“Heaven can wait,” claims an old sailor to a young man about to commit suicide; “let's get a few drinks first.” And so begins a nocturnal stumble through the streets, brothels, and boarding houses of Lisbon in one of Monteiro's most effortless, effervescent films, a tribute both to his native city and to seekers of small, everyday (and every-night) pleasures everywhere. Monteiro's stated goal was to capture Lisbon life within the film's admittedly miniscule plot; a bar-woman's arms as she pours a pint, revelers dancing at a rowdy street festival, the sounds of neighbors arguing, a long walk down a midnight street, a close-up of lovers' faces, or a run through a field of sunflowers (in one of only two daytime shots)-such are the true fascinations of The Last Dive. As always, Monteiro remains a creature of the night, against organized society, social codes, and established order, with a desire “to build my paradise with a band of thieves” the primal force.