Renato Magalhães Gouveia

São Paulo, Sociedade Anônima drops you right into the grinding gears of 1960s Brazil—a city bursting with factories, ambition, and that weird feeling of being both packed in and totally alone. Renato, our main guy, is kind of drifting. He’s got a steady job in the auto industry, a wife, a lover, and somewhere in there, a little bit of hope that he’s not just another cog in the machine. But man, the existential dread is real. Every day feels like a rerun. He clocks in, he clocks out, and in between there’s all this noise: bosses talking about productivity, friends trying to figure out their own messes, lovers sneaking around, and family who just want him to settle down. Renato’s not a hero or a rebel—he’s honestly just trying to keep his head above water in a city that keeps swallowing people whole. The film’s got this gray, industrial vibe. Machines whir, neon flickers, and everything feels so modern and yet kinda soulless. You can almost smell the oil and cigarette smoke. As Renato stumbles through his routine, he starts asking himself what it all means—if it means anything at all. There’s no big epiphany, no Hollywood ending. Just a sharp, honest look at alienation, routine, and the weird hope that maybe, just maybe, there’s something more out there. If you’ve ever felt stuck in a loop, this one hits home.