May 1, 2024





We are bound to Jean-Marie Straub and Danièle Huillet for their films demanding everything. These filmmakers, as Louis Séguin recently noted, belong "to a nonhierarchical and frontierless clan of rebels, stateless persons and social misfits and this permanent irreducibility joins the challenge of their cinema." Here Danièle Huillet responds to some questions posed to her by Bernard Mezzadri in 1999. (E.R.L.M.)

BM:  In your films, Greco-Roman antiquity is very present (History Lessons, Othon, From the Clouds to the Resistance, The Death of Empedocles, Antigone...), but the reference is always indirect; it passes through the intermediary of the re-workings of Brecht, Corneille, Pavese, and Hölderlin. Could you clarify the reasons for these dual choices?

HUILLET:  Strata, as in geology.

BM:  What particular discipline did the production of tragedies imply for you (or of an opera like Moses and Aaron)? Why this approach?

HUILLET:  No particular discipline. Variations; but the work with the actors or singers, the taming of space, of objects, has always followed, for all the films, whether in "costume" or "modern", a connected method. And Moses and Aaron, because music always says more than the image, only pushed us to be more prudent: how to leave all the possible paths open that lead outside the clearing in the woods, how to not block the imagination of the viewer by imposing images on him. 

BM:  In the introduction of his Dialogues with Leucò, Cesare Pavese defines myth as "a language, a means for expressing––thats is, not something arbitrary, but a breeding-ground of symbols to which is attached, like all language, a substantial particularity of civilization that nothing else can render." Is this expression acceptable to you? If yes, how can such a "performed" discourse be articulated in film language?

HUILLET:  If would be better to have Pavese's text as he wrote it, in Italian... Then it would perhaps not be a formula, but something he felt. Still, that seems, despite the translation, like common sense. As for the articulation, it's easy: the cinema is not a language; it's an apparatus for radiography, a mirror that helps us see... and hear, to discover, under the accumulation of habit and clichés, reality –– the truth?

BM:  Greek tragedy freely stages the conflict between two characters, certain of their right and ready to push it to its logical end; it expresses the impossibility of reconciliation (Antigone is a good example of this). The confrontations are political in nature and are stylized, aesthetically transformed into works characterized, in the words of Jean-Pierre Vernant, by tension and ambiguity. One would be tempted to transpose these remarks to your films in thinking both of their themes and of their structure (tensions between sound and image, text and music, languages or accents similar perhaps to that between a chorus and actors...). Would you agree to a description of your cinema as a whole as "tragic"?

HUILLET:  Sophocles' Creon is perhaps certain of his right, while Brecht's is panic-stricken by power... That you want to call "our" cinema––our films––tragic is a compliment, especially as today's society tries hard to eliminate, to erase the feeling of the tragic, even if the earth, and life, remains tragic. But of course, as in Corneille, the tragic and the comic reinforce each other... Happiness, by flashes, horror, all around. No appeasement.



Eyes Do Not Want to Close at All Times

by C.

One of the obstacles to Huillet and Straub's work is the cinema itself, that is, the way in which cinema has optimized itself into an extremely profitable activity that begins and ends with ratings: a production defines its type of story (police film, romantic comedy, musical, etc., etc.), huge amounts of financing are arranged, crews are formed (perhaps it would be more accurate to say squadrons?), the film enters a rapid production cycle and, at the end of this assembly line, critics classify it with stars. It's an entirely fictional constellation so detached from what's going on around it that it's rare to find the slightest spark of life in these audiovisual products — if they smell of anything, it's money.

But this is the cinema people recognize and expect to find in living rooms and on television, on computers and cell phones. It's a current of images with an incredible force that sucks up everything, that has already spread to TV series and advertising, to one-on-one communication on social networks and from there to everyday life — in flameless gestures and fake intonations.

This way of seeing dulls the eyes (and the spirit, it should be said) and people lose the ability to see what isn't subjected to this destructive formatting. And when I say see, that's exactly what I mean, as the dictionary says: to exercise the sense of sight, it comes before understanding or not understanding, liking or not liking — it's exactly like looking at the sea.

Against the grain, Danièle Huillet and Jean-Marie Straub work as if cinema has just been invented, as if the Lumière brothers had filmed the workers leaving the factory yesterday. As if cinema were a witchcraft situation that allows us to better see (and keep) what exists, to see deeper, to see all the implications.

— If we can see, perhaps one day it will be possible to do something unprecedented. That's what their films show us, that there is a hypothesis. Eine neue Welt bauen.


Europe: revue littéraire mensuelle, 77
nos. 837-38, Jan-Feb 1999
Translation: Sally Shafto

Die Antigone des Sophokles nach der Hölderlinschen 
Übertragung für die Bühne bearbeitet von Brecht
1991, Straub/Huillet

1984, Manfred Blank

1976, Straub/Huillet

de Cristina Fernandes
Bicho ruim - 30 Nov. 2023
Translation: Andy Rector

1989 - 2014, Straub/Huillet


Past May Day Dedications to 
Danièle Huillet on Kino Slang 

2007 -  Examine Caesars 
2008 -  Song of Two Humans, But...!
2009 -  This Land is Mine
2010 -  Men Without Women
2011 -  Freedom
2012 -  Small Grasses
2013 -  That's Just What We Intend
2014 -  The Lizards
2015 -  (no post – misery)
2016 -  Complete Animals
2017 -  Huillet at Work (interview)
2017 -  Venez m'aider! (plus Duras on Othon)
2018 -  Straub/Huillet/Talking (interview)
2019 -  Born May 1st. . .
2020 -  We Caught a Political Conscience like One Catches Chickenpox
2021 -  May Night
2022 -  "...progress / away from / the bulk of humanity..."
2023 -  Dialectical at Every Second – Unpublished 1975 Interview with ​​Straub/Huillet by J. Hughes​, ​B. Krohn

January 8, 2024



DOMINIQUE VILLAIN:  On Corneille-Brecht (2009), for example, how did this work with these texts come about?

JEAN-MARIE STRAUB:  It was an actress — Cornelia Geiser — who had seen Sicilia!. I think it was the first film of ours she'd seen. She knew that we work on texts before making a film, and she wanted to do this work, independently of the cinema or a film. She had no idea for ​​a text. I ended up accepting when she insisted. One fine day, after five or six years, I said to her "Here you go".

And then suddenly, I found myself in the hospital, because I was run over by a Vespa while crossing the Caulaincourt bridge at half past midnight. The result was four small pieces. In the hospital I didn't know how to occupy myself. She sometimes came to see me, I said to her: “Sit down, we will finally do the work together”. 

I offered her two little monologues by Corneille, and after we worked on them a bit, after a few weeks, I liked her because her mother tongue is German. She's from the Munich region. I thought it would be nice to give her a text in German as well. I remembered a sentence that was going around in my head, which I had, moreover, changed around. It was the sentence: "Rom, Rom, Rom, Was ist das Rom?" I knew it was by Brecht and that I'd heard it at the Berliner Ensemble in the fifties. I didn't even know which Brecht play it came from. I wracked my brain, and I found where it appeared: in what's called in French “Le Procès de Lucullus” ("The Trial of Lucullus"). Which is both a Dessau opera, a radio text and a play.* I found my sentence, but it wasn't my sentence, it was "Rom, Rom, was ist Rom?" 

The first two texts in French that we had worked on were about Rome, I wanted to settle accounts with the city of Rome, which I hate, although I had a certain love for it at the start. I learned to hate it. The first text ended with: "Voir Rome etcetera... moi seul en être témoin et mourir de plaisir" ("Take Rome etcetera... I alone will be the cause of it and die of pleasure"). It was Horace, which I barely knew, I'd read it fifty years before, in high school. The second text is a little monologue that I took from a play that dates from 1667 (Othon), by the same Corneille, written more than thirty years later. So, we saw different layers. We had the work of a relatively young man, and the work of the same man thirty years later. And who, in the meantime, had translated thousands of verses from Latin and The Imitation of Jesus Christ. It was important, there were two stages, two strata by the same author. And it was about the horrors of the Roman Empire. 

While working on these texts, I thought of Brecht's phrase, the origin of which I'd forgotten. I found it, and I told this actress that we could work on that too. It got a lot longer, even though it's not a very long movie. The two texts in French caused a third. We worked on this text by Brecht. But I was far from the cinema. I was interested in this young lady, who wanted to work. I was interested in seeing what she was capable of, and what she would be capable of if pushed or held back. 

She was seated in front of a white wall. I was lying on my hospital bed sitting next to her. We talked a bit. And after two months, I said to myself that what she was doing, after all, it would be interesting to film it. It would be a film that wouldn't be a film, but what we would film would be interesting, and ninety percent different from other films. 

At that moment, I was kicked out of the hospital. Social Security stopped paying. I ended up at my house, rue Cavallotti near Place Clichy, and instead of having a white wall, I had strange things. I filmed where I've lived in Paris since 1954. The Corneille passages,  in front of an open window. She turns her back to the street. For the other text, she's seated in a crumbling armchair with a red throw cover. Between the blocks of Brecht, we introduced punctuation. Each time there's a break, and between each shot, she changed her costume. With Danièle, we always made fun of contemporary French films made by Fémis students or by more famous people. Real fashion shows, where the main actress changes her costume with each shot. We said to ourselves: “Another fashion show, dull as dishwater." Here, I wanted to do that squarely. She changed her blouse and skirt with each shot. With violently different colors. As it's in semi-darkness and the colors are violent since everything isn't illuminated, this creates violent shocks. But anyway it's a beautiful fashion show. (To Dominique Villain) Is that what you wanted to know?

DOMINIQUE VILLAIN:  Yes, can you talk more specifically about working with the actress?

STRAUB:  It's the work anyone should do with any text. Whether their name is Straub or Tartampion. We read a text, we see that some people have introduced punctuation that didn't exist, or have falsified it. We try to dynamite the punctuation by returning to a form of oral culture. You have to know where you breathe. After dynamiting a comma, a period, we continue, and we go to the next line only later, after such and such a speech, a word, a verb, a complement. To give the text a dynamic which corresponds to the individual who says it, to their personal breath.

In general, professional actors do not know how to breathe. Even those from the famous Schaubühne in Berlin. We worked with them for three months. After three months, I said to them: “But nobody taught you how to breathe?" They said no. They have piano lessons every day, but they didn't understand when we told them to make an arc until there, to stop only after such and such a word, to start again at the next line, to breathe three, four, or five times... We make bars. A bar at the end of a line, or two bars, or five bars. This means: 1, 2, 3, 4, at 5 we go to the next line. Once it's decided, depending on the logic of the text, the syntax, and the dynamic that we're trying to capture or produce, it becomes a kind of score that each actor is obliged to exercise, instead of improvising. It involves preventing them from emptying their heart and soul and trampling on the text, from using the text as a springboard to express their personal petty bourgeois sentiments.

I should have brought you the text of the latest film, which is not this film, but a little after, in Italian. You would have seen that the text is retyped horizontally. Already, it's an attack on Mr. Gutenberg, because the book, obviously, must be vertical. Even among Arabs or Hebrews who read the other way. We make the page horizontal. To have room for longer lines. A line consists of several small sentences or a very large sentence that makes up several lines in the book. You need something visual, for the actor. At the end of the line we put bars, as I said. Then we put signs. The actor discovers the text, there's a key word in the middle of the text. He says this key word as if it didn't exist. So, we ask him shyly: “Do you know what this word means, do you know the weight of this word?” He replies: “Ah! I didn't think about it!" or he says nothing. We then say to them: “Without any intention, or without emphasizing, think of the weight of this word, and re-read the text to me." And there the word exists. Without vocal effect, the word has passed through the brain, through the heart, and through the nerves, and, by the grace of God — donnée par surcroît — it gains weight, it has its weight. That's the work. So, we mark a red line or a green line, gradually there are layers. There are blue, brown, black, purple marks. It becomes a score that needs to be exercised, exercised. Like a musician practices a score.

Horizontal pages from 
and UN HÉRITIER (2011)

A STUDENT:  For the texts by Corneille and Brecht, did you give the actress any indications as you worked on the rhythm, the intonations, the musical punctuation, the breathing? Do you also happen to say the text aloud yourself?

STRAUB:  No no. I am careful not to tell them: “Listen to me, you are going to imitate what I am going to do.” It comes slowly, unconsciously. For example, when she begins to sing a small block three times in a somewhat bizarre way for an actress, it was found slowly. Neither she nor I had the idea of saying, "Here, we're going to start singing."

Everything is born 
par surcroît. Or by chance... Great art comes from chance, it does not come from intentions.

But there is a construction, when you make a film. The minimum work that one must demand of oneself as the so-called author of the film, even before working on the text, before filming, before discovering places and taming them, is to discover a construction. Without construction, nothing exists, in art even less than elsewhere. No more than there is a soul apart from a body.

A STUDENT:  Do you sometimes remove certain sentences or certain passages?

STRAUB:  No no. When I censor in the middle of a text, it's very rare, it's to prevent the author from putting on a bad face. In a letter from Schoenberg to Kandinsky, I took the liberty of removing the sentence: "There will always be wars, we can't do anything about it, we just have to let it happen." I said to myself that it was a cliché unworthy of Schoenberg, so I cut it. 

I hate theater directors who put on a play by a famous author, and who remove all sorts of little phrases here and there that they don't like. The work on a text must precisely consist of understanding it slowly, and in discovering, even after having understood or while understanding it, things that at the starting point shocked you, provoked you, and which did not please you. Which were not pleasant or which were even unpleasant. Above all, there should be no censorship. 

The only censorship permitted is Stalinist censorship.

DOMINIQUE VILLAIN:  Based on this film, I would like to come back to the idea of ​​construction. Is it the montage of the two texts that you call the construction? Could you have built a film from a single element, for example, Brecht's text? Or must there always be two or more elements...

STRAUB:  In this case, I can't answer this question, because it was not a film at the start. So, I didn't do my job beforehand. I only did it at the last minute. I did it before filming, but I didn't do it three months, ten years, or three years before, since I had no intention of making a film. It happened like that. She was happy to have worked on these two little blocks by Corneille, and when I found the Brecht text, which had been like a ghost in my head for twenty years, there were three blocks which, without yet being a construction, formed a subject for a possible film, which may not be a film. It's different from our other films.

Excerpts from an interview 
with Jean-Marie Straub, 
Le Travaille du cinéma I 
by Dominique Villian
PU Vincennes, 2012.
Translated by Andy Rector.

*Brecht wrote The Trial of Lucullus quickly, in two weeks while in exile in Sweden in 1939, as if out of historical necessity. Later, in 1951, when he and Paul Dessau were working on the opera version of the play in East Germany, they ran into production delays when the GDR Ministry for Popular Education accused their libretto of formalism and pressed for revisions to counter its perceived elements of pacifism. Brecht wrote: "i'm against this (delay). the subject is important just at this moment, when the americans are issuing such hysterical threats," referring to Truman's order of American troops into Korea in '50-51 under cover of the U.N., after North Korea's invasion of the South, while General Douglas MacArthur was advocating for the use of atom bombs against Korea. The opera was retitled The Condemnation of Lucullus.     ––A.R. 

Barbara Brecht-Schall quoting Brecht on the GDR: 

"I have my opinions not because I am here; 
rather I am here because I have my opinions."  –b.b.

October 11, 2023



A Film Series 

on Housing Problems

programmed by Andy Rector

dedicated to Beatriz Duarte

OCTOBER 12 - 18


One week, 17 films

All programs begin at 9pm 

5 € admission


Series will travel to Porto, Casa das Artes, November 4 - 12. 

Supported by OPTEC FILMES upon their upcoming dvd/streaming release of the film AS OPERAÇOES SAAL (OPERATION SAAL, 2007, João Dias). 

Introduction and small summaries of each program are below (em português, ligeiramente truncado, aqui)More material (articles, notes, news of guests) will follow as the series develops. 



A series of films about the betrayal of the right to housing, a right unborn. Not meant to be a sociological event, but simply a selection of films––seven nights at the movies––on the housing problem, the eviction problem, the exploitation problem, pulled from the history of cinema, internationally.

Films made on the side of oppressed people, the cheated, the evicted, the harassed, the repressed: elderly pensioners, unemployed youth, strikers, house builders, miners, bricklayers, piece-workers, alcoholics, post-war villagers trying to rebuild, cafeteria cooks, security guards, immigrants, mothers, sisters, hobos, temporary workers, people without homes.

Films showing the economic continuity and human toll of the housing problem over decades––the absolute lock on property relations, the dictatorship of the market over people, then and now.

Here we see legal intrigues, corruption, speculation, theft, eviction, police––the basics of an unchanging capitalism. Invader, redeveloper, kidnapper, exiler, swindler. Orphan-maker, widow-maker. "Che farsa!" an Italian villager yells when being newly told of market realities. “A lot of departed spirits walk with me…” says Cape Verdean Ventura, standing in the aftermath, in Amadora, eating the one small soup his friend Pango can spare.

A group of films that hold, like a silo, historical and human detail on the monstrous inequities. The life and death involved, the solidarity needed. As José Sinho Baessa de Pina (community representative in Casal da Boba and organizer with the agit-group VIDA JUSTA) says: "The spirit of unity and solidarity is a process," one torn apart precisely when “everyone is worried about their home”. Many souls in these films survive through some kind of solidarity: fellow workers prevent an eviction; a snitch threatening a Hooverville shantytown is thwarted; a mother's memory of "back home" is shared for strength; a warning is passed on before it's too late; the simple twist of a screwdriver of a telephone company worker restores the unpaid line of a desperate man…

Classical film, B-film, epic, questing documentary, horror film, propaganda, melodrama, music film, student film, silent film, militant film, plus the unclassifiable. Many of these films are of the popular cinema, if not “becoming-popular” (as Bernard Eisenschitz wrote of Dudow/Brecht, Straub/Huillet).

In the love and hate, dream and nightmare, hope and despair that cinema projects, one finds it has always been concerned with housing, seen from the bottom (and sometimes the top––rarely the middle). 
Chaplin’s Tramp was a so-called “homeless”. Pedro Costa: "Cinema was always here to serve the defenseless. We risk forgetting that. (...) Perhaps these scenes in which respect is shown towards them can make us see the injustice."


A small contribution to the fight against the grotesque rent and food prices impoverishing and displacing the majority of us now. 
In solidarity with the upcoming VIDA JUSTA-organized protest in Lisbon (Rossio), October 21, demanding:  "End the rising costs, we want houses to live in, transport for all, wage increases, no police repression in our neighborhoods."


OCTOBER 12, Thursday


Operation SAAL 

 2007, João Dias. 127 min. Portugal 

*Director João Dias in attendance* 

A dream… Operation SAAL was the April 25th,1974 Carnation Revolution’s most important reply to the housing problem: the people would take into their own hands the building process of their own homes, working in close collaboration with architects. What happened? João Dias's documentary is a jocular, sometimes bitter, revisiting of the plan, the sites, and people involved, 30 years after the Coup, energetically told with a dialectic of past and present voices: tenants associations, workers and architects. More information.

OCTOBER 13, Friday


Houses of Poverty 

1936, Henri Storck. 29 min. Belgium

Francês com legendas em inglês


Misery in Borinage 

1934, Henri Storck, Joris Ivens. 34 min. Belgium

Francês com legendas em inglês 


Kuhle Wampe or: To Whom Does the World Belong?

1932, Slatan Dudow, Bertolt Brecht. 70 min. Germany 

Alemão com legendas em inglês

*Portugal Premiere of 2020 Restoration* 

Sessão: 2 horas 15 min, mais intervalo 

Three films in which dismal living and working conditions, eviction and dispossession do not come with the inevitability of an earthquake or flood, but are seen critically and agitated against, cause and effect relations unmasked. Films which intended to intervene on reality.



1909, D.W. Griffith. 7 min. E.U.A. 

Filme mudo, legendas em inglês sem acompanhamento musical 


1910, D.W. Griffith. 17 min. E.U.A. 

Filme mudo, legendas em inglês sem acompanhamento musical 


1912, D.W. Griffith. 15 min. E.U.A. 

Filme mudo, legendas em inglês sem acompanhamento musical 


The Return of the Prodigal Son –– Humiliated: That Nothing Produced or  Touched by Them, Coming From Their Hands, Proves Free from the Claim of Some Stranger (Workers, Peasants - Continuation and End) 

O Retorno do Filho Pródigo –– Humilhados: Que Nada Feito ou Tocado Por Eles, Nada Saído das Mãos Deles, Resultasse Livre do direito de Algum Estranho (Operários, Camponeses - Continuação e Final) 

2003, Jean-Marie Straub, Danièle Huillet. 64 min. Itália, França, Alemanha

Italiano com legendas em português


2010, Pedro Costa. 26 min. Portugal 

Português e crioulo com legendas em português 

sessão: 2 horas 3 min, sem intervalo 

Five fables. Three by D.W. Griffith on the evils of the economy, accumulation, corruption, the tenuousness of charity and class reconciliation; with forms of montage that seem to express outrage that rich and poor coexist at all. One by Straub/Huillet, HUMILIATED: No sooner does an impromptu commune in post-war Italy establish itself and begin to overcome its internal challenges, does a zombie of the cadastre, possessed by propriety, arrive and declare that everything they've cultivated is already owned: the land, the water, even their wills (to clear the forest of landmines, to produce wheat non-industrially...). And finally, Pedro Costa's O NOSSO HOMEM, about the struggle of a Portuguese-born child of Cape Verdean immigrants to gain an ounce of peace, under threat of expulsion, as if not a citizen, alongside the story of a bricklayer, possibly beaten to death by racists in Amadora.

OCTOBER 15, Sunday


1951, John Reinhardt. 75 min. E.U.A. 

Idioma inglês sem legendas 


1956, Kent Mackenzie. 18 min. E.U.A. 

Idioma inglês sem legendas 


1997, Charles Burnett. 55 min. E.U.A. 

Idioma inglês sem legendas


sessão: 2 horas 28 min. mais intervalo 

A concrete focus, in two films, on a specific place, Bunker Hill, downtown Los Angeles. One, CHICAGO CALLING, about a penniless recovering alcoholic who must suddenly find $53 to pay his phone bill, to hear news of his faraway wife and daughter, on whom his life depends. The problem of utility bills must not be left out of any housing rights to speak of. And another, BUNKER HILL, a soft-spoken film on the elderly pensioners who live on "the Hill", now threatened by commercial redevelopment, the demolition of their home and community. Then, a rough video-poem by Charles Burnett on being homeless, living out of one’s car in Los Angeles while working a low-wage job as a “temporary accountant” at Bank of America.

OCTOBER 16, Monday


A Vida é um Sonho 

1933, Frank Borzage. 75 min. E.U.A. 

Idioma inglês sem legendas 

**4K digital copy** 


1959, Boris Barnet. 89 min. U.R.S.S. 

Russo com legendas em inglês 

sessão: 2 horas 44 min. mais intervalo 

A double bill. One Hollywood film (Borzage), one Soviet (Barnet)––a love story, a family story––on the restless yearning for a decent home amidst war: class war, world war. On the importance of being stubborn, even while living under or fleeing intolerable circumstances.

OCTOBER 17, Tuesday


1968, Thomas Reichman. 58 min. E.U.A. 

Idioma inglês sem legendas 


O​​ Bruto 

1953, Luis Buñuel 81 min. México 

Espanhol com legendas em português 

sessão: 2 horas 19 min. mias intervalo 

What has eviction achieved? It has ruined Charlie Mingus's dream of a new music school in the Lower East Side, New York. 

Plus, a popular Mexican melodrama by Luis Buñuel, a tale and dissection of the family ties between a landlord, a "Brute”, and a group of tenants organizing themselves.

OCTOBER 18, Wednesday


Colossal Youth

2006, Pedro Costa. 155 min. Portugal 

Português e crioulo com legendas em português 

Guest:  José Sinho Baessa de Pina, who appears in the film as the "Gulbenkian Security Guard", and is today a community representative of Associação Cavaleiros São Brás and VIDA JUSTA.

In 2006, Pedro Costa makes JUVENTUDE EM MARCHA (COLOSSAL YOUTH), an unshakeable epic of a people in transition: the relocation of the former inhabitants of shantytown Fontaínhas to the new social housing complex Casal da Boba, in Amadora, outside Lisbon. We follow Ventura––Cape Verdean immigrant, pioneer, builder of Fontaínhas, injured construction worker––who spends his nights reciting a love letter, trapped in 1974––for him, a terror––and his days with “his children” Vanda, Nhurro, Gustavo, Sinho, Paulo, in the new neighborhood, and Bete in the last house of Fontaínhas. “Templo, cabana, deus-lares…” ("Temple, shack, house-diety...") says the Housing Agent showing Ventura his new Boba apartment. “'s full of spiders,” Ventura replies...


*The series title ONDE VAMOS MORAR? - WHERE ARE WE GOING TO LIVE? comes from a song lyric by José Afonso, from “Canção Do Desterro (Emigrantes)” - "Song of Exile (Emigrants)". 

With deep thanks to: João Dias, Abel Ribeiro Chaves, José Sinho Baessa de Pina, Rodrigo Dâmaso, Charles Burnett, Pedro Costa, Aurora Neves, Maria Capelo, José Neves, Mosfilm Cinema Concern, Christophe Clavert, Marta Mateus, Filipe Baixinho, Anna Neher, Sara Jesus, Billy Woodberry, Torpeda, Eliel Santos, Cinema Ideal, Kyriakos Dionysopoulos.