With Searing Political Drama ‘I’m Still Here,’ Walter Salles Delivers an Urgent Warning: ‘A Country Without Memory Is a Country Without a Future’

As a seasoned film critic with roots deeply embedded in the rich and vibrant soil of Brazilian cinema, I have had the distinct pleasure of witnessing the evolution of this art form within my very own homeland. Yet, there are few films that have left such an indelible mark on me as Walter Salles‘ latest masterpiece, “I’m Still Here.

A memory from the Paiva family’s abode in Rio de Janeiro, just steps away from the beach, has forever remained etched in my mind, Walter Salles. The place was open and inviting, with doors and gates that never closed, windows that welcomed sunlight and sea breezes. It buzzed with music, dancing, gatherings, discussions, and innovative thoughts. However, this lively atmosphere was shattered in 1971 when Rubens Paiva, a former congressman-turned-engineer, was seized by the authorities – whether police or military wasn’t immediately clear – for interrogation, torment, and ultimately, his tragic death. This tragic event left Eunice, his wife, and their five children with the daunting task of piecing together the fragments and seeking answers in a country that was seven years into a military regime that would continue for another seven.

According to Salles, who frequently visited as a youngster, the house held a vibrant energy that everyone found captivating. One fateful day, upon our return, we discovered it had been shuttered with police stationed outside. The surprise was palpable.

Salles, a renowned Brazilian filmmaker, has spent a significant portion of his career portraying his nation’s gradual, sometimes languid, journey towards democracy through films such as “Central Station.” However, “I’m Still Here,” which delves into the challenging times in the lives of the Paiva family, may be his most intimate work yet, given his close ties with these individuals during his upbringing. This film, a testament to his skill, also serves as a poignant warning about the threats posed by authoritarianism. The movie received acclaim at the Venice Film Festival, with critics praising Fernanda Torres’ portrayal of Eunice as potentially worthy of an Oscar. It will be screened at this year’s Toronto Film Festival, followed by a domestic release by Sony Pictures Classics in the fall.

As a movie critic, I found myself drawn into the subtlety of Fernando Meirelles’s masterpiece, where the volatile theme was treated with a restrained hand. Unlike some directors who might have opted for dramatic close-ups or intense camera movements to escalate the tension, Meirelles chose a more authentic path. In his own words, “I wasn’t aiming to magnify emotions; I wanted to be genuine.

He carefully explores the mystery of Rubens’ disappearance, tagging along with his parents and siblings during their leisurely summer days at the beach, afternoons at the ice cream parlor, and social events where Eunice’s renowned soufflés were a must. “It’s crucial to let the life unfold naturally,” Salles explains. “Initially, I want to immerse you in the sensory experience of being part of a family.

The goal was to make it clear how much joy was snuffed out when Rubens was “disappeared.” To help the actors get into the proper emotional state, he shot the picture chronologically. It was a logistical nightmare for a movie shot on location, since shifts in weather or availability often necessitate filming things out of sequence. “It allowed me to get into my character’s skin,” says Torres. “You had this sunny part of the movie with children and parties and friends. Then it’s all taken away and you are filled with this sense of loss. I felt like I, Fernanda, had experienced that.”

Salles advised Torres to downplay Eunice’s sorrow and worry, emphasizing that her character must maintain composure for the sake of her little ones. “She stays quiet,” Torres notes. “She can’t just freak out. She doesn’t have the luxury of self-pity. Yet, there’s a deep significance in her behavior. When something distressing occurred to her, she remained composed. She smiled. She didn’t betray her pain.

Initially, the Paivas were moderately well-off at the start of the movie. However, Rubens’ disappearance caused them significant financial instability. Since Brazilian officials took decades to issue a death certificate for Rubens, Eunice was unable to access her family’s funds and was compelled to sell all their possessions and begin anew. Ultimately, she returned to education and specialized in human rights law.

“Her journey blended with the journey of Brazil as it sought to redefine itself,” Salles says.

The trip persisted throughout the turbulent seven-year span as Salles worked diligently on the script and subsequently assembled the movie. This phase coincided with Jair Bolsonaro, a potential right-wing authoritarian, securing the presidency, but being ousted four years later in a close election against Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva. Scenes strikingly similar to the January 6 riots unfolded as Bolsonaro’s supporters invaded Brazilian administrative buildings, whipped up by his allegations of electoral fraud.

As I embarked on this cinematic journey, I initially believed we were simply revisiting an old tale, but as the story unfolded, it became evident that it was just as much a mirror reflecting our current times. It’s crucial to remember the events of the past. Film, in its potent form, can serve as a tool to challenge and resist those powerful forces – helping us steer clear of forgetfulness. A nation devoid of memory is a nation bereft of hope for the future. – Your humble movie critic.

2024-09-07 21:17

With Searing Political Drama ‘I’m Still Here,’ Walter Salles Delivers an Urgent Warning: ‘A Country Without Memory Is a Country Without a Future’

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