Magoado

When Peio and Markel first meet, their interactions are tense throughout Magoado. Peio acts brusquely and dispassionately, determined to buy Markel a ticket home. A deeper fear prevents him from accepting his son into his life. While Peio’s voice says one thing, his body language says another. In a performance mainly steered by action and nonverbal cues, Alvarez portrays the character beautifully, giving one of the year’s best performances.

Now, that’s not to say he outshines Rockenbach, who is just as exceptional in his emotionally honest portrayal of a child wanting a relationship with their father while still displaying the courage to walk away. Alvarez and Rockenbach tread very carefully to make every ebullition of anger and joy feel sincere, letting the disdain and trust their characters have towards each other reveal themselves gradually. In one of the more heartwarming scenes, the two enjoy sliding down a mountain of sand, and their joy, regardless of how fleeting, is infectious.

“…transpires like a reverie.”

Under Sainz’s staid, visually motivated direction, the growing intimacy between them transpires like a reverie. Employing a vertical aspect ratio and statically framing each shot, the filmmaker’s visual approach is singular and elaborate. Compiling luminously lensed shots of the picturesque harbors, rolling landscapes, and tranquil bodies of water of Santa Catarina, the imagery reels you in, and you stay for the understated drama.

Magoado is measuredly paced, emphasizing the things the characters don’t say to each other. Sainz takes his time establishing the setting and Peio’s self-imposed isolation before introducing Markel. But when they finally divulge what they feel deep down to people they never thought they would see again, it’s emotionally rewarding. The contemplative and visually exquisite drama gets to the heart of parental bonds and understands the emotional work one must do to be granted the opportunity to attain forgiveness.