Interview with Francisco Monteiro Jr. a Brazilian filmmaker and writer born in Piauí, recognized for his refined cinematic language and for overcoming the physical limitations of dyskinetic cerebral palsy (DCP) to reflect on, teach, and make cinema.
Francisco Monteiro Jr.
A Brazilian filmmaker and writer born in Piauí, recognized for his refined cinematic language and for overcoming the physical limitations of dyskinetic cerebral palsy (DCP) to reflect on, teach, and make cinema.
He was awarded Best Director for two consecutive years at FIACINE (Ibero-American Film Festival) for his short films Estalos and Georgia, and currently serves as Regional Sub-director at the Brazilian Association of Screenwriters and Authors (ABRA), representing the State of Piauí.
In 2004, he founded Doroteu Filmes, an independent Brazilian production company associated with API (Association of Independent Producers), classified as Level 1 by Ancine (National Cinema Agency), and headquartered in Teresina, Piauí. Since its inception, the company has continuously produced short, medium-length, and feature-length fiction and documentary films, winning over 25 awards at national and international festivals. It stands out for its authorial consistency, the strength of its narratives, and its ability to build partnerships that expand the reach of its works.
At the age of 15, he debuted in literature with the horror/detective novel As Sete Vidas do Gato (1998), published through the A. Tito Filho State Law for Local Culture Incentives. He followed this with A Obscuridade Humana (1999), published by the Federal University of Piauí Press (EDUFPI), and O Confidente (2003), a work that earned him the 2001 Fontes Ibiapina Novel Award from the Piauí State Culture and Sports Foundation (FUNDEPI). In 2026, he began releasing e-books on Amazon, such as the erotic-existentialist short story gashô, the meta-fictional [intermissio], antes de você, depois de mim, and the imagist novella agudo, which became a bestseller in the Music, Humor, and Entertainment category. All of his titles are also available on Kindle Unlimited.
His venture into audiovisual media began when he wrote and directed the medium-length film No Meio do Caminho (2004), produced in partnership with friends. Since then, he has directed works such as:
- Insone (2005): A suspense short film awarded Best Film at the Piauí Festvideo.
- Dona Maria (2010): A docudrama offering a sensitive look at loneliness and abandonment in old age.
- Qualquer Hora Dessas (2012): A feature film that won Best Screenplay and Best Actress at the National Cinema Encounter of the Sertões.
- Estado da Arte [Adriano Abreu] (2017): A documentary short film that received screenwriting and cinematography awards.
- Estalos (2023): Funded by the State's inaugural film grant promoted by the Piauí State Secretariat of Culture (Secult-PI), this film achieved widespread recognition, collecting 15 awards at national and international festivals.
- Georgia (2025): A fiction short film intertwining mental rumination with the boundaries of the actor's process, which won 5 awards—4 of them at the 12th FIACINE (Ibero-American Film Festival) in the Brazil Fiction Competition: Best Film, Direction, Screenplay, and Performance.
- He is currently completing post-production on Fractal, shot in São Paulo.
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt36381225/
Monteiro Jr. holds degrees in Psychology and Journalism, a Master's degree in Literature, and worked as a film critic from 1999 to 2014 for print and online newspapers. Since 2006, he has taught film courses, workshops, and masterclasses across various institutions and projects.
1. How do Estalos and Georgia reflect your personal artistic evolution between 2023 and the present?
Estalos and Georgia came from very different moments and distinct emotional states. The screenplay for Estalos sat in a drawer for a decade because we didn't have the funding to produce it. We had made a short documentary called Estado da Arte, which was basically an interview with theater director Adriano Abreu. That project left me deeply reflective about the direction my personal life was taking and the actual production landscape we had in Piauí. I remember genuinely wanting to step away from audiovisual production and dedicate myself to something else, something that would give me better peace of mind and more stable financial returns. I confess that temptation still crosses my mind today.
So, when Estalos was approved in the first local audiovisual grant in 2017, I was lingering in that vibe. Even with funding delays, cast changes, and the chaos of the COVID-19 pandemic, we threw ourselves into it with everything we had and everything we knew, intending to build a short that was a true cinematic experience. I really wanted to make a film, even as a short, that brought all the basic elements of cinema into its language and conception in a pulsing, narrative way. Not just telling a story, but having a distinct approach that explored cinematic language in a very assertive way, specific to what was being made locally.
And I believe it worked out great. Estalos managed, in its own way and on its journey, to break through some bubbles and is today the most awarded short film from Piauí in film festivals. But I am restless. I wanted the next short to take a few more risks, not be so neat and tidy, and have a raw, artisanal quality. I wanted it to be a vomit of ideas and anxieties I was carrying. And that’s how Georgia was born: sort of to mess with any expectations people had of me.
Doroteu Filmes — the filmmaker’s production-company YouTube channel:
https://www.youtube.com/user/fcmctheyoutube
2. What inspired the existential theme of an actor in conflict with his own character in Georgia?
We all wear characters and are in constant conflict with them. Casting an actor to personify that was just an instinctive indulgence I took in Georgia. I didn't want to rationalize it. I wanted it to be the exact antithesis of Estalos. No budget, no plot, shot quickly, and finished with urgency. I was about to leave for an extended stay outside of Piauí, and I wanted Georgia to be, in a way, my farewell. All that purification of language, that conceptualization giving way to intuition, to the risk of making something without too much planning. The risk of doing something that could go wrong. Maybe I am creatively self-destructive, who knows?
https://www.instagram.com/doroteufilmes/
https://www.geleiatotal.com.br/2023/05/21/uma-leitura-sobre-a-corporeidade-no-curta-metragem-estalos/
But Georgia gave me the opportunity to rid myself of things that had accompanied me for a long time: feelings in their verbal forms. If my previous critique of expository dialogue led me to make Estalos, this time it would be radically the opposite. I would make a short completely rooted in how the character (or even the actor) vomits out those lines.
Estalos (2023) — festival online-screening page; playback availability is unverified:
https://dedallusplay.com/estalos-pagina-filme-mostra-online/dedallusplay
3. What was it like working with the lead actor to navigate a performance that blurs fiction and identity?
As I was saying, I didn't want to rationalize the process. I wanted to test myself under pressure - to discover the short film as we were making it, alongside the crew. So, the first thing we did was skip rehearsals. Marcel (the protagonist of Georgia) comes from the theater. Skipping rehearsals is almost a sacrilege to him. How do you step into a character without preparation? How do you incorporate the director’s vision without talking it through first? What on earth was this movie, anyway? What would it be like? What was it about? I didn't know. I believe the crew didn't know either.
That’s the beauty of it; that’s the risk. When you make a project with zero budget, the freedom you have allows for certain boldness. Once again, running the risk of failing. That’s what I was looking for. Aside from banning rehearsals or any preparation beyond a single location scout, there was also no script reading. Nor did I allow Marcel to memorize the text. He only read it once, and looking back, I think he shouldn't have read it at all. If I was going to test myself in the dark, everyone would be tested too.
During the process, I discovered I didn't want to "know" this character; I didn't want to know precisely what he was saying. I wanted to notice where the actor was, where the persona he was projecting through the text lived. I wanted to spot the moments when those cracks became visible in front of the camera. Making him run and get exhausted sort of catalyzed all of that. The body left the actor exposed, and with the exposed actor, it was much easier for the supposed character to be contaminated by him. That is precisely what I was intuitively looking for.
On the other hand, some things were arranged seconds before a take began. So, not everything is a cognitive slip of an actor lacking cartesian control over the material, and not everything is mise-en-scène. There is a gray area between the two that interested me deeply. When I watch the film, it intrigues me to guess where Marcel is, where the character is, and above all, at what moment these two entities diverge or pull completely apart. I like playing that guessing game. Georgia is not a narrative film in the comfortable sense of the term. It’s a thesis film, almost an experimental essay that doesn't quite commit to being one, solely because the bridge scenes, before and after, contextualize a little story of self-abandonment.
- Estalos (2023) — FilmFreeway project page, not a confirmed full-film stream:
https://filmfreeway.com/estalos-doroteufilmfreeway
https://filmfreeway.com/estalos-doroteu#ff_javascript
4. What thematic elements connect the stories you choose to bring to life?
Thematically, I like marginalized characters. I like characters who are experiencing a moment of crisis, who are wounded, who are stranded within themselves. I always look for that sensation, to convey a sense of crossing, but an interior crossing, one that the character alone is responsible for. Inadequacy in the face of existence is another thing that, consciously or not, ends up imprinted on the films I make, even if I later catch myself wondering why.
The characters never react the way you expect them to react. They never take the easy way out to overcome things. It’s always an internal conflict, a feeling of being an alien within one's own daily life. I find that very powerful, and I think it becomes visible when you line the films up side by side and see how present those elements are in each of them.
Beyond that, there's the body. How dramatic issues are somatized in the character's body, in the actor's body. That’s another element I am becoming increasingly conscious of: how much the actor's body is a potent element of discourse within the guts of the narratives I create. They are bodies in short-circuit, to quote a presentation given by producer Regina França at the university the other day.
Estado da Arte: Adriano Abreu (2017) — Vimeo link embedded in Geleia Total’s profile of Adriano Abreu; I could not verify the video’s title or playback:
https://vimeo.com/262397334geleiatotal
Geleia Total Artist Profile: Read an extensive Portuguese biography highlighting his multiple career paths in Teresina, detailing his books (As Sete Vidas do Gato), film critiques, and his work as a psychology practitioner.
5. How do you approach narrative rhythm and tension in psychologically oriented films?
Rhythm is one of the elements I worry about the most. I worry about rhythm right there during the scriptwriting stage. I truly believe a good script carries the rhythmic intention of the images within the arrangement of its sentences, like a pre-editing phase, really. I write the script like an edit, or I write by editing, and that writing continues into post-production. For me, the whole process is a single act of writing.
Rhythm is that tangible structure I am always looking at when I start a project. The logic doesn't change just because we have a more psychological or intimate approach, because we are dealing with images. Even if it's the character's subjectivity, tapping into their sensations to bring out their inner world, we still need to tell that story through images. Tension, whatever kind it may be, has to start with the character and then be somatized into the body of the film and the arrangement of the images.
Conecta Piauí Interview Podcast: Access a special coverage piece and interview where he breaks down the social impacts of northeastern cinema and narrative building for Brazilian Cinema Day.
6. What visual techniques were used to reflect the inner turmoil in Georgia?
First, the most obvious one: handheld camera. When it comes to, as you put it, internal or external turmoil, bringing the viewer straight into the action and generating immediate empathy, handheld camera work is an impulse that almost never disappoints. In Georgia, we anchor the character's journey with a handheld camera kept very close to his face.
Speaking of journeys, it's no accident that the film begins and ends with the character (at those points, it is the character, not the actor) standing on a bridge. But then we have that radical break with the static tone in the dramatic core of Georgia: when character and actor take turns in this circular run of emotional purging. The static camera and wide shot in black and white highlight all the strangeness of the situation: an empty warehouse where this shirtless subject exhausts himself physically, losing his breath from running in circles between line readings. Readings that usually come out mangled and wrong.
My initial idea was for that entire sequence to be a single wide shot lasting 20 minutes without a single cut. And that’s how it was shot. We repeated the take about two and a half times until I realized the actor couldn't give anymore. In total, he had been running and talking for about an hour. Aside from being completely out of shape (which, of course, wasn't ideal), I soon discovered that Marcel had undergone heart surgery some time back. Without knowing it, I could have sent my actor straight to the hospital. Fortunately, that didn't happen.
What did happen was that the uncut wide shot, lasting exactly 20 minutes, wasn't telling me anything in terms of language. It just looked like a director torturing an actor rather unkindly. That’s when I noticed how Marcel's apneas drew attention in an almost suffocating way. That was our cue - myself and my co-editor, Matheus Vilarindo - to chop up the long take, motivating the cuts by Marcel's loss of breath. Or was it the character's breath? Truth be told, those apneas, those gasps for air (which earned me a stern scolding from my doctor brother), were what shaped the formal language of Georgia.
https://www.instagram.com/doroteufilmes/
Mostra Piranhão de Cinema Film Review: Review artistic curatorial notes on his experimental fiction short film Estalos, which tackles urban alienation in the city of Teresina.
7. How has the feedback received at film festivals shaped your perspective on these two works?
I wouldn't go so far as to say it changed my perspective on Estalos and Georgia. The films are the same before and after festivals. And for now, I'm glad to have made them each in their own time and in their own way. They are shorts that converse with one another just as much as they distance themselves. I like that.
However, I know how important festivals are—both to validate the work our team did and to introduce these works to an audience. Films that aren't seen are sad. To me, festivals are windows, opportunities for the work that started inside my head to reverberate out to people I will never get to meet. I think that’s the most fascinating thing about festivals.
8. What direction do you plan to take next with your production company, Doroteu Filmes?
We have another fiction short called Fractal, which was shot last year in São Paulo and is expected to be released next year. That short sort of closes a trilogy with the two we just discussed. Completely different languages and themes, but with intersecting elements. Actors, bodies, and characters are very present in Fractal, which is my first queer narrative.
Beyond that, there are feature-film funding applications. We have one in the pipeline, waiting for a grant call to open, which is the viable way to make films in Brazil. I just hope the country's political situation doesn't push me away from cinema just so I can sustain myself as a person. That would be existentially frustrating.