{"id":21914,"date":"2023-12-19T17:04:09","date_gmt":"2023-12-20T01:04:09","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/filmconnection.com\/?p=21914"},"modified":"2025-05-12T02:07:01","modified_gmt":"2025-05-12T10:07:01","slug":"loucura-em-lisboa","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/filmconnection.com\/blog\/2023\/12\/19\/loucura-em-lisboa\/","title":{"rendered":"Loucura em Lisboa"},"content":{"rendered":"

Fernanda Leme is a Brazilian screenwriter and translator, currently living in Lisbon, Portugal, whose work deals with loss, memory, and mental illness. I let Fernanda take me on a tour of the forgotten and abandoned spaces in Lisbon, as we discussed memory, film, art, life, and the concept of madness.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cGoddamn it,\u201d I said, gazing enviously at the view of the passengers on the other side of our ferry. \u201cWe picked the wrong side.\u201d The opposing landscape featured Lisbon\u2019s shimmering ancient buildings and steep cobblestone hills, while ours showcased nothing but the glittering deep blue sea. I gave Fernanda a half-mocking eye-roll.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be greedy, Julian,\u201d she said laughing, her loose fitting silk button-down fluttering in the wind pouring in from our window. Fernanda has a shy but effervescent smile and an intelligent calming aura. The words \u201chot nerd,\u201d jump to mind, but she would probably prefer \u201cstatuesque intellectual\u201d or something a little less crass.<\/p>\n

We were on our way to Arialva, a less traveled-to bank just across the Tagus from Lisbon propper, to explore a series of abandoned structures from which Fernanda draws inspiration and reverence. \u201cWhy do you think you’re so drawn to these types of spaces?\u201d I asked her.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m always searching for places that tell stories,\u201d she explained. \u201cThere\u2019s a mystery to an abandoned building. What was its original purpose, what is its purpose now? How do we choose to inhabit and explore these spaces? There\u2019s something tragic about something that was once beautiful but has lost its purpose.\u201d Her voice is soft, slow, and measured, with bouts of emotion when she gets excited about something, and a signature Carioca accent.<\/p>\n

\"A<\/p>\n

“There\u2019s something tragic about something that was once beautiful but has lost its purpose.”<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

We exited the ferry and Fernanada made a b-line towards a thin path down the shore that led to a long series of dilapidated structures covered in graffiti. As we ducked under a sign warning of danger and crawled through an opening in the wall, it became clear that this building was not totally abandoned. The smells of meals cooking wafted out of the inner chasms of the place, with distant laughter and music reaching us, as well.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo people use these as sorts of art squats?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know if they’re \u2018artists,\u2019\u201d she said. \u201cBut people live here, for sure.\u201d She paused to take in the view and stroked the wall. \u201cGod, I love graffiti\u2026. The first narrative art pieces in human history were cave paintings. The marks humans make on physical structures tell a story just as much as songs or poetry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"An<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you move from Rio to Lisbon for the architecture and physical history of the city?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I think so,\u201d she said. \u201cThere are just so many stories here! There are a lot of stories in Rio, of course, but it\u2019s so much newer. Europe is so much older. I was in Prague recently, and I drank a beer that was older than my country.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course a lot of the stories of Brazil were erased by Portuguese settlers,\u201d I said. \u201cLisbon is younger than the civilizations that existed in Brazil that we just don\u2019t know as much about.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cClaro,\u201d she said. \u201cThere\u2019s world history then there’s recorded history. You can think about it in the micro or macro.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"A<\/p>\n

Portugal has recently seen its population increase dramatically, with an influx of Brazilians and Angolans. Like many European countries with dwindling birth rates, Portugal sees hope for its future through expanded immigration\u2013 choosing the citizens of countries it once colonized to be the main beneficiaries of this policy. These diasporas have given new life to Lisbon\u2019s art and nightlife scenes, by means of young, energetic, and creative immigrants.<\/p>\n

\u201cWas the move from Rio to Lisbon difficult?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, it was difficult,\u201d she said. \u201cIt\u2019s hard to change, but I\u2019m attracted to travel. It\u2019s good for writers to get out of our comfort zones and experience new points of view. It\u2019s particularly interesting to look at Brazil from a distance, with nostalgia.\u201d<\/p>\n

“It\u2019s hard to change, but I\u2019m attracted to travel. It\u2019s good for writers to get out of our comfort zones and experience new points of view.”<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\u201cBrazil is such a big film market with such a big economy,\u201d I said. \u201cDo you ultimately think there are more opportunities for you as a screenwriter here or there?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe film industry in Brazil is really strong,\u201d she said, as we cautiously climbed a staircase to check out the view from a busted-out window. \u201cUnder Bolsonaro, there was more artistic repression, but the market is huge, regardless. In Lisbon, there\u2019s less of a market, but there\u2019s a bit less competition. Getting educated in Europe, whether or not it\u2019s deserved, has a bit more clout than getting educated in Brazil.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"Narrow \"Ruins<\/p>\n

After a stern-looking man yelled at us in a language neither of us could decipher, we headed back to the ferry, on to our next location; Miguel Bombarda, an abandoned mental asylum in Arroios, Fernanda had heard of but never been to.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019d you first get interested in film,\u201d I asked, as the ferry pulled out, and I realized we had again chosen the side with the subpar view. I tried my best not to be greedy.<\/p>\n

\u201cAs a child I always liked narratives and stories. My father would read me Greek mythology as bedtime stories, and these memories are a huge part of myself. I wanted to write literature, but then I saw the movie Little Miss Sunshine<\/em>. It really showed me the power of visual storytelling.\u201d<\/p>\n

Fernanda went on to get her bachelors in Cinematographic Studies, while also working as a subtitle translator. \u201cI worked in subtitle translation for 10 years,\u201d she said. \u201cIt gave me so much daily contact with script writing. I read every Brazilian film, before they even started filming. It helped me understand script writing, as a craft, as well as the film market in Brazil.\u201d<\/p>\n

Architecture aside, Fernanda\u2019s main motivation for moving to Lisbon was to get her masters in Cinematographic Studies. \u201cI worried that it would be repetitive from my bachelors,\u201d she admitted. \u201cBut, it wasn\u2019t. I made six short movies in two years.\u201d One short film, O Rei Na Gaiola<\/em> (The King in the Cage), that centers on a father\/daughter relationship where the father has Alzheimer\u2019s, went on to tour film festivals and receive critical acclaim.<\/p>\n

\"Movie<\/p>\n

We exited the ferry and began hiking our way up the steep streets and alleys of Lisbon, towards Arroios.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe director I was working with, Paula Loffler, and I crafted the script together,\u201d Fernanda explained. \u201cIt was very personal to her, as her mother had Alzheimer’s. We wanted to encapsulate the emotional core of their relationship through an honest and subtle depiction of the disease. We started the story when the father was already quite progressed and moving into assisted living. Through flashbacks, we focused on their individual characters and relationship\u2026I relied on Paula a lot to draw from her life and feelings, but also drew from my relationship with my own father, and experiences with mental health.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI see \u2018memory\u2019 as a throughline with a lot of your interests,\u201d I said. \u201cWhy do you think that is?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMemory is character,\u201d she said. \u201cMemory can change your personality. Your memories make you, you. Paola\u2019s mother had a life-long fear of flying, and when she reached a certain point in her disease she stopped having a problem with it. Our experiences, our trauma, our quirks, and talents, the meat of our brains can erase it all\u2026 Beyond that, memory is a huge part of cinema theory. The experience of the viewer is dependent on their individual life experiences.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s interesting that you\u2019re also so attracted to the memories of objects and buildings,\u201d I said. \u201cIn a way, the evidence of these inanimate objects is more reliable than ours. The rust, the graffiti, the artifacts, they all tell a story that can\u2019t be distorted or lied about.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuman memories aren’t linear,\u201d she said. \u201cThey aren\u2019t reliable. They are just us trying to make meaning, and turn our lives into a story.\u201d<\/p>\n

Almost on cue, we stumbled upon a memorial for the long dead soldiers of a war neither of us had ever heard of.<\/p>\n

\"A<\/p>\n

We kept hiking up and down and back up. My legs ached, but I didn\u2019t want to look pathetic in front of Fernanda, who was cheerily scaling the cobblestones with ease.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what about the subject of mental health,\u201d I asked. \u201cWhat draws you to that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMental health is a part of all of our stories,\u201d she said. \u201cI struggle with intense anxiety, I have a brother who struggles with schizophrenia. Alcoholism, drugs, they\u2019re all around us. Character building is ultimately rooted in psychology.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you have an ethos or social agenda in the exploration of this subject?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cMental health is a human issue that should be examined without prejudice,\u201d she said. \u201cCinema has played a role in increased stigma, through negative representation. We don\u2019t need to vilify the neurodivergent, they can serve a purpose in society and provide wisdom and unexpected perspectives. Our societies have not always looked down on these people. Shamans, artists, people who used to hold spiritual significance. These characters don\u2019t need to be tied to violence, that connection isn\u2019t even accurate. These are human beings trying to live their life. As a writer, I can place the narrative perspective closer to them, in order to shed light on their experiential reality. There’s a word in Portuguese, \u2018loucura,\u2019 that basically means, \u2018madness,\u2019 but it can have way less stigma attached to it, and maintains a lot of the same literary and historic connotations. I like to think of this word when looking at mental health through an artistic lens.\u201d<\/p>\n

“We don\u2019t need to vilify the neurodivergent, they can serve a purpose in society and provide wisdom and unexpected perspectives.”<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\u201cYou alluded to a personal connection to mental health,\u201d I said. \u201cHow does that inform this process?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA personal connection to art is important, in general,\u201d she said. \u201cPaula was really able to work with the actor playing the father figure to nail the mannerisms of a person with Alzheimer’s. Also, the way I wrote the father character, I relied on my relationship with my father. It\u2019s an artist’s duty to be vulnerable\u2026I tied the story together with a nod to my father; we used to recite poetry to each other. I found this poem that encapsulated my relationship with him, and also acted as a mirror to the relationship between the father and daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n

Finally, we arrived at the shell of the Miguel Bombarda hospital. We searched for an opening, and weren\u2019t able to find one.<\/p>\n

\u201cI heard about this from a blog post that was a few years old,\u201d she said. \u201cMaybe they\u2019ve secured it.\u201d We searched the periphery of the building, eventually finding one door, which we tried opening without luck. On its front we saw the words, \u201cThe Hospital: Inject Culture,\u201d in hip backwards font. We looked at each other, puzzled for a second, until I spotted a torn-off wristband cast onto the ground bearing the same insignia.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s been renovated into a nightclub!\u201d I said, laughing. \u201cThat\u2019s too perfect!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh,\u201d Fernanda said, verging on devastated. \u201cWhy perfect?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s just what you\u2019ve been talking about! The changed meaning of spaces, like the squatters in the buildings on the pier, new, ever-complicating stories!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEh,\u201d she said. \u201cBut I really wanted to see inside.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"A<\/p>\n

\u201cF#@k it,\u201d I said. \u201cLet\u2019s go get drunk.\u201d<\/p>\n

We ventured back down the hill, towards a wine bar Fernanda knew about. Once her wine glass was full, she was back to her normal cheery spirits. We joked and laughed, and looked through the photos we had taken throughout the day.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh,\u201d I said. \u201cI forgot to ask. What was the poem?\u201d She looked at me a bit confused. \u201cThe poem from your film, the one that reminds you of your dad.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOhhh,\u201d she said. \u201cIt came from a collection of old Japanese poems called Kokin Wakashu, that dealt with seasons and change. I think it went like, \u2018O rouxinol\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d I said. \u201cDo you happen to know it in English? If not, it’s totally ok, obviously.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"Fernanda<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, sure, I think so. Just give me a second,\u201d she said, pulling out her phone and fiddling with it for a minute before continuing:<\/p>\n

The nightingale that comes and perches on the plum branch<\/em>
\nsings as if it were summoning spring,<\/em>
\nbut the snowflakes continue to fall.<\/em><\/p>\n

Everything around is dark,<\/em>
\nand the snow continues to fall incessantly.<\/em>
\nHowever, in my garden,<\/em>
\nthe nightingale has already begun to sing.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Fernanda Leme is a Brazilian screenwriter and translator, currently living in Lisbon, Portugal, whose work deals with loss, memory, and mental illness. I let Fernanda take me on a tour of the forgotten and abandoned spaces in Lisbon, as we discussed memory, film, art, life, and the concept of madness. \u201cGoddamn it,\u201d I said, gazing […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":34,"featured_media":21922,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[173,299,313],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-21914","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-featured","category-film","category-newsletter"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/filmconnection.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21914","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/filmconnection.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/filmconnection.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/filmconnection.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/34"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/filmconnection.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=21914"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/filmconnection.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21914\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/filmconnection.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/21922"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/filmconnection.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=21914"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/filmconnection.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=21914"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/filmconnection.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=21914"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}