I'm Still Here Review

Director Walter Salles is no stranger to exploring social issues. Not only has he helmed pictures like Central Station and The Motorcycle Diaries, but he was an executive producer on the harrowing crime epic City of God. I’m Still Here is proof that Salles isn’t done tackling social injustice. A blistering film on resilience in the face of oppression, it juggles tragedy and power dexterously.

Based on real people and events, the Paiva family return to live in Rio De Janeiro in 1970. The patriarch, Rubens (Selton Mello), is a former congressman who opposed the rise of the military dictatorship that now controls Brazil. After half a decade in self-exile, Rubens resumes civil work while his wife Eunice (Fernanda Torres) looks after their five children.

However, following the actions of far-left resistance groups, Brazil enters a period of political instability. A military raid occurs on the Paiva household, and Rubens is taken, disappearing off the face of the earth. Armed with only the of her friends and family, Eunice makes it her mission to find out what happened to her husband.

Much of the film’s resonance comes from its sharp contrasts in tone and style. The Paiva family live idyllically, their big house often full of laughter, situated within walking distance of the beach. There may be disagreements at times, but the film’s early scenes of domesticity brim with warmness and affection – the feelings of connection perhaps best captured by a scene in which Rubens helps his youngest daughter bury a baby tooth, a gesture which Eunice capitalises on in a beautiful way in the third act. The inclusion of home movie footage, filmed by the family camcorder, is a delicate touch that only adds to the intimacy these scenes evoke.

However, like memories, this happiness is fleeting as the conflict literally comes knocking on the family door. The once sunny colour palette suddenly becomes muted. The settings become colder and the arguments less jovial and more vitriolic, born from desperation and worry over what has become of Rubens. An intense interrogation scene best encapsulates the mood shift, portraying with full viscerally the extent of political oppression going on, even as families gather and play on the beach nearby.

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This horrifying collision of the public and private spheres is where the film’s dramatic heft is at its strongest, the Paiva family rallying around each other yet within inches of falling apart over the lack of answers. In a way, it’s a disquieting portrayal of powerlessness as Eunice exploits whatever connections she has to try and locate Rubens’ whereabouts to little avail, the Brazilian dictatorship too strong to crack. Tensions between characters frequently threaten to reach boiling points, a constant feeling of being watched generated through the use of lingering long shots and military spies observing the family home. Yet, even under such worry and uncertainty, the film celebrates perseverance, hope and the joys that can somehow be found in between – a sentiment Eunice embodies when, during a photo op to raise awareness, she insists her family smiles despite the seriousness of their predicament.

Fernanda Torres’ performance is the sublime glue that holds it all together. Despite her character’s helplessness in the search for the truth, Torres commands a stubborn sense of strength whether she’s staring down an interrogator or keeping her children in order. Only in the scenes where Eunice is alone does Torres allow the mask to slip and reveal the crushing weight of Eunice’s trauma. It’s a rich, layered performance that combines hardiness and anxiety in the creation of a powerhouse character based on a fascinating real woman. An already renowned actor in her native Brazil, it’ll be interesting to see what international doors this remarkable performance opens for Torres.

I’m Still Here does threaten to run out of steam in places, its 135-minute length feeling a shade too long. The inclusion of time skips, while necessary for the story being told, adds to this feeling of bloatedness, particularly the flash to 2014. However, these are small fish compared to the titanic empathy at the film’s core, its iration for its lionhearted characters as all-encoming as its scorn for political tyranny, a particularly timely sentiment in a world where far-right oppression is once again on the rise. Gripping, nail-biting and at times heartbreaking, yet always in awe of the strength and tenacity of the family unit, I’m Still Here reflects its title – it ensures its presence is heard in no uncertain .