Venice Film Festival 2022 | Wolf and Dog

Wolf and Dog from writer/director Cláudia Varejão (and co-writer Leda Cartum) visually draws its title from a scene where the two leads, Ana (played by Ana Cabral) and Luis (Ruben Pimenta), wear wolf and dog masks in class. The entire class wore animal masks for the lesson. It’s something so over the top. It’s one of those things that feels drawn from someone’s memory. Visceral. A teacher’s attempt to engage the students. But the masks also hide them, and much of the story is about characters feeling lost/adrift in their community and the masks they wear.

Ana is the main protagonist, a queer character that is the embodiment of yearning. Her character is all want. She’s not a vocal character, but she communicates her desires with looks and touches, inviting the audience to seek with her. She lives in a very catholic community on São Miguel on the Azores. The Azores is an archipelago in the Atlantic Ocean. Even the largest city, has a relatively small population. I stopped there on a trip between mainland Portugal and Toronto, and I can imagine it would feel very insular or isolating. So, for a character, who is both queer and catholic, the small community must make it hard to find her place. But we do see a small but vibrant queer community, one that has each other’s back within the film. And Ana is right there, and she takes space, and in her own way, she moves towards what she wants. And her wants aren’t just related to her attraction to women. Right from the beginning, you can see that despite loving her family, she wants to leave. She’s at her most free when overlooking the water with the kindly cruise ship lady or on the road on her moped.

Luis is queer in an undeniable way. He’s flamboyant, and his father does not accept him. Luis’ attempts to gain his father’s love are so disheartening, especially when you see the love Luis has from his community and his mother. But each time Luis is down after one of these experiences, his community rallies around him. There’s a sequence where all the queer characters literally gather around him, as if coming together for a family portrait, but one where Luis is a Messiah-like figure in the centre, that drove this home. The film doesn’t ignore that within this ultra-religious community there are some anti-LGBTQ+ sentiments, but it also doesn’t live there, choosing to focus more on queer community.

I really liked the way cinematographer Rui Xavier captured light. There was a gorgeous shot of Luis moving through the frame with a light-up cape that was stunning. There was also a cheeky scene of Ana and Cloé (played by Cristiana Branquinho) where light reflected a rainbow prism on their two entwined hands/bodies.

I was left with questions about the repeated motif of the dead chicken in the chicken coop because it felt like it was leading up to something that never paid off/played out. There was also sometimes a question of POV, most notably when Ana’s giving her little brother a wash and turns off his hearing aid, the audio for the audience also distorts. This would’ve worked if we were in the brother’s POV but were extensively in Ana’s POV so it didn’t track.

The film could’ve been a little shorter, and Ana’s brother’s storyline could’ve used a little more fleshing out, but Wolf and Dog overall Varejão did a good job of capturing the yearning and desire to forge your own path, and the fear of leaving behind your loved ones to do so.

Stray Note

Ana delivers pineapples to the cruise ship. São Miguel is known for its pineapple plantations. If you ever get a chance to have one of their pineapples, do. They are delicious and sweeter than your average pineapple.

Wolf and Dog (Portugal, France) premiered at the Venice International Film Festival in the autonomous section Giornate Degli Autori.

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