I’m Still Here ★★★★

Rubens Pavia was a congressman prior to the 1964 Brazilian coup d’état which resulted in his role being revoked and Brazil’s government being replaced by a dictatorship. Years later in 1971, he was taken from his home, from his family. No one would be prosecuted for his forced disappearance. Walter Salles’ I’m Still Here is the story of Rubens’ (Selton Mello) kidnapping, his wife Eunice’s (Fernanda Torres) attempts to seek more information about his arrest and have him returned, and is adapted from their son Marcelo Rubens Paiva’s (Guilherme Silveira) memoir that carries on the legacy of his parents.

Most of the film centers on Eunice. She is a mother to five children and has to uncover more information about her husband’s arrest while maintaining her children’s safety. She faces danger with each new person she speaks to about her husband, yet has to work with lawyers, raise awareness for her husband, and fight false narratives that appear in the news that propose her husband fled to exile. Eunice knows very well her husband is being held by the military against his will. Her fear and that of the Brazilian populace is tangible as some acquaintances are hesitant to speak with Eunice. An early scene in the film mentions that Eunice’s daughter Vera (Valentina Herszage) was stopped by soldiers after seeing the Antonioni classic Blow-Up in theaters, a film that portrays how subjective photography and film can be and, by extension, how subjective propaganda shown on news television can be. This scene shows the presence of the military surveillance within the family’s day-to-day life, and is reinforced by a later scene at the beach where military trucks drive by in the background. Eunice is the only one who actively notices the motorcade and for her, they interrupt what is otherwise a treasured family outing at the beach.

After Rubens is disappeared, Eunice puts on a brave face for her family and attempts to shelter her children from the internal horrors she is experiencing. She fears the worst, yet is defiant and insistent in her efforts to free her husband despite military intimidation. While feeling great pain, she continues to be present and affectionate for her children. Her children, due to their young age, would go on to live the greater part of their life without their father. But for Eunice, losing Rubens is to lose a part of herself and not knowing whether he is alive places immense strain on her.

After a time, Eunice makes the decision that the family should move to São Paulo. This decision would mark a period of reluctant acceptance that Rubens would not be freed, but provides the family greater safety and closeness to Eunice’s family. It also represents the beginning of a new opportunity for Eunice as she attends law school. Eunice would graduate from law school at the age of 48 and advocated for the rights of victims of political repression and the indigenous people of Brazil. Notably, she pressured the Brazilian government to open the military dictatorship’s closed records and acknowledge the disappeared people and their deaths.

By all accounts, Eunice’s career in law is inspiring and for most accomplished lawyers, a career like hers would be the defining characteristic of their life. But for Eunice, the effect of the dictatorship and her grief casts a dark shadow over her accomplishments that can’t be overlooked. As such, I’m Still Here provides a grim counterpoint to fellow 2024 release The Brutalist’s final claim. Eunice’s legacy will be forever tied to her husband’s disappearance and the abuses of the dictatorship. The feeling of helplessness, despite all of her accomplishments, remains when control over her life, freedom, and peace is taken away by a repressive government. This is illustrated in a somber closing scene.

Ultimately, I’m Still Here pays homage to Eunice’s courage and determination. Eunice’s protectiveness of her children and their innocence would ensure that they would have as complete of a childhood as possible. The film is also a plea to not forget the past and to surface the damaging toll that fascism takes on a family and on a country. It wouldn’t be until 1996, more than a decade following the end of the dictatorship, that the Brazilian government would acknowledge Rubens’ fate. And even in its theatrical release, I’m Still Here was boycotted by the Brazilian far-right who were in denial of the cruelty of the military dictatorship. This is unfortunate evidence of the relevance of Walter Salles’ film and the need to tell stories of families such as the Pavia’s if there is any hope that a troubled past can be overcome.