Walter Salles’ I’m Still Here is an intimate glimpse into the Paiva family’s resilience amid Brazil’s brutal military dictatorship in the 1970s. Adapted from Marcelo Rubens Paiva’s memoir, the story follows Eunice Paiva (Fernanda Torres), a mother thrust into a quiet yet fierce battle for survival after her husband, Rubens (Selton Mello), is snatched away by the regime, never to return. It’s a tale rooted in real history, brimming with potential for raw human drama, and Salles, known for his tender touch in films like Central Station, seems primed to deliver. For me, the narrative itself is undeniably fascinating—a stark reminder of the personal toll exacted by political oppression—but the film falls short of forging the emotional connection needed to truly pull me in.
The story centers on the Paiva family living in sun-drenched Rio de Janeiro. At first, their world is a collage of beach days and laughter. Fernanda Torres anchors the film as Eunice Paiva, a mother of five whose effortless grace masks a steel core that only reveals itself when her husband, Rubens (Selton Mello), is snatched away by the regime. What begins as a seemingly routine “deposition” spirals into a void of uncertainty, leaving Eunice to hold her fracturing family together while chasing shadows for answers. Fernanda Torres delivers a performance of remarkable restraint as Eunice, her face a map of suppressed grief and steely resolve as she navigates an uncertain future for her five children. It’s a subtle, lived-in portrayal that critics have rightly praised, and yet, I found myself admiring it more than feeling it.
Salles, known for Central Station and The Motorcycle Diaries, brings his signature humanism to the fore, but this time with a quieter intensity. It’s a slow burn, almost too slow at times, as the story stretches across decades, jumping to 1996 and 2014 to trace the long tail of trauma.
I’m Still Here didn’t engage me as much as I hoped: despite its compelling premise and strong acting, it keeps its audience at arm’s length. The film’s deliberate pacing and muted tone—hallmarks of Salles’ arthouse style—work to evoke a sense of lingering loss, but they also dampen the emotional impact. I wanted to ache alongside Eunice, to feel the gut-punch of her husband’s absence and the terror of a regime closing in, but the emotional beats often land softly where they could have struck hard. The time jumps to 1996 and 2014, showing Eunice’s enduring fight for justice (with Fernanda Montenegro stepping in as the older Eunice), add historical scope but dilute the intensity of the central tragedy. It’s as if the film is reluctance to dig deeper into the political machinery behind Rubens’ disappearance.
There’s no denying Salles’ craft or his personal investment in this tale of resistance. The history it unearths—Brazil’s dictatorship, the disappeared, the families left behind—is vital and gripping, and I’m glad it’s being told. But as a viewer, I found myself more intellectually engaged than emotionally invested. I’m Still Here is a film I respect immensely for its intent and execution, yet it left me longing for a spark—a moment of raw connection—to bridge the gap between its powerful story and my heart.
I’m Still Here arrives at Luna Palace Cinemas Thursday, Feb 27, 2025
Email:neill@outloudculture.com
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