7.7/10
Senior Film Conservator

A definitive 7.7/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. A Canção de Lisboa remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you're into vintage cinema that smells like old theater seats and earnest acting, you’ll probably have a good time with A Canção de Lisboa. It’s light, it’s breezy, and it’s surprisingly persistent for a movie from 1933. If you get bored when people talk for ten minutes straight without an explosion or a car chase, you’re going to hate this. It’s not for the impatient, but it sure is cozy.
Vasco Santana is the guy who carries this whole thing. He’s got that specific kind of frantic energy that makes you want to both help him and smack him upside the head. Watching him juggle his fake medical career is like watching someone try to hold a dozen slippery eels at once. You just know one is going to snap back and hit him in the face eventually. 🐟
There’s a part in the middle that drags, I won't lie. I checked my watch. Maybe it’s just me, but the rhythm feels a bit stuck in the mud for a solid fifteen minutes. It’s like the movie forgot it had a plot to finish and just wanted to hang out in a cafe. Honestly, I kind of get it.
If you enjoy these kinds of classic comedies, this reminds me a bit of the vibe you get in Dalagang bukid or maybe even the lighter moments in Prix de beauté (Miss Europe). They share that same DNA of people just trying to survive their own bad decisions while looking reasonably well-dressed.
The whole thing feels very theatrical, like it was filmed on a stage. You can almost see the wires. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just… honest. It doesn’t try to convince you it’s real life, and that’s refreshing in a way. 🎭
I left the movie feeling like I just had a really long coffee with a friend who talks too much. It wasn't perfect, it was slightly repetitive, but I didn't hate the company. Sometimes that's enough.