Berlinale Review: Two Times João Liberada Examines the Boundaries of Representation

      Among the debut features showcased in Berlinale’s new section called Perspectives, none offers such a refreshingly original perspective on fiction and political history as Two Times João Liberada. This Portuguese gem, directed by Paula Tomás Marques, who has crafted several compelling shorts and worked as a cinematographer on other projects (including Matiás Piñeiro’s You Burn Me), as well as serving as an editor and script supervisor, showcases her extensive involvement in independent film. It is therefore no surprise that her first feature film revolves around the creation of a film itself. Set in Lisbon, João Liberada follows an actress named João (June João, who has collaborated with Marques on shorts and performances) cast as a character with the same name in a low-budget period piece.

      Although our focus remains on João the actress throughout the film, João Liberada is ultimately the story’s true protagonist. The shared name is merely a coincidence; the (male) director chose a trans woman for the lead role, as archival records indicate that Liberada was gender non-conforming. Marques (who also features as a member of the production team) explores the fragile boundary between actor and character. To delve into this relationship, she and June João co-wrote a script that evokes ghostly presences, incorporating another script for the film-within-the-film that is decidedly less captivating.

      As João grapples with the director’s portrayal of Liberada’s narrative, she expresses her dissatisfaction through suggestions while on set. However, as one of her colleagues notes, “If you want to change the script during shooting, it’s always already too late.” The main character is guided by a blend of melancholy and detachment, evident in the candid voiceover that runs throughout João Liberada: making this feature is no simple task, but when an unforeseen incident occurs with the director, João seizes the chance to reshape the story.

      The film examines the politics of a set (“at least the director hired a predominantly LGBTQI+ cast and crew,” João acknowledges) and the representation of trans individuals through a nearly-real fabrication. Although João Liberada is a fictional character, she is inspired by 17th- and 18th-century trial records from the Inquisition targeting gender dissidents. Rather than adhering to a more conventional narrative that aims to "rectify" or "illuminate" these "invisible histories," Marques and her team choose to make a meta-commentary on the subject. The film highlights modes of representation, tropes, and the cautious navigation around them, often at the expense of authenticity regarding actual queer and trans lives, yet does so in an engaging manner: both playful and visually stunning.

      Filmed in striking 16mm and illuminated by summer light, Two Times João Liberada embraces its textured nature: there are editing interventions (led by experimental filmmaker Jorge Jacome) that distinguish “reality” from “the film,” and at times, textual overlays appear on screen as scenes unfold. Light flares and occasional marks on the 16mm footage add a tactile quality that aligns with João’s own dissatisfaction.

      Two Times João Liberada incorporates a wish-fulfillment aspect that is never egotistical. The entire film can be viewed as João’s quest to connect with her queer ancestor, a notion that adds complexity. Representation is not only occasionally unreliable; it is also crucial. With histories constructed in ways that overlook marginalized voices, inquiry, curiosity, and new avenues of connection offer an alternative to conventional archaeology. Marques employs such an anti-archaeological approach in her debut feature to delightful effect: Two Times João Liberada is a small treasure that glimmers vibrantly.

      Two Times João Liberada had its premiere at the 2025 Berlinale.