An 85-year-old man wistfully recalls the sexual escapades of his youth; two middle-aged girlfriends sunning themselves on the beach swoon over a verse depicting sexual urges too urgent to be put on hold, prompting one of them to relate a passionate episode on a rock with a fisherman; an 81-year-old former Olympic swimmer reads a poem about making love under the shower that reflects her feelings about water.
While most of the interviewees are transported back to their sexual heydays with pleasure, some surrender to melancholy regrets about missed experiences, while others become impromptu theorists, like two passengers on a tram who debate Drummond’s view of women. The people approached are remarkable for their unselfconsciousness, at the same time flaunting a spontaneous theatricality that is highly appealing.
Honigmann avoids talking to the cognoscenti about Drummond’s work, and limits direct recollections of the writer to one or two acquaintances, such as his hat maker, who applauds his sense of style. Drummond himself is represented only vocally, in a scratched recording he made of his poems at age 72. Jose Guerra’s camera seeks out the pervasive sensuality on the streets and beaches of Rio de Janeiro, homing in on hunks working out, dancers, surfers, bikini-clad nymphs and couples making out on the sand.