I'm Still Here

Lest anyone think that our current government’s practice of pulling people off the street or out of their homes, and taking them to prisons from which they will never return, is a new idea, they should know that dictatorships have been doing this for quite a while. Military governments in 20th century Argentina, Chile, and Brazil, for instance, made this a regular practice, leaving a legacy of mourning and protest by the relatives of the “disappeared.” I’m Still Here, the most recent film from Brazilian director Walter Salles, dramatizes the real-life story of a family who suffered this outrage. We first meet the Paiva family, Rubens, Eunice, and their children, enjoying life in their home near the beach in Rio de Janeiro. Rubens, played by Selton Mello is a former congressman who was forced to resign after the 1964 military coup. The couple has four girls, the oldest being 17, and one boy, the youngest child. It’s a boisterous home atmosphere, with parties and games and some humorous teasing. The first real sign of trouble occurs when Vera, the 17-year-old, is in a car with friends when they come to a police roadblock where they are ordered out of the car and handled roughly. The cops are looking for suspects in a recent kidnapping of a foreign diplomat. It’s not clear what Rubens does for a living now, exactly—something in the civil service. His friends are people who opposed the coup, many working as journalists. Rubens sometimes receives mysterious letters in manila envelopes. Clearly he’s still politically involved, in some low-key fashion. When his daughter Vera is given a chance to leave Brazil and study in London, he gladly lets her. The film now largely takes the point of view of his wife Eunice, showing her capable and loving management of the family, and after we get to know her interesting mind and reliable character, she takes center stage in the film. She knows nothing about any political activity by her husband, which as it turns out was intentional. Eunice is played by Fernanda Torres. This is one of those happy occasions when a single actor can hold a movie together with a totally grounded performance of emotional honesty. Her Golden Globe award and Oscar nomination were fully deserved. One winter’s day, some armed men in plainclothes come to the house and order Rubens to come with them and make a deposition. He drives away with one of them, and Eunice is left trying to calm the children. The men say that he will be back soon. But after a couple days, she makes inquiries about her husband’s whereabouts, and they bring her in for questioning along with her 15-year-old daughter, which is an effective way of striking fear into a parent’s heart. The daughter is released after a day, but Eunice is thrown into a cell for twelve days, and interrogated about people she saw visiting her home. The film then settles in to a vivid portrayal of Eunice’s state of mind, as her husband fails to come home, day after day. It’s perpetual mental and emotional torture, when a loved one has been “disappeared” without a trace. This mother manages to protect and sustain her children through this terrible ordeal, and fight for the truth. Salles is paying tribute to the survivors through the story of this heroic woman, Eunice Paiva. The title, I’m Still Here, is a cry of defiance. You cannot kill our joy.

An episode of the Flicks with The Film Snob podcast, hosted by Chris Dashiell, titled "I'm Still Here" was published on May 5, 2025 and runs 3 minutes.

May 5, 2025 ·3m · Flicks with The Film Snob

Summary

Lest anyone think that our current government’s practice of pulling people off the street or out of their homes, and taking them to prisons from which they will never return, is a new idea, they should know that dictatorships have been doing this for quite a while. Military governments in 20th century Argentina, Chile, and Brazil, for instance, made this a regular practice, leaving a legacy of mourning and protest by the relatives of the “disappeared.” I’m Still Here, the most recent film from Brazilian director Walter Salles, dramatizes the real-life story of a family who suffered this outrage. We first meet the Paiva family, Rubens, Eunice, and their children, enjoying life in their home near the beach in Rio de Janeiro. Rubens, played by Selton Mello is a former congressman who was forced to resign after the 1964 military coup. The couple has four girls, the oldest being 17, and one boy, the youngest child. It’s a boisterous home atmosphere, with parties and games and some humorous teasing. The first real sign of trouble occurs when Vera, the 17-year-old, is in a car with friends when they come to a police roadblock where they are ordered out of the car and handled roughly. The cops are looking for suspects in a recent kidnapping of a foreign diplomat. It’s not clear what Rubens does for a living now, exactly—something in the civil service. His friends are people who opposed the coup, many working as journalists. Rubens sometimes receives mysterious letters in manila envelopes. Clearly he’s still politically involved, in some low-key fashion. When his daughter Vera is given a chance to leave Brazil and study in London, he gladly lets her. The film now largely takes the point of view of his wife Eunice, showing her capable and loving management of the family, and after we get to know her interesting mind and reliable character, she takes center stage in the film. She knows nothing about any political activity by her husband, which as it turns out was intentional. Eunice is played by Fernanda Torres. This is one of those happy occasions when a single actor can hold a movie together with a totally grounded performance of emotional honesty. Her Golden Globe award and Oscar nomination were fully deserved. One winter’s day, some armed men in plainclothes come to the house and order Rubens to come with them and make a deposition. He drives away with one of them, and Eunice is left trying to calm the children. The men say that he will be back soon. But after a couple days, she makes inquiries about her husband’s whereabouts, and they bring her in for questioning along with her 15-year-old daughter, which is an effective way of striking fear into a parent’s heart. The daughter is released after a day, but Eunice is thrown into a cell for twelve days, and interrogated about people she saw visiting her home. The film then settles in to a vivid portrayal of Eunice’s state of mind, as her husband fails to come home, day after day. It’s perpetual mental and emotional torture, when a loved one has been “disappeared” without a trace. This mother manages to protect and sustain her children through this terrible ordeal, and fight for the truth. Salles is paying tribute to the survivors through the story of this heroic woman, Eunice Paiva. The title, I’m Still Here, is a cry of defiance. You cannot kill our joy.

Episode Description