Set after the Carnation Revolution in the 1970s, Ivo M Ferreira’s Projecto Global [+lee también:
crítica
entrevista: Ivo M. Ferreira
ficha de la película], showcased in IFFR’s Big Screen Competition, follows a group of revolutionaries – members of the Forças Populares 25 de Abril, also known as FP-25 – who aren’t quite done fighting for the future of their world. But the world might be done with them...

Cineuropa: I was surprised by the scale of this film. At times, it really does feel like a 1970s epic.
Ivo M Ferreira: I wanted to make sure it was ambiguous. Ambiguous, but not vague. We were walking on muddy ground - these aren’t just “good guys” or “bad guys”. Because of that, I thought everything else needed to be very solid. We didn’t rely on post-production effects either. Everything, including the action scenes, was created on set.

We fought hard for the film to look great, but also to depict the characters’ fragility, doubts and mistakes. We explore the loss of a moral compass, and that’s where all the violence starts. I always try to trust the characters too. If they start moving around during a scene, I have to be ready to follow them.

Are you always that flexible as a director? Do you leave any room for the unexpected?
We rehearse for weeks. We discuss the characters the actors are playing. This is a film about mistakes and doubts, but some things needed to be very clear. I would tell them: “You have to be absolutely sure of what you’re saying. You need to have that confidence, because if your character fails, the rest of the film does too.” We created a safety net, and it was only then that we could be free.

There’s one shot at the beginning of the film when they leave the factory. One character drops the bag and comes back – it was an accident. But there was an energy to it that brought us closer to our vision. Obviously, in order to benefit from such accidents, you have to prepare a lot beforehand.

What’s your relationship to this real-life story and its complicated legacy? Some will see them as freedom fighters. For others, they’re terrorists.
I want the audience to decide for themselves, but I also believe the film is perfectly clear about certain things: in a democracy, there’s no place for armed violence. That being said, our society needs conflict and discussion. But not violence. Never. We can talk for as long as we like, but we can’t hurt each other.

The people you depict struggle with that. Including Rosa, played by Jani Zhao.
She’s emotionally conflicted. When I started researching all this, something that really scared me was realising that if you were a part of this organisation and the police started looking for you, you had to either go to jail or disappear. You’d live with a different name, identity and address. We actually came up with Rosa’s entire backstory, including her parents’. But at the end of the day, this character is free of the past.

I wanted to set each scene in “the present” so that we’re right there with them. We can’t judge because, just like them, we don’t know what will happen in the future. The worst thing is when you no can longer recognise yourself. It’s an interesting moment, isn’t it? When you don’t know who you are anymore. On this occasion, when the unexpected happens, they’re suddenly faced with the violence they wanted to avoid. Their organisation was supposed to uphold democracy and prevent the return of fascism. But their utopia collides with reality. As we say in Portugal, “When the devil rests, things happen.”

When people talk about the political turmoil of the 1970s, they sometimes say: “They were difficult times.” But now they’re saying the same thing about the present day.
We’ve returned to a polarised society. Whenever we become polarised, violence can ensue. We presented the film for the first time in 2017. The political situation in Portugal back then was nothing like what’s happening now. Now the extreme right is claiming that “we need another Salazar [former Prime Minister of Portugal],” that he was a great guy who fed people and allowed them to study. But the whole country was starving, and most couldn’t read or write.

It’s both sad and interesting: we’ve set this film during a very specific moment in Portuguese history, but it speaks directly to the present. I just feel that if we don’t communicate with each other, we won’t fight for our ideals. For me, democracy is something combative because we’re always changing. And now we’re back to simplifying our views on everything: life, the world, people and immigration. We don’t even want anything new anymore, we just want to make sure we don’t lose our existing rights. To me, it’s a pacifist film. I hope the world doesn’t go back to any of these things.