Walter Salles' I'm Still Here (Ainda Estou Aqui), a 2024 Brazilian political biographical drama, powerfully depicts the devastating impact of Brazil's military dictatorship (1964-1985) on an ordinary family.
Adapted from Marcelo Rubens Paiva's 2015 memoir, the film follows Eunice Paiva (Fernanda Torres) as her family is shattered when her husband, Rubens (Selton Mello), a former congressman and vocal critic of the regime, is forcibly disappeared in 1971. The film's contemporary relevance is underscored by an unsuccessful boycott attempt by elements of the Brazilian far-right, reflecting ongoing political tensions and the struggle against historical revisionism. I'm Still Here distinguishes itself from other political dramas by focusing on this intimate, personal impact, portraying Eunice's unwavering determination to uncover the truth and protect her children. It offers a poignant portrait of love, loss, and resilience under oppression.
The film opens by immersing the viewer in the Paiva family's seemingly carefree life in Rio de Janeiro. Salles masterfully depicts scenes of domestic joy – beach outings, games, and intimate moments. However, this normalcy is subtly interwoven with the oppressive political climate; military helicopters and news reports of political arrests create an underlying tension, foreshadowing the impending tragedy. This juxtaposition of everyday life with the ever-present threat effectively establishes the film's central conflict.
The family's world is shattered when Rubens is abducted by government officials under the pretense of a "deposition." The suddenness of his disappearance leaves the family reeling in shock and uncertainty. Salles mirrors this experience, keeping the audience equally in the dark, forcing a shared sense of confusion, fear, and desperation. Eunice's initial attempts to find answers are met with denials and bureaucratic obstacles, highlighting the regime's cruelty and disregard for human rights. This struggle intensifies when Eunice and her daughter Eliana (Luiza Kosovski) are also detained and interrogated. While Eliana is quickly released, Eunice endures 12 days of imprisonment and psychological torture, emerging deeply scarred.
Fernanda Torres delivers a remarkable, nuanced performance as Eunice, embodying her strength, vulnerability, and unwavering determination. The audience witnesses her transformation from a loving wife and mother into a relentless advocate for justice, driven to uncover the truth and protect her children. Torres masterfully portrays Eunice's inner turmoil, capturing her resilience without resorting to melodrama. Her heartbreaking and inspiring performance showcases the indomitable spirit of a woman refusing to be broken by tragedy.
One of the film's most striking aspects is its use of time jumps to explore the long-lasting consequences of the dictatorship and the enduring pain of loss. After depicting the immediate aftermath of Rubens' disappearance, the narrative leaps forward 25 years to 1996, when Eunice finally receives his death certificate. This jump reveals Eunice's remarkable transformation: despite her trauma, she graduated from law school at 48 and became a leading expert on Indigenous Rights, counseling the Federal Government, the World Bank, and the United Nations. This achievement underscores her resilience and commitment to fighting for justice. However, these jumps, while effective in showing the long-term impact, may also gloss over some of the key struggles Eunice faced during her advocacy journey. A further jump to 2014 shows an elderly Eunice, now suffering from Alzheimer's, fleetingly remembering her past as a news report addresses her husband's case during the National Truth Commission. This poignant scene highlights the persistence of memory, even as it fades, and parallels Brazil's own struggle to confront its history and acknowledge the atrocities of the dictatorship. This intertwining of individual and collective memory adds another layer of complexity, suggesting their crucial role in healing and reconciliation.
The film's closing evokes a sense of both injustice and resilience. While Eunice and her family learn the truth about Rubens' fate, his murderers are never brought to justice. This unresolved ending reflects the reality for many families, highlighting the ongoing need for accountability and historical reckoning. Despite this lack of closure, the Paiva family's resilience and ability to find strength in adversity remain central.
Adrian Teijido's cinematography is both visually stunning and emotionally resonant, using 35mm film to create a sense of rawness and authenticity that immerses the viewer in the period and the Paiva family's world. The grainy texture evokes nostalgia and the passage of time, while incorporated Super 8 footage adds to the nostalgic feel and parallels the evolution of camera technology. As the narrative progresses, the cinematography becomes clearer, subtly reflecting both advancements in film technology and the passage of time itself. Salles' deliberate use of color further enhances the emotional impact; warm, golden hues bathe scenes of family life, while cool, desaturated tones dominate scenes depicting the dictatorship's oppression. This contrast underscores the themes of light and darkness, hope and despair. This careful color grading subtly reinforces the emotional weight of each scene. Beyond its technical aspects, the cinematography celebrates Brazilian cultural identity. Salles incorporates iconic imagery of Rio de Janeiro, showcasing its beauty even amidst a dark period, and the soundtrack features a diverse mix of Brazilian music, from classic samba to psychedelic rock, reflecting the cultural landscape of 1970s Brazil.
I'm Still Here evokes empathy for the Paiva family and will spark dialogue about historical memory and the importance of confronting past injustices. In a contemporary climate where authoritarianism and historical revisionism are on the rise, the film serves as a timely reminder of the fragility of democracy and the need to resist oppression. The film's exploration of family, loss, and resilience resonates universally, though its specific focus on one family might limit a broader engagement with the full scope of Brazil's dictatorship history. I'm Still Here is also a nuanced portrayal of female strength, via Fernanda Torres' performance.
I'm Still Here is a poignant and powerful film, transcending the typical political drama through its intimate portrayal of the Paiva family's struggle. Fernanda Torres delivers a tour-de-force performance, capturing Eunice's strength and vulnerability with remarkable depth. Director Walter Salles masterfully blends cinematic techniques, historical context, and emotional resonance to create a heartbreaking and inspiring film. The film's sensitive handling of a difficult subject and its timely message of resilience and the importance of preserving memory make it a remarkable achievement. I'm Still Here deserves to be seen and discussed, not only for its artistic merit but also for its urgent call to resist authoritarianism and find strength in adversity.