Regarding European cinema, there are few contemporary filmmakers that interest me as much as Pedro Costa, the great Portuguese filmmaker who has a reputation for meaningful, complex films that show a different side of his country. Not only do I feel a patriotic connection to him based on our shared cultural background, I consider him one of the most fascinating European filmmakers of his generation, one of the towering figures of modern Portuguese cinema. His films are epic in intention, intimate in scope, and he presents a vision of Portugal that very few filmmakers have been able to capture with such brutal honesty and unrelenting beauty, as well as having an unconventional view of humanity evident throughout this oeuvre. This has been true of Costa since the beginning, as evident in his explosive debut, Blood (Portuguese: O Sangue), a film that I consider to be an exquisite masterpiece of European cinema. Costa, in making Blood, creates something almost otherworldly, a stunning piece of neorealism that has a volcanic core, telling a simple story through the most subtle and beautiful means, but never losing sight of the overarching message that it carries with it. Blood is an absolute masterwork if there ever was one, and has cemented Pedro Costa as one of the most important filmmakers of his generation.

Vicente (Pedro Hestnes) and his ten-year-old brother Nino (Nuno Ferreira) are two brothers living on the outskirts of Lisbon. Their father (Canto e Castro) is very ill, and he soon dies from complications from an unnamed disease. Vicente and Nino have to now live by themselves, getting by however they can, and doing their best to make the best of their less-than-ideal situation, because their father’s sudden death puts them at a disadvantage. They get the help of Vicente’s friend, and eventual romantic interest, Clara (Inês de Medeiros), who works as a schoolteacher and thus has a caring nature about her that helps her be a mother-figure to the young and impressionable, but still feisty and independent Nino. The characters encounter more difficulty when a few different forces enter their lives, such as a pair of strangers who demand Vicente pay them the money his father owes them, as well as the boys’ uncle (Luís Miguel Cintra), who insists on having custody over Nino, going so far as to even take him by force through kidnapping him under the guise of night. Several different stories underly the events of this film, as threads of the past, present and future all interweave to convey a portrait of society through the eyes of two young men without any direction or certainty for the future, only safe in the knowledge that regardless of whatever happens, they will always have each other, and that the forces that quite literally try and tear them apart, regardless of their persistence, will not be able to overcome the strong bond of blood that these two brothers have.

I am not entirely sure what it is about Blood that makes it such an iconoclastic film, a film that defies every convention and takes an unusual but memorable approach to telling a very simple story. It draws the audience in through hypnotic visuals and a narrative that resonates with many people, and then takes them on an unbridled cinematic journey into the depths of the lives of these characters, creating a story that is thrilling, terrifying and touching, all in equal measure. It is a film that blends genre and conventions together and transforms a simple story into something undeniably magnificent, as well as extraordinarily meaningful. Costa is not a filmmaker who ever intended to meet expectations – he implants an idea in the mind of the audience and then relishes in surpassing every convention he possibly can, resulting in something as moving and unpredictable as Blood. I have yet to see a film quite like Blood, and there are very few filmmakers who are able to merge genres so effortlessly and so beautifully. Blood is a film that is almost impossible to categorize. It is a film of segments, and even though there is only one central plot, there are dozens of potential stories that are alluded to throughout. This creates a unique atmosphere, whereby despite focusing on the exploits of Vicente and Nino and their challenges in surviving, their story is but one of the multitudes, and they represent the common person, with their trials and tribulations appearing to be unrelentlessly important to them, but in the grander scheme, these are just inconsequential moments in the portrayal of working and lower class society, who do everything in their power to simply survive, whether it be staying alive and caring for each other, or evading the forces that intend to inflict harm on easy targets. Costa is adept at doing one thing better than most of his contemporaries: conveying what is ordinary and common in extraordinary and unique ways, and this is unequivocally evident in Blood, a film that makes something incredibly beautiful and meaningful out of something so bitterly tragic and bleak.

Blood is one of the more difficult films I have encountered, mainly because it is nearly impossible to write about or to form coherent thoughts on, because despite having a relatively straightforward story, it lacks a coherent flow, and follows a more stream-of-consciousness approach in its storytelling. It reminds me distinctly of classic Modernist literature, such as the work of Virginia Woolf, or the poetry of T.S. Eliot, insofar as it is a film of fragments, a portrait of society told through narrative episodes, which are loosely combined together in order to create a sense of unease and unsettling realism, which only creates a more bleak representation of modern society. This is not neorealism in the same way Ermanno Olmi or Vittorio de Sica made their films, which were simplistic stories about reality. Nor is it magical realism, in the way that realistic situations were juxtaposed with vaguely-fantastical elements to capture the unpredictable nature of life, one in which joy and suffering co-exist. Costa seems to have made an entirely different kind of realism here, something equally beautiful and disturbing in its view of reality, representational of life as it is, with dream-like nuances that detach it from being an entirely straightforward narrative.

This all works towards the fact that Blood is an entirely unique film, and I would not be mistaken in boldly stating that Costa made a film that stands in a genre of its own. Blood is a film that weaves together segments of the past, present, and future in a way that is singularly original, and uses the concept of memory beautifully, never allowing it to take over the film, but also not avoiding commenting on the haunting nature of the past. Blood is one of the true Modernist films, demonstrating with perfect clarity the truthfulness of Roland Barthes’ idea that “The text is a tissue of quotations drawn from the innumerable centres of culture”, with Costa using literature and cinema as tools from which to borrow elements to tell his own story. He takes inspiration from so many previous filmmakers, such as Val Lewton and Robert Bresson, as well as borrowing generously from the seminal classic The Night of the Hunter (similarly, both of these films were debuts for their respective filmmakers, with The Night of the Hunter being a distinctive piece of terrifying realism, as well as some narrative similarities being shared between the films). The cinematic influence is most definitely evident throughout this film, but rather than implying that Costa outright plagiarized ideas or conventions from previous works, I’d argue that he effectively repurposes themes and ideas, both narratively and visually, to construct an entirely new story with its own original concepts, borne out of the inspiration of what came before. In this regard, I can see analogies between Costa and Jim Jarmusch, in their shared usage of previous works in exciting, dauntingly brilliant ways. Blood is singular in its vision, and through its elegant references to preceding works, it develops into something that exists beyond the realm of what one would think is possible in a film such as this. It is a film that owes a great deal to previous films, without which such a visually stunning, complex film could not exist.

Not only is Blood impossible to categorize under traditional conventions, it is also a film that seems to transcend genre. It has multiple elements from a plethora of genres, and it is seemingly in a genre of its own. In terms of the main story, Blood is a tragic drama about loss and how we come to terms with the death of a loved one. The delicate way in which Costa presents the decline and eventual death of the father of Vicente and Nino was extraordinary, and the sensitivity he manages to convey in those brief moments, such as when Nino realizes that his father is never coming back, or when Vicente and Clara illegally bury the body, is almost otherworldly. Costa is able to be as loud and bombastic as necessary but also can convey the most intricate and subtle emotions with meticulous precision. He counteracts these quiet and moving moments with those that involve the strangers looming over Vicente, demanding their money. In this regard, Blood often veers into the realm of film noir, with the lingering danger following our characters like a specter, haunting them relentlessly. Blood is not a crime film, but there are overt allusions to criminal acts, such as in the mysterious past of the boys’ father and his activities, the kidnapping of Nino by his uncle, who is in himself a very mysterious, ambiguous character who has an odd relationship with a woman that he often appears alongside. The fact that only the three central characters of Vicente, Nino and Clara seem to have names indicates that Blood is not a film that intends to provide answers or clarity – and the fragmented nature of the narrative only serves to buttress this unsettling and enigmatic tone. Moreover, there are even instances whereby Costa veers into horror with this film, with the forces of malice seemingly lurking not too far from these characters, always prepared to strike relentless fear into the lives of these innocent people who are simply attempting to survive.

Let’s just pause to look at the title of the film Blood/O Sangue is such a simple title, but like most films of its ilk with such titles, the brevity could possibly hide much deeper meaning. What could Costa be alluding to with the title “Blood“? Judging from the preceding discussion, it could be said that this is a film about visceral corporeality, a bitterly cold and clinical story about suffering, seeing life as being filled with unmendable wounds. The blood of humanity works alongside the impending danger these characters feel. Blood is not a comfortable film to watch – it is often a painful reminder of the agonizing deterioration of existence, where survival is not simply being alive, it is evading the forces that wish to inflict harm on ordinary people for the selfish gain of others. However, I’d argue that despite this view of danger, pain, suffering and wounds, there is a much deeper, more profound and meaningful intention behind the title “Blood“, and perhaps the most obvious – the blood of family, which I mentioned previously. Our two protagonists are bonded not merely by situation and circumstance, but on the virtue of being brothers. Personally, I was raised with two brothers of my own, and we were always told that regardless of what happens, we are of the same blood, bound to each other by a force much stronger than simply being related, and I expect many people can relate to this belief. Family plays the most important role in this film, and Costa makes some grand statements about the importance of the “blood” of family throughout it.

At its core, Blood is a film that looks at reality through a very unusual lens, presenting situations that may not be relatable, but are certainly resonant in most instances. Blood is a coming-of-age tale, the story of three young people who are forced into involuntary adulthood when they are left with very little and are made to fend for themselves. This is particularly evident in the character of Nino, who is wise beyond his ten years and is unfortunately forced to undergo a process of rapid maturation in order to get by. Vicente has to also adapt to a plethora of new responsibilities, now being the sole provider for his younger brother, occupying the vacant position of a father-figure to Nino, and one could even argue that he had been the main male influence on the young boy all along, considering his father’s frequent absences, both physical and psychological, never truly being there for his children. Blood touches on many complex themes, particularly those to do with family, and there is potential for in-depth discussions on how this film represents these dynamics. It is one of the bleakest representations of family, yet it still manages to be a warm and endearing story about brotherly affection, even if the film itself is often cold and harsh, which I feel was entirely intentional. Costa also touches upon the romantic development between the characters of Vicente and Clara, and their warm and loving interactions are juxtaposed with the more hopeless feeling of dread that occurs around it, with Costa creating even more of an unsettling atmosphere, showing that despite all the suffering, there is still hope for something beautiful in one’s life, but one should never forget that despite the joys in our lives, there is always the chance of tragedy. Costa’s film oscillates between emotional cores rapidly, and the uneasiness felt between the sorrow and the happiness is inextricably important to this film’s success. Not to mention, the performances of the entire cast, particularly those of the three leads, are impeccable, with Inês de Medeiros in particular smoldering with incredible intensity, capable of conveying a wide range of emotions with the most subtle of expressions. It is a simple performance, but one that is indescribably moving.

Blood is a film that tackles very difficult subject matter, such as poverty. This is a distinctive element of the film because poverty is never an easy concept to explore in cinema without being exploitative. In fact, it is usually literature that presents poverty in a way that is delicate and void of any unnecessary narrative abuse. Costa takes an unflinchingly beautiful look at the suffering of ordinary people who struggle to make their way through life, living with very few luxuries and not knowing what the future holds for them. Blood is not a film that exploits poverty, nor is it one that is relentlessly miserable and deeply unsettling. It is an honest, frank and brutally heartbreaking portrayal of the working class and their struggles to exist in a harsh, unforgiving world, with Costa treating this subject with harsh sincerity. The filmmaking contributes heavily to this, with Costa creating something visually arresting, with dream-like imagery to support the central story. This is a film with an unconventional relationship with time, flowing in a consistently incoherent manner, being made up of moments that are as heartbreaking as they are awe-inspiring. Costa’s use of lighting and shadows create breathtaking visuals, and he is able to effectively utilize the chiaroscuro effect, the balance of light and shadows, to create a film that feels, at many points, like a moving painting (I was not surprised to see that this film was photographed by Martin Schäfer, who also worked on Paris, Texas, a similarly crushing social drama from the 1980s). Costa uses the camera like a painter uses his brush, to effectively create a delicate and complex portrait of society through images. Moreover, the use of music and sound design in this film contributes to the overall brilliance of the film – and I haven’t been able to get “This Is the Day” by The The off my mind since I saw the beautiful way Costa used it here. It’s refrain of “This is the day, your life will surely change/This is the day when things fall into place” is too resonant to not be applicable to this film. Life can change in a matter of moments, as evident by these characters and their (meta)physical, oneiric journeys.

I am in complete awe, and I am left almost speechless by Blood. I continuously marvel at how Pedro Costa was able to make such a film. It is not an easy film, and its fragmented structure makes it a challenging, thought-provoking and uncomfortable experience. It is a film that has striking visual imagery to alongside its central theme – does the slightly-surreal, detached nature of this film lend itself more to dreams or nightmares? Costa effortlessly merges genres in creating a film that is relentlessly brilliant, a film that is centered on memory, focusing on the haunting nature of the past, and being an unsettling celebration of life in all its uncertainties. One of the most beautiful films I have ever seen, both in terms of its filmmaking and its narrative and I have rarely been as moved as I have been here. More coherent thoughts may come with time, but I consider Blood to be nothing short of a masterpiece, taking inspiration of a prestigious set of predecessors, using their concepts in an unconventional way, resulting in something absolutely gorgeous. Blood is amongst the greatest debuts for any director, and Costa displays a confidence and maturity in making this film that very few seasoned cinematic veterans would ever dare attempt. Blood is a film filled with hidden meanings and profound allusions, and perhaps the best way to end this rambling but passionate account for my personal feelings towards this towering film is with the beautiful final words of the aforementioned “This Is the Day”

“You could have done anything, if you wanted

And all your friends and family think that you’re lucky

But the side of you they’ll never see

Is when you’re left alone with your memories

That hold your life together, like glue”

The haunting memories of the past, the uncertainty of the future and the unpredictability of chance are the cornerstones of the human experience, and such a concept has never been as beautifully expressed in Blood, which is quite simply nothing short of a cinematic miracle.