White Impact: Pinho Explores the Ponderous Progress Through Post-Colonial Perceptions
“We never seem to be where we are,” remarks one of the characters in Pedro Pinho’s simmering sophomore feature I Only Rest in the Storm (O riso e a faca), a sort of spiritual follow-up to the Portuguese director’s debut, The Nothing Factory (2017), an equally pregnant minefield of power contradictions. Indeed, a cohort of characters drifting along a chaotic trajectory in modern day Guinea Bissau seem to contribute to yet defy their ability to satisfy professed goals and desires, as if an eternal sense of conditioned displacement demands dissatisfaction of the moment. Their experiences are a microcosm channeling much greater themes regarding intimate realities in a political vacuum, where good intentions are sometimes harmful and selfish resistance sometimes spells survival. In short, the only real rest is afforded the audience, passive observers comfortably engaged in the metaphorical eye of the storm.
Sergio (Sergio Coragem) is an environmental engineer arriving in West Africa to quickly create an impact assessment for the impending construction of a road project. No one knows what happened to the previous engineer, which has thrown the project into a potential tailspin. As Sergio navigates corresponding pressures from various entities involved, he finds himself drawn into the clandestine world of several locals, including Diara (Cleo Diara) and Guillermhe (Jonathan Guilherme).
Pinho’s sometimes meandering narrative tends to focus on Sergio, a handsome, white do-gooder who is immediately pressured to complete the necessary environmental assessment his disappeared predecessor failed to complete. Without his input, the NGO will lose out on the necessary funds earmarked for the supposedly detrimental construction of a road needed to revitalize the region’s commerce capabilities while greatly benefitting the desolate locals and dwindling resources available to them. Sergio, however, seems to utilize the lion’s share of his time on sexual extracurricular activities and Pinho’s film explodes with a physical ripeness which plays like Camus exploring sex tourism. Sergio’s sexual escapades with both Diara and Guilherme suggest his ultimate fascination just might be with the domination or conquering of brown bodies, but nothing about him ever suggests he’s truly satisfied. A seductive cover of Laura Branigan’s “Self Control” at a nightclub implies the real impact assessment we’re witnessing is Sergio’s sexual odyssey. Sergio Coragem (who had a supporting role in Joao Pedro Rodrigues’ supercharged queer spectacle Will-o’-the-Wisp, 2022) remains a tabula rasa, who, despite saying most of the right things, seems to take but never give.
Increasingly, it seems Sergio feels something like the Edward Woodward character in The Wicker Man (1973), a sacrificial figure who is destined for ruination. Pinho keeps everything in a state of indefinite possibility, and there’s an inescapable sense of ambiguity regarding where Sergio ends up, much less the potentially doomed mission of the NGO he works for. Their help often seems like a formidable hindrance, and if anything, Pinho suggests there’s no certain path forward considering no one person or entity’s agenda has pure intentions.
Aggravating, and often sinister, I Only Rest in the Storm thematically runs at a messy steroid charged gallop through these themes, exhibiting an authenticity in the reality of neocolonial intersections but still manages to feel like a heady thesis compared to most contemporary grapplings with white knighting NGO depictions (case in point being Tom Tykwer’s onerous The Light, 2025). “Join the barbarians or do nothing,” Sergio’s told in one of the film’s various, layered conversations. It seems, inadvertently, that has already happened. And Sergio, like his absent predecessor, will suffer the consequences.
Reviewed on May 17th at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival (78th edition) – Un Certain Regard. 211 Mins.
★★★½/☆☆☆☆☆
