Posted in English

Puntuguese

I’m sure you’ve been enjoying the recent news out of the USA. Me too. And I also really enjoyed the fact that I was actually able to understand a portuguese pun

Hey Trump, when you leave the white house, ask Melania to help “Kamala”.

The joke is that Kamala sounds like “Com a mala” (“with your suitcase”) although when I showed m’wife she pointed out it could equally well be “queimá-la” (“burn it”) but I guess that’s not what the author was going for

Posted in English, Portuguese

Raul With It

One of the chapters in Reaccionário Com Dois Cês is an obituary for Raul Solnado, who I’d never heard of. He died in 2009 and was recognised as one of the greats of portuguese comedy. Here he is in front of an audience in the sixties or seventies, telling a rambling story of the war of 1908. Top quality R-rolling.

Posted in English, Portuguese

Two Countries Separated By A Common Language

I was sent this video by my Brazilian language partner and its a pretty good illustration of the language barrier between the two sides of the atlantic. Note that the Portuguese guy (Caesar Mourão, one of the comedians on the line-up of the comedy festival I mentioned yesterday) understands the tourists because the Portuguese are so used to listening to Brazilian “Novelas” but they have no idea what he’s on about.

Posted in English

Chuckles Call to Chuckles Everywhere

I’ve found myself getting a bit more feminist lately. I have tended to be a bit dismissive of some claims of 21st-century feminism, to the point of wondering whether the word had outlived its usefulness, but have been energised lately by… well, it’s a long story. Suffice to say that having a daughter makes you want to punch more misogynists in the balls. I am all about the punching. I’m a regular Jean-Claude Van Dad.

Anyway, representation in comedy is not one of my main avenues of interest, but I was struck by this tweet earlier today, by Safaa Dib, who I know nothing about but seems to be a publisher and a candidate in a sort of left-green party called Partido Livre. She posted about the Festival de Humor, FamousFest 18. You can see why she was annoyed from the picture below. Literally not one single woman in the line-up. I know 6 of the names and 2 of those are not even comedians. Miquel Esteves Cardoso is a columnist and writer, and Filipe Melo is a producer and a graphic novelist. She doesn’t seem wildly impressed with some of the others either, judging by the comments.

If you click through to the thread, Guilherme Duarte, a comedian who uses the name Por Falar Noutra Coisa chips in and says a couple of women were invited but declined. Hm… well, fair enough up to a point… but then goes on to say (and this is less fair enough) that he didn’t want to have a quota system at the expense of quality (gasp… but wait, it gets worse…) that work was needed in the background to encourage women to try and be funny instead of making makeup tutorials. He salvages this mess of a tweet to some extent but not much. I was left with the impression that the scene is even more of a boy’s club than here.

Update 25/9/18 https://capitalmag.pt/2018/09/24/festival-menina-nao-bebe-whisky/

Posted in Portuguese

1986 A Série – Opinião

34983707_1693274110769703_6285563171725901824_n(1)Uma das contas portuguesas que eu sigo no Instagram é a do Nuno Markl. Durante o ano passado começou a deixar indicações dum novo projecto – uma série de comédia que estava a escrever sobre as eleições de 1986 entre o socialista Mário Soares e o conservador Diogo Freitas do Amaral. O Markl é conhecido (entre outras coisas) pela sua nostalgia dos anos oitenta e o seu amor pela cultura daquela época. Fiz 17 anos em 1986 e por isso fiquei muito entusiasmado para ver o resultado. Não temos canais portugueses aqui em casa – ou seja, se existem, não faço ideia de como encontrá-los, porque há demasiados botões no comando. Mas não me importo porque o site da RTP está disponível para os coitados dos cidadãos do Brexitland, o site deixá-nos ver os programas culturais dos nossos amigos e vizinhos.

Cá para mim, como estrangeiro, o estilo da série parece uma mistura de dois estilos: o da série americana de hoje, e o duma comédia daquela época. Há 13 episódios, cada um entre 40 e 45 minutos. A cinematografia é bastante moderna mas às vezes os actores utilizaram duplos olhares e expressões faciais muito exageradas, como os actores de comédias tradicionais. A trama trata-se dum grupo de adolescentes. O primeiro é o Tiago, fã dos Smiths (a minha banda preferida!), e filho dum comunista que deve “engolir o sapo de Soares”. Ele apaixona-se por uma “betinha”, cujo pai é apoiante do “sacana de facho”. Os dois e os amigos deles enfrentam-se os desafios da vida escolar.

29094830_206249366629505_2264383208869068800_nHavia muitos aspectos engraçados, tal como o sarcasmo da rapariga gótica e a raiva exagerada do pai do Tiago. Também gostei da nostalgia da cultura compartilhada pelos dois países – música, filmes, computadores, roupas e livros. Às vezes tornou-se ligeiramente auto-indulgente, mas gostei apesar disso.

Claro não sou especialista em televisão portuguesa, e custa-me muito entender os sotaques e os ritmos da fala dos actores, portanto é provável que a minha opinião não conte para nada, mas se quiseres saber o que é que pensei, lá está!

Spoiler: Soares venceu. Então não precisas de ver

Posted in English, Portuguese

Her Name Was Lula, She Was a Shoegirl

Another joke from the Caderno that I didn’t get at the time but have since had explained to me

Estão um pargo e uma lula a conduzir e o pargo ultrapassa a lula de maneira brusca. Vira-se a lula:
-Tás pargo, pá?
-Calula

A Lula is a squid (I knew that) and a pargo (well, o pargo, but you know what I mean) is a red snapper (I didn’t know that but guessed it some kind of marine creature). And the unpunned version of the dialogue would be

squidward-‘Tás parvo, pá?

-Caluda!

or

“Are you stupid, mate?”

“Shut it!”

Thanks to Fernanda for deciphering this fishy confusion for me