10th Oct - 31 Oct at 18:30
Ciclo Animist Bodies
Auditório Ilídio Pinho
Animism (from the Latin animus, meaning soul or life) is a worldview in which non-human entities—animals, plants, inanimate objects, or natural phenomena—are believed to possess a spiritual essence.
Contrary to common belief, animist thought is not necessarily tied to the concept of animals but rather to that of the soul, which is believed to be present in all beings, human or not—including animals, but not exclusively.
Moreover, animism is not a single belief system or a structured religious doctrine tied to a specific culture or civilization.
Instead, it represents a shared perspective that connects various religions and belief systems which, despite their differences and geographical distances, share this common foundation.
On the other hand, considering this, it becomes evident that Christian religion and the values that dominate most Western societies do not embrace animist beliefs at all—quite the opposite. In fact, the very act of addressing animism as an isolated concept demonstrates how unfamiliar we are with this perspective.
The relationship we have with nature is primarily antagonistic.
While we acknowledge our inclusion within it, we often perceive nature as an external entity that poses obstacles—something to be conquered and overcome in the pursuit of a more advanced society.
The perspective we aim to explore here does not seek to challenge this relationship because it does not even take it as a starting point.
Instead, through four film screenings, our goal is to encourage reflection on animist experiences that, in some way, subvert our instinctive way of relating to nature and non-human entities.
The central question then arises: What would characterize animist cinema? What would distinguish it from films that merely depict a narrative division between humans and animals, for example? To address this, we must first examine how deeply the Nature/Culture divide influences the way we engage with fiction.
This opposition between Nature and Culture quickly transforms into an opposition between Reality and Invention, which in turn leads to a division between Documentary and Fiction.
This distinction is fundamental in shaping mainstream Western narrative structures, where a film is considered either documentary—linked to reality, the "natural" state, and thus aiming to reflect an inherent truth—or fictional—deliberately invented as a cultural creation, distancing itself from any claims of truth while still maintaining credibility as a possibility.
This is not to say that works haven’t emerged that blur or manipulate this boundary.
However, what I propose are four films that do not even acknowledge the existence of this divide to begin with.
Thus, what I refer to as animist cinema is not only a cinema in which animist belief plays a role in the film's narrative, but one in which the very cinematic execution materializes or reflects this perception and experience of the world.
Accordingly, the title of this cycle, Animist Bodies, refers not only to the various bodies and entities that inhabit these films but also to the films themselves, which are, in a way, animist bodies as well.
The first film, Kummatty, serves as an entry point due to its simplicity and the clarity with which it conveys the perspective explored here.
Combining a realist approach with a narrative driven by mystical perspectives, the supernatural emerges organically, as if it naturally belongs to the film’s reality—which, in turn, is equivalent to our own. Kummatty is a sorcerer, but Kummatty is also a part of and a product of nature. From nature he comes, and to nature he returns.
The second film, Ching Se / Green Snake, is a stark contrast in its highly stylized visual aesthetic. While this departure from realism may seem to distance the film from the themes of this cycle, its place here represents a unique perspective often overlooked when considering the potential of fiction.
Analyzing the concept of legend—a narrative form that blends real and unreal elements—one sees that oral storytelling often emerges from reality but undergoes embellishment, romanticization, or stylization to enhance its dramatic and symbolic weight.
Green Snake is a legend, set in a clearly stylized universe, yet its symbolism is undeniably relevant to our world.
The ordering of the films in this cycle is not merely chronological but also demonstrates a progressive abstraction, which in turn corresponds to a diminishing reliance on traditional narrative structures.
Following this, we present Sud Pralad / Tropical Malady, a contemporary film where fictional storytelling intertwines with the presence of non-professional actors, their real-life experiences, and locations they truly inhabit.
The story is fictional, but as we watch, the feeling that we are witnessing reality never leaves us.
It is a film about desire, and its deeply intertwined connection with the animal world moves us through its effortless authenticity.
We conclude the cycle with Sleep Has Her House, the only film made in a Western context. If the previous screening already showcased a gradual dissolution of narrative structure—replaced by a focus on slowness, small actions, and an immersive appreciation of the world—this final film pushes that idea to its limit.
Throughout its duration, one may question whether it is an experimental documentary or a dystopian fiction set in a world where humans no longer exist. By the end, we are left wondering: could those horses, those mountains, and those waterfalls be the protagonists of their own films?
Mariana Machado (Master's student in New Media Art)