I'm Still Here (2024)

Films featuring dark political themes are an acquired taste for many moviegoers, but, when they tell personal stories within such a context, they generally become more accessible for audience members, even those who might not ordinarily gravitate to pictures in this genre. That’s a goal expertly accomplished in the latest from director Walter Salles. This superb fact-based offering tells the heart-wrenching story of former Brazilian politician Rubens Paiva (Selton Mello) who, in 1971, was seized by, and subsequently disappeared at the hands of, the military dictatorship that overran in the country at that time. Paiva, who was working as an engineer when captured, was taken because of his liberal-leaning politics, especially in his clandestine efforts to assist those opposed to the oppressive policies and practices of Brazil’s hard-line right-wing authorities. His seizure subsequently led to the detainment of his wife, Eunice (Fernanda Torres), and daughter, Eliana (Luiza Kosovski), in an effort to find out who their husband and father may have associated with, as well as what activities he may have engaged in. This harassment by officials, though, was not enough to stop the determination of Eunice and her family from trying to find out what happened to their loved one. In telling this story, the filmmaker not only relates a tale of high suspense, but also presents a compelling chronicle of a family committed to remaining hopeful and uncovering the truth, no matter how horrendous it might ultimately prove to be. In carrying out this mission, “I’m Still Here” successfully fires on all of its cinematic cylinders, perpetually engaging viewers in a gripping, emotionally charged odyssey, not unlike the films of famed filmmaker Costa-Gavras, most notably “Missing” (1982). In my view, this is the film most deserving of this year’s Oscars for best picture, lead actress (Torres) and international picture, hands down, not to mention a bushel of overlooked nominations in other categories. By all means, do not pass this one up.

The Paiva family leads an ordinary life until one night when a knock on their door changes things for ever. Rubens (Selton Mello) was formerly a Labour Party congressman in Brazil but now that the military have taken over, he is suspected of ties with the outlawed Communists. He is taken away and shortly after his wife Eunice (Fernanda Torres) and their elder daughter is also taken in for interrogation. For the next twenty minutes or so as she spends an intangible time in jail, we are exposed to some of the most effective cinematic menace I've ever felt. There is no graphic violence nor very little angry dialogue. Indeed, there isn't a great deal of actual physical threat at all. Her imprisonment and her deprivation of information is the stick they beat her with and it's profoundly traumatic. When she is released a week later, she returns home to find nobody has or will disclose any information about her missing husband. As time goes by she and their family have to come to terms with both the emotional and the practical implications as they try to look to the future, unsure of what's in their past. It's perhaps easy to forget amidst the militaristic history of 1970s South America that Brazil also had it's junta and it's fair share of bodies disappearing and that threat is never far away as the film proceeds to slowly follow her attempts to get to the truth, closure and to regain a positive sense of her own purpose. Torres is on great form here. She manages to imbue her characterisation with a fear but also with a sense of defiance. It's not reckless - she has a family to consider, but it's a determined effort to get to the facts, however unpleasant and however long it takes. The intensity of the main plot is diverted, occasionally, by the family and it's own aspirations and problems as they too must come to terms without a father whom they genuinely loved and by the denouement I felt quite drained by just the mere observation of their experiences. To live in a land where routine and permanent disappearances are every day occurrences is unrecognisable to most of us in the West. This reminds us to count our blessings.

<em>'I’m Still Here'</em> undoubtedly merits praise, it's an astutely made picture regarding a dark time in Brazilian history. The film's biggest plus, for me, is how warmly they portray the Paivas, it genuinely feels as if you are watching a real family; the actors play a big part in that, of course.

Fernanda Torres is the standout, rightly so given she leads much of what we see. An excellent performance! Selton Mello sticks out too, as do all of the relatively younger cast members; e.g. Luiza Kosovski and Valentina Herszage. There isn't anyone onscreen who puts a foot wrong.

I will say that I don't think this needed to be a 138 minute movie, there are a couple of moments where I felt like it was going to conclude and it didn't. This isn't a major detail though, because it is a film of sturdy quality and is most definitely worth viewing.

If anyone ever said that a child cannot fill the parent's shoes, Fernanda Torres's performance in "I'm Still Here" is a force to be reckoned with. It stands on par with her mother, Fernanda Montenegro's legendary reputation, the Grande Dame of Brazilian theater and film known for "Central Station" and "House of Sand." Remarkably, Montenegro appears in this film as the elderly, senile version of Eunice Paiva, having only recently retired at age 96. But this is Torres's film, and she commands every frame.

Torres balances the complicated vectors of Latin family strength, class values, societal mores, and maternal responsibilities—all while suffering with a "disappeared" husband and lover. She manages this with an aplomb that few of us could ever hope to muster in such circumstances. It's a performance of quiet devastation and iron resilience.

The soundtrack functions not as complement but as essential character, reinforcing music's power as resistance, expression, and historical preservation. During Brazil's 1970s dictatorship, lyrics required government approval before recording, making subtle and metaphorical language an art form to challenge censorship. "I'm Still Here" uses Brazilian Popular Music (MPB) classics to educate and enchant new generations while resonating with those already familiar. The opening song, "It's Necessary to Find a Way, My Friend" by Roberto Carlos and Erasmo Carlos, encapsulates both the story's mood and the era's coded political messages.

Walter Salles's approach is phenomenal. The pacing makes 137 minutes feel essential, every scene earned. Salles cut any scene showing Fernanda crying because Marcelo, the youngest son and author of the source book, said his mother didn't cry. That restraint honoring the real woman's strength rather than indulging in emotional manipulation is what makes this film extraordinary.

But let's talk about the disappeared. Brazil's military dictatorship, 1964-1988: an estimated 434 disappeared. Argentina's military dictatorship, 1976-1983: 30,000 disappeared. Chile under Augusto Pinochet, 1973-1990: 3,000 disappeared. Guatemala's civil war, 1960-1996: 45,000 disappeared. United States 2025-?: 5,784 so far.

"I'm Still Here" isn't just about Brazil's past. It's a warning about what happens when we stop counting, when we stop asking where they went. Eunice Paiva should be our guiding light.