Grief is said to have five stages — denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. But in the nightmare endured by the Paiva family there is no hope to accept what has happened to them as the government who tortured and executed the beloved head of their family deny he was ever even arrested. The latest film from Brazilian director Water Salles, best know for “The Motorcycle Diaries,” uncovers the Kafkaesque cruelty at the center of the military dictatorship that ruled its country from 1968-1985. Where a family is irreparably traumatized by their father’s fate and, as its matriarch Eunice (Fernanda Torres) puts it, “you leave everyone behind in a state of irreparable torture.” That torture was captured in the memoirs of the youngest Paiva family member, Marcello, whose book on what happened to his father Rubens (Selton Mello) is the basis for Salles’ film.
When “I’m Still Here” (Ainda Estou Aqui) introduces the large, rambunctious family, they are living in a well-appointed but warm home by the beach in Rio De Janeiro, the sort of idyllic existence that is the envy of their neighbors. Her signature souffle never fails to rise, everyone is always stylishly turned out, and the door is always open to a parade of friends, colleagues, and sweet puppies ripe for adoption. This is the world that almost half of Salles’ film engulfs us in. Of parties, fine whiskey on ice and warm familial bonds they lovingly capture on old super-8 cameras but Salles has the violence slowly creep in, with trucks filled with soldiers tearing down street in the background the whirring of helicopters interrupting their conversations. Their happiness and political standing (Rubens is a well-connected former congressman) given them an agonizing delusion of safety, and even when they have seen that they are targets it doesn’t fully sink in. A desperate Eunice admits to her son’s teacher, “My husband is in danger!,” and its down to her to plainly inform the quasi-widow that, “We’re all in danger.”
Still, even knowing what is to come, given the infamy of Rubens’ fate is still well known as a symbol of the regime’s cruelty, the act of his arrest is unbearably rendered with his naïve youngest children blissfully unaware of what the five men that enter their home with pistols tucked in their belts mean for their beloved father. The interrogation scenes are just as brutal, with the authority figures adopting a less typical Bad Cop-Bad Cop style and near breaking people’s psyche by keeping them untethered from time in dark cells where they only emerge for torture or to be asked the same exact set of questions.
The second half of his film focusses on Eunice and her quest simply for answers, the idea of them getting justice never feels on the table, but the film instead is a path out of the madness of system where to simply have what happened to their father admitted would fill some of the void he has left behind.
Fernanda Torres’ performance as Eunice is every bit as spectacular as her filmography would suggest, having marked herself out as one of the South American continent’s greatest actors in roles in “Foreign Land” (also directed by Salles) and won a Palme d’Or for Best Actress in “Love Me Forever of Never.” Her Eunice possesses phenomenal strength and stoicism which make each moment of pain that peep through the chinks of her armor all the more moving. Its also, thanks to both her and Mello’s formidable talents, a family whose affection feels lived-in and intimate. Even if this stasis of mourning cannot be fully escaped, the reasons they are able to endure are clear from the many small kindnesses that fill so many of their scenes, a reassuring grip on the shoulder, a borrowed shirt, and space made in the bed beside you for those too afraid to sleep.
While the impact of what the military family did to this once-happy family is a vital part of Brazil’s historical record, there are pacing issues as it draws to a close. The film’s final half hour is a series of false endings, feeling unsure of just what moment would give the audience the satisfaction that would forever elude the family. Where it’s impossible to truly move on, the march of time only goes in one direction and life without Rubens ends with a kiss and a promise that he’d be back in time to have a slice of his wife’s famous souffle.
Yet there is still a sense of optimism as the film, in classic biopic style, shows a series of photographs of the real figures before its end credits which solidifies that this is a work about unspeakable cruelty but also a legacy of love. Rubens Paiva was a man who was deeply, profoundly loved by those he left behind and no matter what sadistic dictatorship, brutal soliders or cold-hearted bureaucrats did to erase him, they never accomplished it.
Grade: B
“I’m Still Here” premiered at the 2024 Venice Film Festival. It is currently seeking U.S. distribution.
