‘I’m Still Here’ Review: Walter Salles’ Profoundly Moving Sense-Memory Portrait of a Family — and a Nation — Ruptured

As a seasoned movie buff with a penchant for historical dramas and a soft spot for stories of resilience, “I’m Still Here” left me utterly captivated. Having spent countless hours immersed in the cinematic landscapes of Brazil, this film resonated deeply with my heart and mind. The way Walter Salles weaves the tale of the Paiva family is nothing short of masterful – a poignant portrayal of love, loss, and the indomitable spirit of the human soul.


Walter Salles’ emotionally resonant film “I’m Still Here” marks his return to Brazil and the cinematic style that earned him an Oscar nomination for “Central Station.” The narrative unfolds at a beach, a quintessential Rio de Janeiro setting. A vagrant dog disrupts a game of beach volleyball. Teenagers apply Coca-Cola as sunscreen, while youngsters play soccer and flirtatious teens share celebrity gossip and crush confessions. Upon the shimmering water, Eunice Paiva (an impressive portrayal by Fernanda Torres, a regular in Salles’ films) lounges on her back, shielding her eyes from the sun. The sky is cloudless. Yet, overhead hovers a helicopter.

It’s Christmas season in 1970, and Brazil has been under military rule for six years, with another fifteen years to go. However, on a day like this, among families such as the Paivas – Eunice, her engineer husband Rubens (Selton Mello), their five energetic children who love volleyball, tanning at the beach, and adopting dogs, and their live-in housekeeper Zeze (Pri Helena) – the military rule is hardly noticeable. It’s merely audible in distant radio reports of kidnapped diplomats and visible in occasional army convoys that pass by the road separating their spacious, breezy home from the beach.

“This tale, ‘I’m Still Here’, is not just about this family and the horrific act of state-sanctioned violence they suffered, but also about a cherished house – one where the narrator, who has been friends with the real Paiva family since the 1960s and spent much of his youth there, fondly remembers. Initially, it was a bustling hub filled with guests, conversations on politics, music, and art, and friendly games of foosball. However, over time, it became eerily quiet and desolate as friends disappeared, fear crept in, and eventually, the family itself vanished. The moment Eunice asked Zeze for the key to lock the driveway gate felt like the closing of an era. After authorities in black leather jackets took Rubens away for questioning and he never returned, and after she had spent several days in a dirty detention cell being questioned about resistance activities she knew nothing about, Eunice requested the key to secure the driveway – a simple act that symbolized the end of an epoch.”

The film by Salles, richly immersed in its craft, subtly compares the luxurious yet oppressive ambiance of this family’s home to the struggles of modern-day Brazil. Adrian Teijido’s exquisite cinematography, with its aged and soft hues, blended with home videos taken by Veroca (Valnetina Herszage), the music-loving daughter, gives the movie a nostalgic, recalled feeling. The soundtrack, featuring Gilberto Gil’s sambas, Caetano Veloso hits, and Warren Ellis’ melodious piano and strings score, adds a melancholic undertone to even the most joyful family moments. This sadness isn’t due to any impending disaster, but rather because these scenes seem like cherished memories, and all memories, no matter how happy, hold an inherent tinge of sorrow.

Instead of solely emphasizing Rubens’ passing, the movie and book (by Rubens’ son Marcelo) primarily highlight resilience, particularly demonstrated by Eunice, brilliantly portrayed by Torres. Even in the most challenging situations, such as her husband’s abduction and her own harrowing experience, Eunice shows remarkable resourcefulness in raising her children and starting over while grappling with immense grief and the authorities’ cruel refusal to acknowledge her husband’s fate. This tale of survival and quiet bravery becomes the film’s structural foundation.

The book “I’m Still Here,” although traditional in structure, is surprisingly bold in its empathy. It could be argued that additional sections set in 1996 and 2014, which slightly modify the emotional flow, are unnecessary. However, these characters feel so real to us that it’s hard to let them go. Eunice’s long struggle for official recognition of her husband’s forced disappearance spanned many years, and the outcome was finally achieved. Moreover, the 2014 epilogue offers a rare glimpse of the actress who starred in “Central Station,” Fernanda Montenegro, playing the older Eunice in a brief role.

Moreover, the film concludes with Eunice’s family, now expanded even further, reuniting one more time in a spacious garden for a joyful group photo, transforming it into a warning story. This message is directed at those who wish to reintroduce repression and govern through fear in Brazil and other places. The spirit of the nation you aim to suppress will outlive you. Those you try to oppress will be remembered as scorned and discarded by history, while those who resist will be immortalized in songs and stories. Their lives will inspire music and art, and films like “I’m Still Here” will be created to honor them.

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2024-09-01 20:16