As I delved into Marcelo Rubens Paiva’s heart-wrenching account and Walter Salles‘ cinematic adaptation of “I’m Still Here,” I was struck by the indomitable spirit of Eunice, a woman whose life story echoed with resilience and fortitude. Her journey, filled with pain, fear, and isolation, mirrors the tumultuous era of Brazil’s military dictatorship. Yet, amidst the despair, Eunice found hope, strength, and the will to rebuild her family and honor her husband’s legacy.
Walter Salles’ acclaimed 1998 film, “Central Station,” garnered an Oscar nomination for the remarkable Fernanda Montenegro. In her nineties, this actress reappears at the end of Salles’ first Brazilian film in 16 years, the heart-wrenching “I’m Still Here” (or “Ainda Estou Aqui”), where she communicates solely through her powerful eyes. The emotional bond is intensified as she embodies an aged, frail version of the main character – a role skillfully portrayed by Fernanda Torres, Montenegro’s daughter, with great poise and dignity amidst emotional turmoil.
Numerous powerful films have been created about the 21-year period of military rule in Brazil, from 1964 to 1985, much like those made about repressive regimes in nearby South American countries such as Chile, Argentina, and Uruguay. The atrocities of widespread torture, murder, and forced disappearances have left deep emotional scars on these nations, and cinema has frequently become a means for preserving shared memories.
The movie “I’m Still Here” doesn’t usually show the struggle against tyranny by a military regime in such a close, personal way as it does. This intimacy is heightened by indications throughout the film that director Salles deeply cares about the true story of the Paiva family, whose patriarch Rubens (portrayed by Selton Mello), a former congressman, was allegedly taken from his home in Rio de Janeiro in 1971 for questioning and has not been seen or heard from since.
Salles first came across this family during the late 1960s, and a substantial chunk of his youth was spent under their roof – a period he acknowledges as instrumental in shaping both his cultural and political perspectives. This fact is reflected in the vibrant early scenes, where the five Paiva siblings are often seen rushing between the house and the beach. Additionally, it appears that an assortment of friends of various ages frequented this household for social gatherings, meals, music, and stimulating discussions.
In this family, there are precious, fleeting instances such as two sisters joyfully dancing and harmonizing to the dreamy love song “Je t’aime … moi non plus,” by Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin, not comprehending the lyrics. The way one of the youngest members, Marcelo (Guilherme Silveira), charms his way into adopting a stray dog they found on the beach showcases the household’s warmth, spontaneity, and affectionate scrappiness. The child actors portraying these characters are all effortlessly natural and endearing.
The initial disruption of the family’s intimate environment occurs when the eldest daughter Vera (Valentina Herszage) is out with friends, and their vehicle is stopped at a roadblock in a tunnel. This situation, though seemingly ordinary moments ago with them enjoying a joint and laughter, suddenly turns tense as they are forced at gunpoint to stand against a wall. Military officers interrogate them, scrutinizing their faces for any semblance of the “terrorist suspects” they are seeking to capture.
A quiet phone call or secret chat with a friend hints at Rubens being involved in something confidential. However, the script penned by Murilo Hauser and Heitor Lorega, adapted from Marcelo Rubens Paiva’s book, leaves the specifics until after Rubens is arrested. This leaves us in the same position as his family, puzzled about what actions could have landed their father in such a precarious situation with the regime.
As a gamer, I find myself often playing roles where I must maintain a sense of normalcy amidst uncertainty. Much like Rubens’ wife Eunice (Torres), I strive to shield my youngest ones from the tense situation brewing around us. Yet, with armed strangers within our home and a watchful eye always across the street, it becomes increasingly challenging to justify these peculiar circumstances. My older kids, however, are not as naive; they sense something amiss, and it’s a struggle to keep up the facade of everything being alright.
The circumstances grow tense as Eunice gets taken away for questioning. With Vera absent in London with family acquaintances, it falls on the 15-year-old Eliana (Luiza Kozovski) to go along with her mother. Bags are placed over their heads to conceal their destination from them.
The intense interrogation sequences take place within a dismal structure containing detention cells. For twelve long days, Eunice is segregated. She’s deprived of any interaction with her family attorney, leaving her in total darkness regarding the fate of her daughter and the whereabouts of her husband. Repeatedly pressured to identify individuals from photographic files as suspected insurgents, she only recognizes one woman who instructs at her daughter’s school, besides her husband. Her solitude and terror are amplified by the continuous cries of torture victims echoing through the walls.
After Eunice’s release, there are several heartfelt instances of genuine affection that stand out – for example, when one of her daughters stands at the bathroom door, her expression a blend of sadness and fear, as she watches her mother wash off 12 days worth of dirt in the shower.
Despite the government denying that Eunice’s husband was detained, she persistently seeks details by speaking with Rubens’ acquaintances who claim the military is operating blindly, apprehending individuals based on flimsy evidence. Struggling to manage financial obligations without her husband’s approval for bank transactions, she finds herself in a tight spot. Concurrently, she starts delving into the family lawyer’s case files, hinting at her future plan to move with their five children to São Paulo and resume her education.
1. Marcelo Rubens Paiva’s book primarily highlights the silent bravery of his mother, Eunice. Initially, she stood strong as a lone figure, ensuring the family’s safety and hiding her sorrow upon learning of the inevitable truth. Later, at 48 years old, she pursued a law degree and engaged in various advocacies. This included fighting for official recognition of missing individuals like Rubens once democracy was restored to their country.
Perhaps the most beautifully observed arc of the film is the gradual rebuilding of the family. As the children grow up and marry and grandchildren come along, they transition back into a noisy, joyful clan much like the one depicted in carefree scenes at the start. Even the simple process of sorting through boxes of family photos is viewed as a loving act of reclamation in a final stretch that will have many audiences in tears.
In the remarkable early film directed by Salles, titled “Foreign Land“, Torres (one of the stars) exhibits an eloquent reserve that beautifully portrays Eunice’s hidden suffering and her resilience. She only lets out a shout of anger in response to a tragic event, banging on the windows of the parked car observing the Rio house and yelling at the two emotionless men within.
In the closing moments, Montenegro assumes his part, yet these scenes carry a mix of sweetness and sadness. Eunice, now silent and reliant on a wheelchair, is battling Alzheimer’s severely. The emotional impact is almost unbearable as we observe her tenderly incline towards the screen, her eyes sparkling brightly and a faint smile emerging, upon seeing Rubens’ photograph during a TV program about resistance heroes.
As I sat down to watch this movie, I was immediately struck by its stunning visuals. Adrian Teijido’s skillful cinematography, captured on 35mm film, creates a gritty texture reminiscent of the ’70s. The occasional use of Super 8mm footage from that era adds a charming authenticity to the storytelling.
Despite needing a more distinctive global title that isn’t a famous Stephen Sondheim tune, “I’m Still Here” is an emotionally powerful and deeply moving film. It ranks among Salles’ finest works.
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2024-09-01 21:55