By Daniel Bickermann. While we tend to give nations from the former Eastern Bloc the benefit of the doubt and lots of time for the admittedly tough transition period from communism to democracy, most people forget the massive upheavals that in the south-western corners of the European continent still cast their long shadows into the present. Up until the Carnation Revolution in April 1974, Portugal was the last Fascist state left in Europe, and the Salazar regime, of which most of Portugal’s population still has a vivid memory, cannot be ignored when studying the nation’s film history: Its legacy is one of the poorest and most religious countries of Europe – and of the most disorganized and most bureaucratic ones.

The Early Years

In the very beginning Portugal actually had its finger on the pulse of film history: In 1896, only six month after the brothers Lumiére did it in Paris, there was a first public film screening in Lisbon, using a different projector, the “teatrograf” by Robert William Paul. The first Portuguese film was then produced several years later, when pioneer Costa Veiga captured King Carlos I on film during public and private occasions. The first cinema opened its doors in 1904, the first production company was founded in 1909 when the first documentary features were filmed. But the country lost its early headstart during the 1910s and 20s: The chaotic First Republic, shaken by revolts from both the Left and the Right, was a turbulent time for the economy, so that domestic and foreign production companies were founded and went bankrupt in rapid order. The main pioneer of that time surely was José Leitão de Barros, who also filmed the first Portuguese talkie.

Salazar

The 30s saw the beginning of the Fascist Salazar regime. The simultaneously developing talking pictures were used for propaganda and entertainment purposes, which was reflected most of all in a stream of nationalist history epics. But this was also the Golden Age of the Portuguese comedy. The founding of a Portuguese Cinematheque, Italian Neo Realism, French Nouvelle Vague, and the Brazilian Cinema Novo (which was completely ignored in Portugal) didn't have any resonance in Portuguese cinema. A distinct Portuguese film culture couldn't develop in this climate of strict censorship until 1974. For decades the film industry was, just like everything else in the country, stagnating on the lowest possible level, with usually around four or five features produced each year, none of which made any kind of impression at the domestic or foreign box office or award ceremonies; and with only about 400, partly rather derelict, theatres, which were mainly situated in the cultural centres Lisbon, Porto and Coimbra. Only the production of short propaganda and educational films was flourishing. The country's most prominent film festival explicitly dealt with “Agricultural, Ecological and Bucolic” cinema. As Salazar once said himself: The Portuguese people are only interested in three Fs: Football, (sad folk music) Fado and (the pilgrimage church) Fatima. Film starts with an F, but it's nowhere near this list.

The Long Way Down

In 1974 hopes were paramount that now things would have to improve, and filmmakers like Manoel de Oliveira, Joao Mario Grillo or Pedro Costa had their films accepted in Venice, Cannes and Berlin, with Oliveira even winning awards. Alas: At home everything went to the dogs. Instead of a boom there was another slump: In the mid-90s, there were only 250 film theatres left, and when at the turn of the century attendance numbers were made public for the first time, the Portuguese film had a domestic market share of 0.7%. For years and years, the most successful domestic films were only seen by something like 50.000 people and most of the time didn't even make it into the year's Top 50 films at the box office. A share of the blame for those horrendous figures has to be attributed to the decade-long bureaucratic argy-bargy, consisting of internal quarrels, political promises not kept and raging incompetence, which in combination lead to the Portuguese Institute for Cinematographical and Visual Art (IPACA), which originally was founded to support and promote Portuguese cinema, being constantly abolished and re-founded, in one incarnation as the Institute for Cinema and Audiovisual Media (ICAM), then as the Institute for Cinematographics (ICP). In this decade-long yoyo-course there was no chance for either of this institutions to secure a steady budget. The only people working successfully in this kind of environment were producers like Paulo Branco or Alexandre Valente, who had learned to produce films without state funding and who could instead rely on international sales for their films.

A late turnaround?

Some few Portuguese actors have found fame through said international co-productions during the last decades. Joaquim de Almeida, being fluent in six languages, has become a favourite for Hollywood productions when it comes to casting South American drug lords or villains. And Maria de Medeiros has been working with Quentin Tarantino, Istvan Szabo, Philip Kaufman and Guy Maddin, earning herself the Golden Lion in Venice as best actress.

Portuguese directors or films rarely receive this kind of honours on an international stage. Even after the bad news of the disappearingly small audience attendance had surface it still took almost a decade until finally the political will could be gathered to change the broken system. In 2009, ten years after it was announced, a National Film Fund was finally established, although up to now it has supported mostly commercial fare that would better belong on TV, and didn't even have much luck in the bargain. Today the Portuguese films are still struggling to keep their market share of 2-3% in the 600 domestic film theatres, while short film director Joao Salaviza recently brought home a Palm d'Or from Cannes. So is it the same old story all over again? Speaking of old: Tireless Manoel de Oliveira is still out there and is by now being regarded as the oldest director in the business, who's still active. He directed his debut, a documentary feature, in 1932 and now, at the incredible age of 102, he still churns out one new feature every year. Whoever manages to win a lifetime achievement award at the Berlin Film Festival in 1981 and almost 30 years and just as many films later in 2009 returns to get the same award again – that takes some stamina. They aren't very numerous, those Portuguese, but there sure as hell are tenacious.

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• SUBTITLE GIRL (P 2009. Gonçalo Soares)