Seriado Capitu - Luis Fernado - De Carvalho
The role of Capitu is notoriously difficult. She is the ultimate literary enigma: a calculating adultress or an innocent victim of a paranoid husband? Giovanna Antonelli delivers a career-defining performance. She captures the "gypsy eyes" described by Machado—eyes that are at once mesmerizing and unreadable.
Antonelli plays Capitu with a sharp intelligence that justifies Bento’s insecurity while never confirming his accusations. She is not a passive victim; she is a woman fighting for her survival within the constraints of 19th-century patriarchy. The chemistry between Gueiros (young Bentinho) and Antonelli is electric, making the eventual disintegration of their marriage feel like a genuine tragedy.
Capitu (2008) é um produto de seu tempo, mas é, sobretudo, um trabalho atemporal de um dos maiores diretores vivos do Brasil. Ela nos lembra que a literatura na tela pequena não precisa ser ilustrativa; ela pode ser inventiva, perturbadora e visualmente desafiadora. Seriado Capitu - Luis Fernado de Carvalho
Ao final dos capítulos, ficamos nós, o público, na mesma posição dos leitores de Machado: presos naquela "dúvida danada". Mas agora, carregamos conosco as cores, as formas e a genialidade plástica de Luiz Fernando de Carvalho. Uma obra-prima da teledramaturgia que merece ser celebrada.
Você lembra dessa minissérie? Qual a sua opinião: Capitu traiu ou Bentinho era louco? Deixe seu comentário! The role of Capitu is notoriously difficult
In the first group of drawings, Carvalho takes the perspective of the jealous husband. Bentinho is often depicted as a shadow—a faceless silhouette observing Capitu from a doorway or through a window.
"Seriado Capitu" is not a simple illustration of the book Dom Casmurro. It is a deconstruction of the novel’s central conflict: Did Capitu cheat on Bento Santiago (Dom Casmurro) with Escobar, or was it all a product of jealous paranoia? Você lembra dessa minissérie
Luis Fernando de Carvalho approaches this question by removing the text and leaving only the face—specifically, the eyes.
The series consists of multiple portraits, sketches, and studies of the same woman, yet each one feels different. In some frames, Capitu looks directly at the viewer with a defiant, almost mocking honesty. In others, she looks away, shrouded in shadow, her lips sealed in a silent secret. Carvalho masterfully uses the ambiguity of the literary source to create a visual paradox: the viewer is placed in the role of Bento, trying to read guilt or innocence into a static expression.