Aquarius

The daily plunge, nautical navigation, oceanic unknowns obliviously obscuring reverberating traumas in convalescent translucent harmony, beneath the waves, submerged in seclusion, to the left, eastwards, straight ahead, salty ephemeral centripetal wake, free flowing ideas practically pirouetting with piquant poetic resolve, cardiovascular shade, illuminated marrow, infinite variety routinely sweetening the starchy and the stale insofar as histories heuristically heartache, good eye, optical infusions, testimonial treasures, immersed in ontological sheen, insatiably and abstemiously, current.

Subconscious stamina.

Steady as she goes.

Clara (Sonia Braga/Barbara Colen) is as certain as she is stubborn, and outrightly refuses to sell her cherished apartment.

The interested buyers own every other unit in the building and want to tear it down to construct another.

It's her home, her family's oasis, where she's lived for decades and where she raised her children, she can't even consider living anywhere else, and will not sit down to lucratively negotiate.

Her opposition responds with contempt.

Friends and family question her decision.

She notes their views.

Fully aware of what they cannot understand.

In her urban homestead, an artist tenaciously upholds her rights in Kleber Mendonça Filho's Aquarius, never yielding her firm convictions to the prospects of financial gain.

The film examines her plight from multiple angles while slowly descending from sanity to chaos.

It picks up after about an hour and a half when Clara's children confront her about her decision.

What follows is a stunning array of inflammatory sequences that end in a chilling vibrato.

Just make sure you hang around for it.

The first hour and a half, unfortunately, while patiently developing character and plot, is like sitting in the waiting room at a hospital for hours knowing that your minor injury could be healed in under 15 minutes.

I would have cut 45 minutes from this film.

Still, in its present form, the ending is incredible.