The name of Brazil’s biggest airport, Guarulhos, references the fact that it was built on indigenous territory. In a blend of realistic and stylised scenes, the film follows a member of the ground staff as she seeks her roots beneath the runway.
Gustave is a photographer who makes pictures of nude male bodies in public spaces in São Paulo. One night, Pedro goes with him, without yet knowing whether he will be part of the project. This vast city will be witness.
João, a middle-class filmmaker, goes through a series of encounters with people like his long-time friend Irene; his boyfriend Álvaro; Matias, a young man he meets in the subway and has a sexual experience with, among others, some acquainted, others unknown. These encounters affect him and slowly begin to reveal a play of time frames which blends together life and creative process, present and memory.
In a small Brazilian seaside town we follow the efforts of Paula, who is pregnant of her third child, to build a pool in her humble beach house, so the family can enjoy the rest of their vacation. Financial difficulties will interrupt the work and reveal certain aspects of a tense family routine, full of small frustrations.
An indigenous teacher implements the use of Ayahuasca in her classes in order to connect her students to another reality. During a ritual, one of the children comes upon a weird gear in the forest.
Isabel is a babysitter pregnant of her own child and can't wait to be a mother. Until she meets Joana.
This popular international series continues with this third volume of five short films focusing on men, including: Vanilla [Baunilha] (2017); Lightrapping (2016); Polaroid (2014); Five Minutes a Day [Cinco Minutos Por Dia] (2018); My Brother [Mio fratello] (2015).
Silvia is a middle-aged filmmaker in crisis with her life. The same night that she is surprised by the visit of the ex-wife, who left her a few years ago, meets another woman who fascinates her.
A character who has a voice and a body narrates an interrupted love experience. This immersion in subjectivity, as well as some fragments of almost lost poems by Safo and Lucrécio and some musical paths, lead us through images of different bodies of other people in constant motion in the streets, at parties, at home or inside the subway, while they move from somewhere indefinite to another in the city of São Paulo - in an indeterminate mix between the most everyday concreteness of the gesture and the possible abstraction of dance.
I saw leaves that were moving. I thought: "It's a bird in its nest". I separated the leaves and looked; but there was no bird. The leaves continued to move. As I ran, faster and faster, I screamed. What moved the leaves? What moves my heart, my legs?
