‘I ONLY REST IN THE STORM’ (NYFF 2025) Pedro Pinho tackles colonialism and identity in his epically long drama.

I ONLY REST IN THE STORM

Pedro Pinho‘s sophomore film, I ONLY REST IN THE STORM, premiered for NYFF audiences yesterday. The film follows Sergio, an environmental engineer who drives from his homeland, Portugal, to Guinea-Bissau, West Africa, to work on a recently halted project. Tasked with reporting whether building a road from the desert to the jungle would be profitable or even plausible, he tries his best to ingratiate himself with the locals, to mixed reactions. 

Portugal-born, Brazil-based filmmaker Pedro Pinho tackles racism in an unfiltered, confrontational manner. The dialogue is no-holds-bar and yet entirely calm in its honesty. Alongside Sergio, the audience is thrust into a lively group of queer friends, who argue among their own ranks about blackness and identity. It feels very intimate to witness. It’s a head-on white savior complex reckoning. The longer you watch and learn, white behavior feels very self-congratulatory, regardless of true intentions. 

Performances are spectacular. The immersive cinematography is a character all its own. The film often feels like a documentary with elders casually dropping facts about colonialism in social settings. I ONLY REST IN THE STORM captures you in its boldness, if you can hold on for the three and a half hour runtime. While it would undoubtedly benefit to cut that time in half, you cannot deny the meandering plot points. Each is strong, but as a whole, the film is a five-course gluttonous meal. 

Before we were married, my husband and I abandoned our lives in New York and moved to Hyderabad, India, so that he could work for a local microfinance institution. He and I, both white, served more as a spectacle, fully owning our privilege as we navigated endlessly intrusive questions and the knowledge of our ability to leave the city on our own accord. To be the minority was an eye-opening experience. I ONLY REST IN THE STORM plays for a predominantly white NYFF audience. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall after yesterday’s premiere. One can only imagine the justifications over cocktails.

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