A young political prisoner, whose whereabouts are unknown to his family, tries to convince an older prisoner to pass on a note to the outside.
Kudibanguela begins with a song that resonates with another era and other geographies. A written note and a slit of light under a door. It’s still dark inside. We see a character moving in this space and we don’t know what’s going on. We feel a choreography of bodies. But there’s a restlessness in the air. Something is happening there. Day breaks and the light brightens the place. In a three-handed film by Bernardo de Magalhães (director), Guilherme Martins (screenplay) and Francisca Miguéis (production), you feel the comfort of a larger, fearless work, capable of directing actors and finding a film in as small a space as the fact that it’s a ‘studio’ film allows. But the light emanating from the cell, like the light coming from the film, summons the viewer to a place in the story, with the ability to analyse it and, at the same time, emotionally create a sensation through the way the bodies and their expressions are filmed. And we have a powerful piece of work made by 2nd year film students from the Escola Superior de Teatro e Cinema. More to come. – Miguel Valverde
