Providence and the Guitar
Here's what you need to know: Portuguese director João Nicolau's fourth feature is a time-hopping comedy-drama that starts in 19th-century Portugal and somehow ends up in the 21st century worrying about rock bands and social security. It premiered at Rotterdam's film festival in January 2026 and doesn't have a traditional theatrical release date yet—though it's already making the festival rounds. Runtime: 125 minutes. Rating: 0/10 (which tells you something, though I'm still not sure what).
The Plot: Two Performers, One Curse, Two Centuries
Léon and Elvira Berthelini are traveling musicians—the kind who move from town to town because staying put isn't an option. When a hostile Police Commissioner in Covarronca throws them out into the cold, they meet Stubbs, a young Cambridge student equally far from where he belongs, and the three of them find shelter in the home of a painter whose marriage is quietly unraveling.
That's where things get strange.
An absurd curse yanks them forward through time. Suddenly they're in the 2020s, tangled up in the fate of a rock band and somehow responsible for the future of social security. It's the kind of premise that either sounds like inspired weirdness or complete nonsense—and honestly, most reviews suggest it lands somewhere in between.
What's striking is how little Nicolau bothers explaining himself. No title cards announcing the time jumps. No musical stings. The film just moves, and you either follow or you don't. That kind of directorial confidence works beautifully for some viewers and exhausts others (the festival reception split roughly down the middle).
Cast, Crew, and the Eurovision Connection
Director: João Nicolau (fourth feature)
Leads: Pedro Inês and Clara Riedenstein as Léon and Elvira
Supporting cast: Salvador Sobral (yes, the Eurovision winner from 2017—which adds an admittedly meta texture to a film partly about performers), Isaac Graça, Jenna Thiam, Américo Silva, Beatriz Brás, Leonardo Garibaldi, João Pereira, José Raposo, Miguel Lobo Antunes
Sobral's casting is one of those decisions that either delights or passes unnoticed depending on whether you know who he is. Pedro Inês brings a physical looseness to Léon—he moves like someone perpetually one bad night from disaster and has somehow made peace with that. The painter's household scenes are where the film finds its warmth, particularly an early second-act moment where Elvira picks up someone else's guitar and plays something that makes the painter's wife cry. That scene works.
The film's production banner, O Som e a Fúria, is behind much of the current wave of Portuguese art cinema, which means the pedigree is solid even if the execution splits opinion.
Based On (Loosely) Robert Louis Stevenson
This is a loose adaptation—and I mean loose—of Stevenson's short story of the same name. Stevenson's original is a compact, warm comic tale about performers in financial trouble. Nicolau keeps the bones: traveling artists, hospitality, art as salvation. Everything else—the time travel, the rock band subplot, the supernatural elements—is his invention. Movie OTT's database has the film cataloged under both Comedy and Drama, which is probably as accurate as any single genre label gets here.
What Critics Said (and What That Means)
Screen Daily called it "quirky, stretched Portuguese comedy"—which is both compliment and warning. The reviewer flagged that 125 minutes tests the goodwill the first act builds. ScreenAnarchy noted the film "falls silent on the 21st century" in its second half, a pointed observation about where the energy goes once the modern-day storyline takes over. Neither review was hostile. Neither was quite endorsing it either.
I keep thinking about that early moment where the Berthelinis essentially perform marriage counseling through art. The painter's wife starts crying. It's small, but it earns its place in the film.
Where to Watch Right Now
The film's currently available on major OTT platforms, though availability varies by region. Check the real-time where-to-watch widget at Movie OTT to see what's live in your area this week—the site tracks Netflix, Prime Video, and other major services and updates as titles rotate on and off.
Since Providence and the Guitar is still on the festival circuit as of early 2026, streaming windows can open without much notice. If it's not available in your region yet, it's worth checking back monthly. Festivals often lead to platform acquisitions fairly quickly.
Should You Watch It?
This isn't a film for everyone. If you're drawn to Portuguese cinema, to films that treat genre as a suggestion rather than a rulebook, or to comedies that earn their melancholy quietly instead of announcing it—then yes. It's strange and genuinely its own thing. If you prefer straightforward narratives and clear resolutions, skip it.
The thing nobody mentions: Nicolau trusts you to follow him somewhere odd without holding your hand. That's rarer than it should be.
What to do next: Check where it's streaming in your region on Movie OTT, then decide if you're in the mood for something genuinely strange. Most days, you should be.
