Somewhere hidden in a small Portuguese village stands a forgotten theatre, its name fading quietly above the door, worn by time and silence. The wooden entrance remains shut, the curtains inside hang still, and the upper balcony slowly sinks into decay.

Little is known about the theatre’s history. There are no posters, no records of past performances. Yet its architecture – with a horseshoe-shaped balcony and modest box seats – reveals that this was once a place where the village gathered, where people laughed, applauded, and shed tears together.