot of demolitions.

But I've never seen a mutation
as strange as this, inside the Veneza.

Seen from afar, Veneza was
located in this building here,

with these beams.

And here was the Marista College,

a traditional school that was extinct.

It will also become another mall.

Marista Shopping,

named out of respect for the
memory of the school that closed.

A bit like cinemas.

These are images from the
film A Seita, by André Antônio,

a film that takes place
in the Recife of the future.

These are the only images that
have survived from that school.

Futuristic films are also documentaries.

Ai, ai, ai, ai

How good it is to grow old

Like me

Being Brazilian Born in Pernambuco

making frevo

With the inspiration that God gave me

Ai, ai, ai, ai...

This is one of my favorite ruins.

Like me

Being Brazilian

Born in Pernambuco and making frevo

With the inspiration that God gave me

Have beautiful mornings
With the same dawn as always

My father's name

In my son Luiz

Being a grandpa so happy

By Simone, Nelsinho, Moema

Three verses composing the most tender poem

Look at my Recife...

Polytheama Cinema.

And the grace of
kindness always granted me

Living in a world like this

Of tenderness and beauty

How good it is to grow old

Like me

Ai, ai, ai, ai

How good it is to grow old

Like me

Being Brazilian

Born in Pernambuco, making frevo

With the inspiration that God gave me

Have beautiful mornings
With the same dawn as always

My father's name

In my son Luiz

Being a grandpa so happy

By Simone, Nelsinho, Moema

Three verses composing the most tender poem

Look at my Recife

Love its people

And the grace of kindness
has always granted me

Living in a world like this

Of tenderness and beauty

How good it is to grow old

Like me...

About 50 million people

passed through São Luiz in 70 years.

I don't know a place as
unanimous as this, in Recife.

Amin Staple.

On the inside, São Luiz
feeds your fantasies.

But, when you leave, he
gives you back to the streets.

A cinema can be a space for kindness.

I always listened to people

referring to São Luiz Cinema
from Recife as a temple.

A part of cinephilia

uses catholic images
to talk about São Luiz.

I've heard things like:

"Seeing a Glauber or a Hitchcock
only if it's on your knees, in praise."

Cinema as a church.

Maybe it's the
Fleur-de-lis stained glass...

very famous.

It is ironic that São Luiz and the
Duarte Coelho building, above,

were built where a church used to be.

The chapel of the Holy
Trinity, from the English.

British money in Recife

it was no longer as important
as it was in the 19th century,

even more after the war.

They demolished an Anglican church,

from 1838,

to make a cinema, in 1952.

The decoration celebrates
the French king Louis 9th.

It's put together like a
tent in the crusades,

with sixteen shields on the walls.

The Fleur-de-lis is everywhere
and in stained glass windows.

Luiz Severiano Ribeiro, the patriarch,

haven't spared in the salons as well.

Jesus

The name is Jesus...

I saw two cinemas up close

that stopped being cinemas
and became evangelical churches,

in the late 80s.

The Eldorado, in Afogados, and
the Albatroz, in Casa Amarela.

The transition took a few weeks,

as the rooms remained the same.

Chairs, decoration and
even the screens remained.

Cinemas that died and came back as temples.

in my life, the name of the Lord Jesus.

Lord God, in the name of Jesus...

When I reviewed these images,

I saw that they reveal the
beginning of profound changes

in Brazil's relationship with religion.

Catholics losing space

and the seizure of power by evangelicals.

They bought the theaters.

When I was a child, I saw the
Albatross on this same screen

a Passion of the Christ,
with Fernanda Montenegro.

Holy Week film.

There are different ways
today to get out of trance.

To leave the temple.

To leave the film.

Miguel and Bruno.

The São Luiz cinema is a public room,

which no longer has the
logic of a commercial space.

It shouldn't have.

Cinema like this helps build character.

Geraldo Pinho.

Gustavo Coimbra.

Movies have a natural
tendency for melodrama.

Often, this is already in the image.

But it also makes sense to
embrace melodrama.

It is like listening to "Evocação",
by Nelson Ferreira.

I discovered, in a closed room in São Luiz,

one of the projectors of the old
Trianon, the neighbor of the Art Palácio,

saved as a donation...

and scrap.

The Trianon Building,

across the river,

where Alexandre worked.

Goodnight!

- Goodnight. All is well?
- All good.

Do you have the address there?

These three stops here
are to pick up someone

Or did you set it up to trick
the app and go for a ride?

I want to cheat the app to go for a ride.

Sometimes I like to come home, unwind,

and take a ride on Uber.

But if you put your address,

Uber will choose a very
dull and boring route.

And then, to avoid people getting
upset... Once, I had a...

discussion with the Uber driver
who was going to follow strictly

the route the application gave him,

and I asked him to go
somewhere else, anyway...

Should I turn off the music?

No no. It's fine.

Who is it?

It's Herb Alpert.

This guy has helped me a lot.

And how is he helping you?

It's an inspiration, right?
I'm learning to play the trumpet.

Then I listen to him a lot, like that.

Because the guy is good, right?

And do you play somewhere?

I'm playing in a frevo orchestra.

Carnival music, right?

Which is very high energy. I like it.

That's great.

And what do you work with?

I work in cinema.

- With cinema?
- Yes.

But is it in a cinema, or do you
make films, that sort of thing?

I...

I work with movie theaters,
but I make films.

I write and direct films.

That's great!

Are you an actor? I want
to take a photo later, listen?

- You taking a photo?
- Yes, I want to take a photo with you.

It's not every day that we
have an artist in the car, right?

I'll take a photo of you too.

Have you ever done soap opera?

No. I didn't do soap, no.

You must know famous people, right?

I know some famous people, yes.

Cinema is great.

These days, I even discovered
that I have a superpower.

- What do you have?
- Superpower.

Do you have a superpower?

- Yeah.
- Yeah?

Power to become invisible.

You become invisible?

Yes, but not like disappearing...

It is like teleportation. To leave
and go somewhere else, got it?

But like, I become invisible,
but remain in the same place.

And then, when I want, I reappear.

Got it?

And...

And you stay...

You become invisible whenever you want

Or you suddenly become invisible
in the middle of a conversation?

Yes. Sometimes I
disappear by accident too.

But...

I try to plan the moment
of becoming invisible

and to reappear, understand?

- You're there, right?
- I'm here, I'm here.

Is the music too loud? Should I turn down?