The opening shot of I’m Still Here shows Eunice Paiva (Fernanda Torres) suspended in the water of the South Atlantic Ocean, eyes toward the sky. The colors of the scene are vibrant and nostalgic, with a slightly yellowish tone due to the 35mm film utilized.
It transitions to a narrative of Paiva’s family playing on the beach, blissfully unaware of the forthcoming danger to their family. Along with their newfound dog, Pimpao, the Paiva children are relaxing on beach towels and constructing sand castles with one another. It’s the perfect portrayal of a carefree, serene Brazilian family, living life as it should be—with unbridled joy.
Hints of the political situation are thrown out in this sequence: whirring helicopter noise over the ocean and the faint rumble of military trucks on the road. Even so, the families on the beach leave it unnoticed, contributing to the first innocent half-hour of the film.
This seemingly untroubled 30 minutes is so beautifully acted and tenderly filmed that it feels as if it were a true recording of an actual family many years ago. It displays how, in the face of something dark, family can always be a shining light.
The familiarity and compassion I already felt for the Paivas in that short amount of time was partly due to the fact that it was a true re-telling of an actual family.
Walter Salles’ incredible Portuguese-language drama depicts the true story of the Paiva family living in 1971 Brazil, when a military dictatorship reached the crux of its power. Instead of taking a cold, insider look at the complications of fascism in a government setting, Salles chose to show the audience the effect of dictatorial politics on citizens. This is done through the first-person lens of an incredibly strong mother and wife, unabashedly encouraging the audience to empathize with Eunice Paiva.
The Paivas’ life is upended when Rubens Paiva (Selton Mello), the patriarch of the family, is taken in for military questioning. Suddenly, the government threat seems much more real and unsettling than before. Now, along with the rest of the country, Eunice Paiva is forced to fight for her family’s rights and stay unyielding in the face of tragedy.
Eunice Paiva’s quiet strength is explored deeply, with the incredible Fernanda Torres in her portrayal. I cannot sing more praise for the towering, masterful acting that Torres so expertly displays in this film. Her acting was genuinely the best I have seen from an actress in a leading role in a very long time. Her extremes are exhibited at every point, from being thrown in prison to having to protect her five children from the terrifying truth. Torres looks as if she feels every emotion Paiva did herself in 1971, with saddening eyes, smile lines, and a resolute facade whenever she is close to breaking down from the weight thrown upon her.
However, the most fearsome moments in I’m Still Here don’t surface in big action sequences or tragic malfunctions. Instead, they are shown in the silent, sinewed sweetness of family spending time together. Before and after Rubens’s abduction, the Paivas deal with change together by supporting one another and reaching for the feeble light.
My favorite scene from the entire movie is when the Paivas, sans Rubens, go to get ice cream at their local parlor in Rio de Janeiro. After sitting down with their bowls, the kids shift uncomfortably in their seats, lacking their usual bubbly energy and lightness. They’re unsure of how to continue without their father and part of their mother. To pass the time, they play the popular word game Hangman, but Eunice is silent. She slowly looks at each family and friend group inside the parlor, all of them chatting, laughing, and enjoying each other’s company. Her gaze is devastating—burdened with compartmentalized grief and shining with tears that she won’t let fall. A smile pulls at the corner of her mouth, but quickly disappears, displaying her contentment at seeing loved ones together, but jealous that she can’t have that anymore. It’s a searing portrayal of grief and how to have the strength to continue from Fernanda Torres.
This scene was accompanied by a saddening score, one that supported Torres’s outstanding performance. It’s a heartbreaking mix of happy and sad, sealing the limerence that so often comes with spending time with loved ones. It’s a simple, lilting melody of a few piano notes with an echo, but those notes had a massive impact. Altogether, the score of I’m Still Here matched the tone of each segment perfectly, complementing the energy produced from the screen.
In addition, the cinematography was stunning. The feature alternates between 35mm film and Super 8 film. Super 8 film cameras were a commodity in 1970s Brazil, so Salles and the cinematographer, Adrian Teijido, utilized that medium to display the point-of-view of eldest daughter Vera (Valentina Herszage). Through her film camera, she captures moments of peace and tranquility in the Paiva family with a nostalgic feel, in contrast to the normal and sometimes foreboding feel of the 35mm, depending on the scene. If a character was in a sinister situation, the camera work would be slightly shaky and the lighting dark, to capture the instability of the moment. If in a joyous scene, the camera would be stable and encapsulating the familiarity of home.
The excellence of I’m Still Here was recognized at this year’s Oscars, where Walter Salles won for Best International Feature, making it the first Academy Award win for a Brazilian film. Fernanda Torres was also nominated for Best Actress in a Leading Role due to her breathtaking performance.
I’m Still Here is a beautiful family drama that explores grief and the tenacity of a singularly spectacular woman. It gives the true story all its flowers, doing the Paivas justice in every aspect of their day-to-day lives and their most calamitous moments of despair. It’s a film about love, loss, and family, and I find myself thinking back to it multiple times a week. I couldn’t recommend it enough.
