There is a high probability that no other film will surpass this one in the entire century.
Only the ones to come will ever know.
Haunted by the absence of her deceased husband, Vitalina reminisces and reconstructs an image of him before the audience, creating a dominating presence that feels alive, yet distant, as she tries to reconnect with the last pieces of a man she couldn't be able to see again.
The decaying and stunning chiaroscuro post-colonial settings emphasize Vitalina's emotional state. It's devastating.
Pedro's visionary filmmaking, at this point, places him on the pantheon of artists, whose films can only be described by uttering their names.
Like a reverie, like a fragmented memory, like a whisper, like a falling feather, like the play of light and shadows on an afternoon. An evocation of particular sensations you might have felt in a dream, which come back again once you recall such a dream, approaching it to the reality...