THE STRANGE CASE OF ANGELICA (PORTUGAL/2010/MANOEL DE OLIVEIRA)

Isaac works as a photographer whose role it is to take the ‘final’ pictures of people’s loved ones. Having been hired by a particularly wealthy family to photograph the body of the recently married Angélica, Isaac finds himself inappropriately fixated on the resultant images. As he attempts to return to normality, heading to vineyards to photograph the local workers, Isaac is constantly haunted by the image of this beautiful woman he never knew. His behaviour grows more erratic, and an unfortunate episode during one of his photography expeditions confirms the extent of his manic infatuation.

This being the latest film of many by prolific 102-year-old director Manoel de Oliveira, The Strange Case of Angelica is evidence of a well-lived career in film. De Oliveira establishes mood magnificently, the first ten minutes of the film dominated by the sound and presence of nighttime rain, and a plot about photography gives a great excuse for some superb images of the Douro countryside. With the collaboration of cinematographer Sabine Lancelin, who has lensed several of his productions, de Oliveira composes each scene like a tableau, restricting movement to maintain the illusion of a painting come to life. Disappointingly, as with several of the director’s most recent pictures, Angelica is too stoical to convince emotionally, especially in the film’s fantastical moments – for example, Isaac’s imagined meeting with Angélica comes off more farcical than magical. Though not totally devoid of enjoyment, Angelica requires considerable patience, and the third act is likely to leave one wanting.

BESIEGED (PORTUGAL/1970/ANTÓNIO DA CUNHA TELLES)

After splitting from her patronising, abusive husband for the married American Bob, Marta slowly comes to terms with the concept of freedom. Her newly-formed illicit relationship with Bob at first appears to give her everything she needs, even an apartment which Bob pays for. In an attempt to further liberate herself, she has flings with a photographer, whom she encounters during a modelling shoot, and a drug-dealing bad boy who perhaps leads her the furthest astray. Before long, she is once again left picking up the pieces of her own life, as well as those of others.

A wistful tale of anomie in a metropolitanised Europe, Besieged is a key film of the Cinema Novo, Portugal’s own take on post-war neorealism. The film often echoes early Polanski and Cassavetes, and it’s safe to say the males in the film don’t come off particularly favourably – the title and opening credits refer to a siege of manipulative men. Consistently androgynous with her cropped hair and schoolgirl skirts, Marta is a tragic figure whose constructed happy-go-lucky image, occasionally recalling the starlets of the French New Wave, belies her status as a lost woman. Unfortunately, given how much of the film rests on her story, Marta isn’t a particularly sympathetic character, her twists and turns led more by disillusionment with her current state than a genuine desire to create a new life for herself. Simplistic sound design becomes distracting when less is heard than seen, but the film does feature some magnificent vérité photography.

ECCENTRICITIES OF A BLONDE HAIRED GIRL (PORTUGAL/2009/MANOEL DE OLIVEIRA)

A quixotic accountant named Macário opens up to the woman next to him on a train, seeking some form of approval for his love of an unpredictable young woman named Luisa. He confides that Francisco, his uncle and employer, had dismissed him for his silly fantasy, and proudly recounts how he clawed his way up from impending bankruptcy all in the name of love. As he indulges himself further in his own story, we begin to see more of what really happened, as well as the titular eccentricities of the object of his affections.

The most obvious fact to be mentioned about this film is that it was made by 100-year-old filmmaker Manoel de Oliveira, a vivacious character who for several decades has been the only superpower in Portuguese cinema. Though it’s hardly a life’s work at just 64 minutes, de Oliveira demonstrates a light pertness through his many layers of storytelling. The story itself is an updated version of an 1874 novel by legendary writer Eça de Queiroz, but the relationships and values within appear scarcely modernised. Nonetheless, the film is openly idealistic, and while it doesn’t particularly grate, the romantic moments can occasionally feel insincere, a setback which also plagued de Oliveira’s recent Belle Toujours. Macário’s starry-eyed memories of Luisa in particular play out a little like a perfume advert: beautiful but emotionally underdeveloped. The final scene is perfectly enigmatic, eluding any logical conclusion, and it is little wonder that the gorgeous last shot features on the poster.