THE STORY – Brazil, 1971: a country in the tightening grip of a military dictatorship. A mother is forced to reinvent herself when her family’s life is shattered by an act of arbitrary violence.
THE CAST – Fernanda Torres, Selton Mello & Fernanda Montenegro
THE TEAM – Walter Salles (Director), Murilo Hauser & Heitor Lorega (Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 135 Minutes
What do you do when your entire life changes in one day? When the safe and loving home you’ve built up comes crumbling down because a military dictatorship decides to take it all away? Eunice Paiva, the wife of former Brazilian Labour Party congressman Rubens Paiva, made it her life’s work to bring justice for her family and her husband, who was arrested and never seen or heard from again in 1971. The Paiva family’s story is brought to life in Walter Salles’ moving political drama “I’m Still Here” (“Ainda Estou Aqui”), which focuses on the emotional pain and trauma that the Brazilian Military Dictatorship inflicted on this family, let alone thousands of others. It is estimated that 434 people were either confirmed killed or went missing and that 20,000 people were tortured from 1964 to 1985. “I’m Still Here” is a story about strength and resilience – adapted from Marcelo Rubens Paiva’s book of the same name – anchored by a wonderful performance by Fernanda Torres, who helps invigorate the film when it’s most needed.
Set in Rio de Janeiro in the early 1970s, this beautiful, tropical, and mountainous city is the site of many cruel and ugly things hiding in plain sight. Relaxing beach days are interrupted by the sounds of military convoys and helicopters passing by. Citizens are regularly stopped and questioned on their late-night rides home, even if they’ve done nothing wrong. Sometimes, that’s the last time people ever see them.
But the Paiva family, consisting of father Rubens (Selton Mello), mother Eunice (Torres), and their five children, do what they can to keep life as normal as possible in their bright, beautiful beach home. The immense love shared between them all is felt in every corner of their house, even when safety is more challenging to find around them. In a house full of young children, Rubens and Eunice keep conversations about the scary times to a minimum, and they go so far as allowing their eldest daughter Veroca (Valentina Herszage) to go to London with family friends so she can experience life without fear.
But one January day changes their lives forever when a number of men show up at their house and ask Rubens to “make a deposition.” Unbeknownst to all of them, it’s the last time they’ll see him, as he was placed on a wanted list for associating with communists. The men’s presence looms large in the family home, especially as they draw all the curtains closed inside, and their faces become obstructed by the darkness. Yet that’s just the start of the chilling things this family will experience.
As Eunice and one of her daughters are also taken in for questioning, the comforting scenery of their cozy home is replaced with the dark, grimy, and frightening sights and sounds of a military interrogation center. The classy, put-together matriarch looks like a mess and as though she hasn’t slept in days – which isn’t hyperbole given that she’s questioned for days on end, not knowing if her husband or daughter are OK or what’s happening at home. The horrifying sounds of screaming and beatings in the prison send shivers up one’s spine, making the situation even more of a living nightmare than it already is.
But these injustices only fuel Eunice’s quest to bring her husband home – or, at the very least, prove that the government was responsible for his arrest and disappearance. In this film, Torres leads the charge emotionally, putting up a stoic front for her children and her closest friends, then letting the tears flow in solitary moments. It’s heartbreaking to see and even more shattering to know it’s all based on true events. Torres invigorates and makes these scenes because, without her, there’s not much action to see. Eunice has closed-door conversations with her lawyer and journalist friend, and she asks for a deposition from a woman who was arrested with Rubens so that she can have proof of his detainment, and that’s kind of it. Not to mention the fact that the film goes on endlessly by skipping ahead to the future twice. The first has a gratifying conclusion, but rather than ending the film there, Salles continues with another time jump, which is far less satisfying.
All in all, “I’m Still Here” is a moving drama shedding light on a horrible chapter in Brazil’s history. Whether or not one has connections to this awful time period, viewers will gravitate toward this brave family’s story and, in particular, feel Eunice’s strengths, all thanks to Torres’ work. This is just one story, and countless others like this exist throughout Brazil and other South American countries. May all families who have lost loved ones to unthinkable acts of cruelty find justice one day.
