Set on the island of São Miguel, one of the Azorean islands, an autonomous region of Portugal, Wolf and Dog challenges the orthodoxy and heteronormativity of the island’s religious culture through very patient, almost dreamlike storytelling. Ana (Ana Cabral) is a young woman whose heart and head are often torn in two directions. Her best friend Luis (Ruben Pimenta) and romantic interest Cloé (Cristiana Branquinho) are much further along in coming out of the closet than she is. The film doesn’t specifically answer how Ana comes to identify herself at the end of a long summer, but it doesn’t really need to. The empathy and humanity of this film is more than enough.
What I find fascinating here is how director Cláudia Varejão subtly explores pernicious double standards among deeply religious and/or homophobic communities. Luis is a young man who everyone knows is gay; he isn’t hiding in the slightest. Most of Ana’s family and friends (she hangs out with many, many folks on the LGBTQ+ spectrum) know she’s not attached to the social traditions of the island either, although because she’s a girl and presents like one, she isn’t constantly questioned or berated for her activities or attractions. It’s also much easier for her and Cloé to have their clandestine fling and not have anyone discover it.
Luis, on the other hand, faces harassment and discrimination at many turns. His own father turns to religion to “pray it away” despite years of status-quo handwringing, and Luis’ mother being much more accepting. It’s when Luis enters into some of the island’s more distinct religious traditions, trying to fit in and show his father grace, that this conflict escalates. Like everything else in the film, this plot moves gradually, poetically, not with much overt dialogue. It gives the viewer an overall picture of what life is like for young people in this community, rather than devolving into histrionics. Although there are times when I would have liked a bit more context for certain situations, a window can often work just as well as an open door.
As the film moves along, one thing which really suffers from its hazy style is our sense of Ana and Luis’ friendship. The dichotomy between their experiences is certainly interesting as a thesis, but by the time we reach climactic moments where we’re meant to feel their bond, they have spent so much time apart, especially in the second half, that the bond is nowhere near as strong as it could and should be. There is, however, a beautiful tableau of the entire friend group set to some beautiful opera singing which anchors the film’s stylistic choices, regardless of how weak or strong the characters’ bonds feel.
For all its shortcomings, Varejão’s style does feel of a piece with the remote island setting. There’s a lot of talk of finding one’s home here, woven in with talk of finding one’s identity. For Ana, this discovery comes in waves, just as the waves which constantly crash all around these characters. The storytelling itself moves in waves, and that’s a calming influence which hopefully leaves the viewer more open to possibility than they might have been before seeing the film. | George Napper
In Portuguese and French with English subtitles
