It was Brazil, 1964, when a military dictatorship ravaged not the ground and the grass of the country with blood, but the walls and floors of the smallest and most private torture chambers.
It may sound odd to think of a government-imposed violent time when violence was not seen or heard. Instead, it was felt when a loved one or classmate would suddenly disappear. The level of secrecy involving what happened in Brazil for 21 years is not something lightly understood. We tend to imagine war as loud; there are bombs, soldiers and artillery. But how do you go when war has broken your own house, the news, the government, the artists, and yet your mother won’t dare to share?
Since the military dictatorship became “the past,” many movies and documentaries have been made about it. A popular Brazilian saying when thinking of the art generated by this piece of history is, “We make it to never forget.”
Filmmaker Walter Salles is the driving force behind the film “I’m Still Here,” released in 2024. The movie narrates the real story of the Paiva family during the 1970s, focusing on the looming disappearance of the father, Rubens Paiva (Selton Mello). It delves into the 40-year psychological struggle his wife, Eunice (Fernanda Torres), faced as she sought to uncover the truth behind his disappearance.
Viewers will notice a quietly cataclysmic and unsettling tone throughout the film. That derives from the book that originated the film written by Marcelo Rubens Paiva, the youngest son of the family.
Rubens Paiva, an engineer and pre-coup congressman in the Brazilian Chamber of Deputies, spent six years in self-imposed exile following the coup. The film opens with Rubens returning from exile to reunite with his beautiful wife, five children, and their home in Leblon beach, Rio de Janeiro. Despite his return, the dictatorship remained in place. Soon, Eunice becomes aware that her husband has been receiving an unusual number of secret calls.
One day, the oldest daughter, Vera (Valentina Herszage), is stopped and questioned by government officials in the streets. Shortly after, these same officials arrive at the family’s house and take Rubens with them.
The focus then shifts to the story’s heroine, Eunice, who embarks on a 40-year search for her husband’s true fate. All while trying to raise and protect their four children while, as Torres described, she “reinvent[s] herself and become[s] herself.” I mention four children because Vera is already aware of the country’s situation and is too politically aware to be deceived.
The coming of age in relation to the gain of knowledge as a doom is effectively illustrated by the eldest daughter. A pivotal moment occurs when a journalist visits the Paiva household after Rubens is gone. He intends to take a picture of a suffering family for his publication. However, Eunice tells the children, “We will smile.” All of them comply, except for Vera. Despite the rebellious youth interpretation, Eunice’s smile was not an attempt to fool herself and her kids that all was well. Instead, it was a maturity that only comes with age, a statement no hardship will break her or them.
Eunice Paiva’s quest for information led her down many paths, but the truth remained hidden in the hands of those in power. It was not until 1996, 11 years after the end of the dictatorship, that the Brazilian government finally provided Eunice with a death certificate for her husband, Rubens.
However, even though she had his death confirmed, the truth about what happened to him after being taken by the government and cause of death were not revealed until 2012, when President Dilma Rousseff established the Truth Commission, allowing families of the disappeared to uncover what had happened to their loved ones. Thanks to this commission, Marcelo Rubens Paiva was able to gather enough material about his father to write “I’m Still Here.”
The film features honest performances that resonate deeply with Brazilians, as the dictatorship lives as a memory even for those who were not born to experience it. Torres, who has consistently captivated Brazilian audiences, delivers arguably the finest performance of her career. Her poignant and brave portrayal earned her the Golden Globe for Best Actress in a Drama Motion Picture, and she is currently running an Oscar campaign.
Adding a personal dimension, her mother, the talented Fernanda Montenegro, plays an older version of Eunice, who suffers from Alzheimer’s disease. In 1999, Montenegro was nominated for an Oscar for her performance in “Central Station,” another film by Salles, but lost to Gwyneth Paltrow for her role in “Shakespeare in Love.”
Many Brazilians share a common either-or experience: some families deny the dictatorship, while others have endured its consequences and pass on the knowledge. Today’s youth navigates an environment filled with secrets that art and remembrance seek to unravel. The dictatorship thrived on secrecy, aiming for it to be forgotten, but “I’m Still Here” serves as a vital reminder that Latin America will not erase it from memory.
