Loves of ravishment are a whirlwind. They do not ask for permission, show no restraint, and measure no consequences.
They are the ones that leave us suspended between ultimate fulfillment and imminent destruction. In these loves, we find beauty and fragility in equal measure, as if each moment were a spark on the verge of extinguishing. And yet, it is precisely in this fragile balance that the most powerful stories reside – and, in the case of cinema, the most unforgettable ones.

We begin with Jude (1996), directed by Michael Winterbottom, an adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s 1895 novel Jude the Obscure. This drama exudes the intensity of passions that defy social conventions. In late 19th-century England, Jude faces the prejudices of Victorian society while his relationship with Sue, his cousin, explores the weight of freedom and desire in a rigid and unforgiving world. It is a story of passion that both unites and destroys, showing that love can sometimes be both salvation and condemnation.

Then, The English Patient (1996), directed by Anthony Minghella and based on Michael Ondaatje’s 1992 novel of the same name, offers a narrative that traverses time and geography, diving into a forbidden and profoundly ravishing romance. The film weaves together past and present, revealing a love affair that challenges the boundaries of ethics and loyalty. Set against the backdrop of World War II, love here emerges as something that consumes and transforms, both body and soul – a flame that burns even in the darkest moments.

What do these two films have in common? Impossibility. Love, in these stories, is not a serene choice; it is a force that overtakes, shapes lives and destinies, even when ruin seems inevitable. Both films show us that ravishing love knows no boundaries and that, sometimes, it is more about feeling alive than about achieving happiness.

In this cycle, we want to hear what cinema has to say about loves that defy everything and everyone. Does love always need to be understood to be lived? Or, as Jude and The English Patient demonstrate, is there something profoundly human in loving, even when the cost is painfully high? Perhaps the answer lies less in resolution and more in the journey – in the intensity of a gaze, in the silence between two people, in the memory that endures even as the world insists on moving forward.

What remains of these loves, then? The lesson that to love is always an act of courage, even if it is also a leap into the unknown. Because, in the end, it is always cinema that rescues us, ravishing us with its stories. After all, even when love slips away, it leaves a mark – and sometimes, that mark is all we need to keep going.

(Curatorship of Alexandre Braga)