The Lone Wolf

When Vitor (Adriano Luz) arrives at work, breezing down the corridor in no particular hurry, he’s four minutes late. Not a big deal in most workplaces, but in radio, where silence is nigh unforgiveable, it’s extremely inconsiderate. His apology is casual, devoid of any real concern. Just a small thing. Just four minutes. An indication, nonetheless, of his self-centred approach to life, his easy disregard for the effect of his behaviour on other people.

His listeners don’t consider him uncaring. He is O Lobo Solitário, the Lone Wolf who gets them through the night, mixing music with chat, entertaining long distance lorry drivers and lonely insomniacs. Tonight they are going to be talking about emotions. When Vitor gets a call from old friend Raul (António Fonseca), however, the night takes an abrupt turn. Raul has some serious accusations to make, live on air, and Vitor has to figure out how to handle the situation.

Are Raul’s claims true or false? That never becomes clear – it may be that it never could, no matter how much time we had, and Filipe Melo’s Oscar-shortlisted film runs to only 23 minutes. It’s clear that either way, Vitor is going to deny them – and under enough pressure, he might affirm them either way, too. Nevertheless, his reaction tells us a good deal, and serves as a form of commentary on wider issues. As a talk show host, he is skilled in controlling the tone of conversations, and keeps trying to steer his show back to normality. The film’s ending suggests that this will be impossible, but for a while at least, that possibility lingers, and is disturbing either way.

Also uncomfortable here is the response of listeners. Some, seen in a social media feed, are clearly keen to believe the worst straight away, without any additional evidence. Others are just as quick to take Vitor’s side, clearly under the impression that they know him, and confident that nobody they know could ever do anything bad. If there’s one person who really does know him, it’s likely his colleague Sandra (Maria João Pinho), whom we see on the other side of the glass screen which forms one wall of the studio, and whose reaction is intriguing.

With most of the action captured in a single shot, the film really puts Vitor on the spot, and Luz, on excellent form, delivers a performance which is fluid and ambiguous, human emotions intermittently concealed behind steely professionalism. We see the guardedness of a public figure who knows better than to give away too much of himself, the arrogance of a man who is confident in his position, and moments of insecurity which seem to stem from the shock of being questioned. What’s notably missing is any real impression of empathy. Vitor’s concern is only for himself.

With Vasco Viana’s elegant cinematography giving the film a polished look which mirrors Vitor’s polished style, The Lone Wolf captures a fictional moment which reflects many real ones, yet it reminds us that, for all our suspicions, it’s impossible to know what really lies behind that façade.