SHORT BIO
Luís Araújo is a Portuguese actor, director, playwright and screenwriter. He has worked with filmmakers
such as Sofia Arriscado, M. F. Costa e Silva, Vasco Mendes, Emily Wardill, João Rosas, Tiago Guedes, Filipe
Melo and Filipa Amaro, as well as with performers including Pascal Lièvre, Rodolphe Cintorino and
Miguel Bonneville. He has also worked with theatre directors including Nuno Cardoso, António Durães,
Fernando Moreira, Ricardo Pais, João Pedro Vaz, Nuno M. Cardoso, Carlos Pimenta, Nuno Carinhas,
Gonçalo Amorim, Jacinto Lucas Pires, Tiago Guedes and Mickael Oliveira, among others. Since 2007, he
has written, created, directed or performed in his own projects, including YOU SHOW ME MY FACE, T3+1,
KATZELMACHER, PERSPICERE, CELESTE (winner of the FATAL 2015 award), CHARITY, UNDERGROUND,
FEMININE/FEMININE, LUNGS, JULIUS CAESAR, TAKE AWAY, RUINS, APNEA, and FAMILY HOME. In 2016,
he was selected to represent Portugal at a Creative Europe and UTE masterclass in Russia. In 2024, he
co-wrote the script for Tiago Guedes’s next feature film, AQUÍ, wrote and directed the theatre play THE
MISSING PIECE, and co-wrote the TV show RUÍDO (RTP1). This year, he wrote and directed his first short
film, SCHOOL_HOME.
Was there a particular event or time that you recognized that filmmaking is your way of telling stories?
It was a long process. I have been writing since childhood and started working as an actor at a very
young age. I was always fascinated by watching the director and cinematographer at work. I came to the
conclusion that, although I love it, serving other people’s stories as an actor was not enough for me. As a
screenwriter/director, I would have the opportunity to experiment more and work on more personal
themes and stories.
Do you think it is essential to go to a film institute in order to become a successful filmmaker?
I hope not. All of my training has been informal and pieced together from various sources: watching
movies, reading, watching technical videos online, observing professionals I admire at work and asking
questions. This approach has its advantages and disadvantages. On the one hand, the gaps probably
mean it takes me longer to figure things out. On the other hand, when you don’t know what’s possible or
‘right’, there are fewer constraints and you’re more willing to take risks.
Is it harder to get started or to keep going? What was the particular thing that you had to conquer to do either?
It depends on your aspirations and ambitions. I had to muster a lot of courage to take the first step.
Continuing seems easier now. I think I had to conquer my fear. But to do that, I had to imagine a story
that spoke louder than my fear.
What was the most important lesson you had to learn that has had a positive effect on your film? How did that lesson happen?
Throughout my professional life, I have been fortunate enough to work with a wide range of people and
observe how they communicate and manage others. I have witnessed both incredible and terrible
examples. I have learned from both. For better or worse, film-making is an absolutely collaborative art
form, and I have learned to listen to the suggestions and concerns of my team. This has been invaluable
lesson.
What were the production realities from casting through editing that you had to accommodate? How did you navigate those compromises or surprises and still end up with a cohesive film?
The reality of this production is simple: it had no budget. I invested some of my own money to provide
the team with food and drink and to ensure there was a basic level of art direction. The rest came in the
form of favors from friends and equipment loaned by generous people. This placed obvious restrictions
on the project’s formal ambition, but it also fostered a guerrilla spirit that suited our approach. I had to
abandon things and plans that I really wanted to execute because we lacked the time, equipment or
funds. As my team were friends with their own jobs and commitments, I often had to wait for them to be
available to move forward. I had to deal with these kinds of frustrations, not always in the best way.
However, I learned that giving up on some things can make room for others that are sometimes more
interesting, and that waiting and gaining distance from the material can also have positive effects on the
editing process. Apart from the opening sequence of the film, which I tried to shoot several times until I
was made to see that it was impossible without a dolly, I ended up with exactly the film I had imagined.
That is a privilege in any circumstance, but without a budget it is a dream come true. Then there were
issues that arose from my lack of experience. Naively, I thought I had written something simple that
would be easy for a novice to film. Working alongside my director of photography and assistant director,
I quickly realized the technical challenges of filming something that takes place almost in real time, as
well as the practical challenges of filming with children and animals.
What was the hardest artistic choice you made in the making of a film, at any stage in production?
Dropping the opening shot. It was a long take that mirrored the final shot of the film. We tried to shoot
it several times over two days. However, it was impossible to execute well with the equipment available.
After many attempts to make it work in editing, I had to make the tough decision to drop it.
You are a collaborator. How have you discovered members of your team and how do you keep the
relationship with them strong?
I feel incredibly lucky to be married to the most multi-talented person I know. She is capable of learning
and doing anything. That was really useful in this process. I also have friends in the film industry who are
extremely talented and creative. I met them on various projects throughout my life, and we built a
friendship and level of understanding that makes everything much easier. As for my actors, they were my
nephew and his best friend. That was my team. So there’s no need to “maintain” the relationships. We
were in each other’s daily lives before this, and we continue to be now.
What do audiences want? And is it the filmmaker’s role to worry about that?
There are some themes that I’m always interested in exploring and that I always come back to. They cut
across my work as an actor, creator and playwright. It’s these things, and all those I’ll discover along the
way, that I’ll continue to want to explore. I enjoy all genres. As an audience member, I’m eclectic, and I
think I’ll be the same as a director. After all, all filmmakers are also audience members. I think about the
stories I want to tell and the stories I would like to see. This doesn’t mean that I only want to work for
myself; it means that I’m not interested in pursuing themes, genres or styles simply because they are
popular at a given moment. Moments pass, but films, if we’re lucky, last forever.
What role have film festivals played in your life so far? Why are they necessary? How do you get the most out of them?
As a child of the ’90s and an audience member, festivals, video stores and television were my film school.
My hometown has an amazing international horror and fantasy film festival that introduced me to
countless filmmakers whose work I still follow today. As a filmmaker, this is my first experience. However,
I believe that they are absolutely essential for both the audience and the artist. They pave the way for
new approaches, offering a more diverse range of films and introducing different worlds and
perspectives that are often overlooked by the commercial circuit. They are even more important for
short films, which rarely have visibility beyond a very restricted circle. They offer a unique space for
discovery, sharing and collaborative thinking that must be preserved and cherished for both the public
and creators.
Do you believe that a filmmaker should be original and fresh or he/she should stick to classic but safe cinema style?
The process of making a film is so difficult and there are so many things that can go wrong at every stage
that I think filmmakers should make the film they really want to make. Regardless of what that means.
Otherwise, what’s the point of all that work? If not to recognize ourselves in it and put a piece of
ourselves out into the world, then what’s the point of months (sometimes years) of hard work and
anguish? That said, what I find fair, right and interesting may not be so for someone else. And there’s
nothing wrong with that. I don’t believe in dogmas.
