‘18 Holes To Paradise’ review: Savage Portuguese satire sees a home threatened by fire and feud

Dir: João Nuno Pinto. Portugal, Italy, Argentina. 2025. 107mins

This fierce satire is set in the drought-stricken region of Alentejo in southern Portugal, where an extended family gathers in the sprawling quinta that was owned by their late parents. There’s talk of selling the property; tourism is booming and developers are circling. As the three adult children bicker about their future plans, a raging wildfire draws ever closer. 

The terrible heat seeps into the changing moods of the film

Director João Nuno Pinto tells the story from the perspectives of three characters with a connection to the property. Elegantly structured and increasingly savage, the film makes an impassioned case for responsible stewardship of the land in the face of development which, like the fire, destroys everything it touches and places intolerable stresses on both ecosystem and community.

This is the third feature from Pinto, following his 2010 debut América and 2020 follow-up Mosquito, the latter of which opened Rotterdam and won the Critics’ Award for Best International Film at São Paulo. Following its world premiere in the main competition at Tallinn, 18 Holes To Paradise will screen in competition at Mar Del Plata. Further festival interest seems likely and, with sufficient critical support, the picture could find a home with arthouse distributors or streaming platforms.

The three central characters, from whose points of view each chapter is told, are all women. The first, Francisca (Margarida Marinho), all boho, flowing robes and artisan jewellery, is one of the three adult daughters of the house. She, like her two siblings, spent much of her childhood there. But only she retains a strong emotional connection with the place, arguing for keeping it in the family rather than cashing in and selling to someone who will bulldoze the olive groves and install an 18-hole golf course.

The second chapter focuses on her sister, Catarina (Beatriz Batarda), a chic author with a wealthy husband who has clearly lost all interest in her. Catarina sees only the ravages of time. Her eye is drawn to the cracked pool tiles and the damaged bone handle of the cutlery at lunch; she jogs doggedly in the sweltering heat in the hope of keeping her figure. Catarina, like her brother Lourenço (Jorge Andrade) is in favour of selling. But as the heat builds, the danger mounts and the water supply fails, Catarina starts to lose her grip on reality.

Finally, there’s Susana (Rita Cabaço), the daughter of the family’s housekeeper who now has a life in Lisbon with a young daughter and a job as a nurse. But her mother is drifting into dementia and, if the sale goes through, will be homeless. Susana is determined to force the owners to do the right thing by her parents. But this is a conversation that nobody seems willing to have.

There are thematic parallels here with Lucrecia Martel’s study of decaying privilege, La Cienaga, as well as with Christian Petzold’s Afire. Accompanied by a relentless, percussive score from Ginevra Nervi, the terrible heat seeps into the changing moods of the film. At times, the characters seem languid and semi-comatose; at others, nerves snap like the crackling flames in the undergrowth.

As the smoke turns the light a hellish red and ash flakes float into the pool, the picture takes on an almost hallucinatory quality. An arresting final sequence, shown in ultra slow motion (the better to capture the panic and terror) strips back any remaining layers of artifice and reveals the characters for who they truly are.