With some slight surrealism, a certain indolent eroticism, and the brutal background of class struggle (as in the early Pasolini), 31 (the number of the tennis court from which the leading couple embarks on an adventure, with just a supermarket cart filled with tennis balls as their luggage) establishes some improbable connections on the way (between The Wizard of Oz and the end of the Portuguese dictatorship; between silent movies and the exuberant soundtracks made in India) to sketch, perhaps, a critique of another probable and fertile relation: the one between cinema and history.