The messy life of a young couple and their clandestine cat in a room whose rent they cannot afford. A story of love, sharing, and hope — unshakable and resilient in its innocence in the face of the unstable and disordered life of our times.
Letter to an absent director. Dear Patrícia, I wanted to tell you in person that I really love your first film, Dois e Um Gato. It’s a mature film about a young couple, with childish jokes wrapped in a mature framework—or perhaps not quite—and sly laughter in poignant moments. I’ve never spoken to you, but I know your work very well and I love it so much. Perhaps you’ve worked on some of my favourite films in Portuguese cinema, and now you’ve given me—given us—this film. An ode to love and hope – don’t come in through the door, there’s always the window; we’ll take the cat and there’ll be three of us; there’s no money to pay the rent, never mind, one day we’ll pay, we just can’t manage it now. But dance with me, dance if it’s still possible, in this world or on the other side. Do you know, Patrícia, that we share the same orange lamp? It’s exactly the same as mine, it’s in the middle of the film and in the middle of my hallway. Is it the cosmos? Virtue? Doubt? Random words is what I feel like saying. Life is very unfair. Right now. The film. The other side. This side. Beside. Do we dance in the world? Well, we do. And Two and a Cat? I don’t know if you liked Françoise Hardy, but if you did, I’ll share Le premier bonheur du jour with you; your film brought back a memory of Godard for me. And Two and a Cat? Let’s celebrate it by showing it.
Kisses from your admirer, Miguel Valverde
