Original title: A Canção de Lisboa

D: José Cottinelli Telmo / 91m

Cast: Vasco Santana, Beatriz Costa, António Silva, Teresa Gomes, Sofía Santos, Alfredo Silva, Ana María, Manoel de Oliveira, Eduardo Fernandes

Vasco Leitão (Santana) is a medical student with two adoring aunts (Gomes, Santos) who have funded his studies, but who are unaware that their nephew has squandered their money on wine, women and song. To make matters worse, he’s told them he’s passed his exams, has an impressive office, and is doing really well. So when they write to him and tell him they plan to visit him, and see how successful he’s become, Vasco doesn’t know what to do.

He confides in his girlfriend, Alice (Costa), with whom he has a relationship fraught with animosity (she can’t stand his flirting with other women, he can’t stand her jealousy). When he tells her of the generous inheritance he stands to gain from his aunts, she in turn tells her father, Caetano (Silva) as a means to persuading him to accept Vasco as a future son-in-law. Caetano sees the light and welcomes Vasco into his home, but Vasco’s landlord (Alfredo Silva) muscles in on Caetano’s plans to appropriate the aunts’ money.

This leads to Vasco being made homeless on the same day as his aunts’ arrival. With the aid of his friends from medical school he manages to distract them both, while Caetano promises to impress them with tales of how Vasco has saved his life. In the process he and Alice have a falling out that ends their relationship. Inevitably his aunts discover the truth and disinherit him (even as they become enamoured of Caetano and Vasco’s now ex-landlord). With no money, no home, no job and no girlfriend, Vasco is at a loss as to what to do next.

A chance encounter with his friend Carlos (de Oliveira) leads to Vasco being asked to sing Fado at a restaurant with a stage area. Unfortunately, by the time he takes to the stage he’s had a little too much to drink and his “performance” sees the audience throw food at him and call for him to leave the stage. Chased off, Vasco ponders on the way in which things have turned out, and as a result he begins to turn his life around, beginning with singing Fado more professionally.

Of interest for being the first Portuguese sound movie to have been produced entirely in Portugal, A Song for Lisbon is also only the second sound movie made in the Portuguese language, after A Severa (1931). Made during a period now regarded by many as Portugal’s Golden Era, the movie is a gleeful mix of comedy, romance and music, a sparkling piece of cinematic confectionery that plays to its strengths: a cast at the top of their game, a storyline that keeps it simple and straightforward, and direction that combines the two effortlessly.

The main draw here, of course, is Santana, already an accomplished stage performer and reminiscent of Roscoe ‘Fatty’ Arbuckle in his prime. This was his first starring role in a full-length movie, and there’s not a trace of nerves or hesitancy in his performance whatsoever. With his cheerful grin and impish sense of humour, allied to various bits of stage work that he manages to include in amongst the comedic goings-on, Santana is never less than fun to watch. His drunken Fado audition is a great example, as he uses a guitar like a tennis racket to fend off the fruit that’s hurtling in his direction – it’s a vaudeville moment, pure and simple, and all the more effective for being so. He’s a star turn, so confident that you wouldn’t be surprised if he turned and winked at the camera every now and then.

Under Telmo’s assured direction, Santana and the rest of the cast revel in the carefree mise-en-scene, with Costa’s angry yet besotted girlfriend proving a great foil for Santana’s mischievousness (their food fight is a highlight). As the devious Caetano, Silva manages to avoid twirling his moustache in the manner of a silent movie villain, but otherwise it’s a similar performance, perfectly executed and with just the right amount of self-awareness amidst all the pomposity. The sequence where he oversees the crowning of Miss Seamstress (unsurprisingly it’s Alice), is a masterclass in suppressed humility and blatant favouritism. Further down the list of course is de Oliveira, making his first credited appearance as an actor (he wouldn’t do so again until 1963). He doesn’t have a big part, nor does he stand out particularly, but in some strange way it’s fun to see him in the prime of life, and not as the centenarian director he became famous for.

The movie also works in various Lisbon locations, but its opening credits sequence aside, manages to avoid becoming a kind of travelogue for the city, and instead uses it as a beautiful backdrop, and thereby enhancing the story. The musical numbers include a melancholy song of love sung by Costa that is as touching now as it was then, and a sweetly ridiculous number called The Thimble and the Needle (also sung by Costa). It all adds up to a glorious piece of entertainment that gallops along while barely pausing for breath, and which sets out to entertain its audience thoroughly, and thoroughly succeeds.

Rating: 9/10 – a perfect example of how to transfer an energetic, entertaining script to the screen and make it sing, A Song of Lisbon is both delightful and delicious; a triumph for all concerned and in comparison with some of the musicals being produced by Hollywood at the time, absolutely streets ahead.

NOTE: There’s no trailer available for A Song of Lisbon, but the following clip gives a good example of the humour involved: