O Riso e a Faca (I Only Rest in the Storm), as seen by Pedro Pinho
In O Riso e a Faca, his new feature film presented in Un Certain Regard, Pedro Pinho follows Sergio, a Portuguese environmental engineer who moves to a West African metropolis to work on a road-building project linking the jungle to the desert. The Portuguese director examines the post-colonial asymmetries between Europe and West Africa, in a free and lively style, shot through the impulses of his actors.
What inspired you to begin working on this film?
The film was born from the need to think about Europe and its relationship with the world. Over the years, through several trips and extended stays in West Africa — particularly Mauritania and Guinea-Bissau — I found myself increasingly compelled to confront the dissonance between the European fantasy and the historical, political, and symbolic consequences of its presence elsewhere. What moved me wasn’t a desire to represent a place or a culture, but rather the shock of an “encounter”. An often violent one. A moment that revealed the deep asymmetries that still persist — in new forms, but with familiar logic. The film emerged as a way of sitting with these questions; not necessarily to resolve them, but to address them and discuss them in a cinematic form.
What was your working method ?
Our working method was based on building a kind of controlled disorientation. The script was written, with full dialogue, but the actors and crew only had limited access to it. They kept the dramatic intention of each scene, but not the lines themselves. From that partial memory, the action would unfold — improvised, yet structured by invisible anchors. The camera never anticipated. It reacted. It followed the gestures, the hesitations, the rhythms of bodies, not entirely sure of what was coming next. We created a system where the camera — and the crew — had to synchronize with the present moment, as if it were life itself. It was, in many ways, a choreography of chaos. An exercise in collective concentration where everyone was writing the film in real time. There were moments when the set felt more like a crossroads than a studio — especially because we were, in fact, moving. We were crossing borders, changing landscapes, meeting people and places that became like dramatic material. Often, we’d arrive somewhere and ask, “Can we film here, now?” And sometimes we would recreate exactly what had just happened — as if the camera had always been rolling.
Can you share a few words about your actors ?
The actors weren’t chosen only for their photographic qualities, but primarily for their subjectivity. For the kind of inner movement they could bring into the space of the film. The characters were not defined in advance — they were transformed, rewritten, sometimes even reinvented, by the people who gave them a body and a voice. Each actor was invited to bring out as much of themselves as they wanted — or were able — to offer. And that could change daily. Sometimes they gave more, sometimes less. Sometimes they refused. That negotiation was part of the film. It shaped the scenes, the dialogue, the atmosphere. Their presence, their contradictions, their refusals — all of that is in the film. The film would not exist without their courage, their discomfort, and their generosity.