REVIEW: Revenge (Mari Penteado & Eduardo Campos, 2025)

Virginia, a transgender woman, walks down the street, visits homes, offers a warm smile, asks questions with genuine interest. To an outside observer, it might seem like just another ordinary day. But if we look closely, every gesture carries a quiet battle.

Revenge is a Brazilian short film directed by Mari Penteado and Eduardo Campos, in which we follow Virginia through a single day in her life. We see her at home, making coffee, tending to her plants. The camera remains still and unrushed, inviting us to simply be with her. Later, we watch her arrive at the health center where she works and interact with different people. There is affection. There is community.

But Revenge doesn’t follow a straight line. Amid its everyday rhythm, a scene interrupts the timeline: Virginia, alone in a dark room, delivers a monologue that recalls the witch trials of the Inquisition, when women accused of witchcraft were thrown into rivers. Then she declares: “I’m more than a witch. If you throw me in a river, I’ll neither sink nor float. I’ll drink all the water and walk away, wandering. Super hydrated.” That phrase invites us to ask: What does it mean to drink up all the water of a world that wants to destroy you? What does it mean to keep walking, despite everything?

There’s a quiet kind of resistance that runs through many scenes. As Virginia goes door to door conducting health surveys, the film allows us to imagine what she might be feeling. There is the uncertainty of who will open the door, the ever-present risk of rejection or aggression, the weight of being vulnerable in a society that is often violent toward trans identities. Yet Virginia doesn’t shut down. She doesn’t respond with fear. She opens up, connects, listens. Her work goes beyond collecting information. She brings warmth and attention to each interaction, leaving something meaningful behind.

In one of the final sequences, Virginia spends time with close friends. They share memories and hold on to an idea that runs through the entire short film:

“Our greatest revenge is to exist, to stay alive.”

The title of the film takes on its full meaning. Revenge, in this context, is not about retaliation. It is about persistence. It is about life. This short film does not idealize or victimize. It shows real life and it does so with a deeply human gaze.

This narrative work does not rely on graphic violence or dramatic twists. Its strength lies in the subtle: in sunlight, in growing plants, in a friend’s voice, in the unexpected joy of a birthday cake, in a cup of coffee, in the courage to live one more day. It is in those small gestures that resistance quietly endures.