- Date of Release: 15 January 2025
- Genre: Biopic, Drama, Historical
- Language: Portuguese
- Watch On: Apple TV+
I'm Still Here
Introduction
The beauty of the film I’m Still Here (Oscar’25 Winner – Best International Feature) lies in its detailing. The drama here is political in many ways, but politics doesn’t form the milleu of the film. Hence, you won’t get long speeches of freedom accompanying the narrative, in fact you get a sense of the politics of the land through extended moments of silence and grief of Eunice Paiva (Fernanda Torres), who valiantly searches for answers about her missing husband. In a scene, you see her entering a church, often regarded as a place for prayers and worship. It is a place where you resort to the High Almighty to seek answers for your life. But Eunice seeks answers elsewhere, more specifically turning towards Martha, a character last known to be with her husband after being unofficially pulled up for deposition. You witness a desperate Eunice citing how her husband is in danger, to which Martha replies that everyone is in danger – a fleeting statement that perfectly sums up the military rule and the dictatorship that plagued Brazil from 1964 to 1985, a period regarded as the darkest in the history of the South American country. But the idea here is to reduce the politics to the background, while painting a searing picture of angst and longing that truly formulates the fabric of storytelling here.
Story & Screenplay
One of the more fascinating aspects of the drama lies in its world building. While the drama begins in 1970, an era wherein the South American country had already been under a dictatorship rule for over 6 years, the tone of the drama interestingly appears to be light and frothy. You are introduced to the Paiva family in their happier times, with the opening shot being that of the characters spending time on the Leblon beach. There isn’t necessarily a sign of tension brewing in that setup even as you are acquainted with Rubens Paiva (Selton Mello), an ex-congressman who had recently returned to his hometown after fleeing from the scene following a military coup in 1964 that marked the start of the dictatorship in the country. You are witness to Rubens in happier times with his family, still taking discreet phone calls, or handing out private letters, even as Eunice is content being a silent observer.
The characterization remains a fascinating aspect in the drama even as the focus remains on the family and dynamics in the first act. You are witness to Rubens’ friends who are leftist elements themselves, often voicing their opinion in the four walls of the room. There is an occasional slogan chanted during a friends and family photoshoot as well, even as politics looms around them in the form of flying choppers or army vehicles carrying additional troops, or even news being played out about the release of a certain Swiss ambassador. The earliest form of politics though erupts in the form of Rubens eldest daughter Vera (Valentina Herszage), who is suddenly stopped and frisked in the middle of the road, even as her younger siblings remain disconnected with the incident. Hence, sending Vera packing is the first sign of the threat looming in the vicinity that would soon become a reality.
Interestingly when the threat does arrive at Rubens’ doorstep, it is intimidating but never quite threatening to begin with. It is only with every passing minute, and with Eunice being called in for questioning that actually triggers a harrowing watch. The setup itself acts as a metaphor here. The colourful landscapes of the beach and the bright reflections of the sun on the sand where you initially see the family rejoicing is essentially symbolic of the country, who has once experienced freedom. Cut to the dim light corridors of the authorities, or even the glum atmosphere of Eunice’s own house, drowned in the angst of the turn of incidents, symbolizes a nation grappling under the military rule. There are clearly no laws to the land much like a few countries of the modern era known to impose their power on innocent lives. Yet, the political commentary is reduced to the background – it never comes to the forefront, instead focusing on the psychological impact on a person when you don’t get the answers to some definite questions.
The focus remains on Eunice who soon is forced to take a silent political stance in the quest of her missing husband. Her stance doesn’t necessarily mean holding protests, but a silent war with herself even while jostling between the media personnel and the government authorities, and to no avail. It is the psychological condition of a chapter in her life that lingered on, while she keenly awaited a closure – initially with hope, and later with an extended period of hopelessness. Her financial condition (and her helper’s too who is forced to ask for money during times of turmoil) is also reflective of the drowning socio-economical state of the country whose repercussions are still felt today. The focus also remains on her equation with her children wherein her initial calmer personality, makes way for angst with her children being at the receiving end.
Buried in this political and social lamdscape, is also a little message of education through the character of Eunice who opts to complete her degree at the age of 48. So even as the drama shifts the first of its two timelines to the year 1996, you see the financial state of the family a lot better than what it was earlier. When you see the members of the family, they seem to be happy but having resigned to their state, something that is symbolic of the state of the country in its post dictatorship era, contented but grappling with the issues of its past. So even when Eunice receives an official closure, there are no real emotions that she showcases – just a gentle trip down memory lane during the happier times of her family with her husband by her side. Even when two of her children (having grown up now, and one of them being a famous novelist) interact with each other, one asks on when did the other realise that her father was dead, to which she replies, when they left their old place. That was symbolic also of moving ahead in life while leaving the past sorrows behind.
There is a recurring theme of a family photograph that transpires at regular instances in the drama. The first you see during happier times with all smiles around. The second interestingly is for the media coverage, wherein a smiling Eunice and her family are requested to look a little sad (as opposed to smiling freely). Here, you see Eunice genuinely trying hard to smile in front of her children to allow them to believe that their father is alive, even though she knew the truth deep within. The idea was to show the world that nothing could break her using smile as her tool of resistance, even as her reality remained something internal and scarring. The third picture was in 1996, with a family letting out a contented smile after receiving a closure. But when the drama shifts to 2014, you are witness to an 84 year old Eunice suffering from Alzeimer’s disease but still holding onto the last thread of her husband as her final memory. It is extremely emotional to witness her reacting to news on TV about her husband, it what has been an age-old process of longing for her (she didn’t get to see Rubens after the latter was ‘arrested’ from their homes). Hence, the final photograph involving the extended family of Eunice has everyone smiling barring Eunice herself, who only gently flinches her facial muscles, signifying her long lost battle of longing, even while willing to hold onto the last memory of her husband in her final days alive. This was the sort of ending that not only is capable of making you cry buckets and feel hollow, but also has a trait of lingering on, long after the film has ended. The screenplay is beautifully written and fills you with a plethora of emotions by the end of it.
Dialogues, Music & Direction
The dialogues are conversational but laced with a degree of politics that accompanies the narrative. Yet, there is an underlying layer of emotions brimming beneath the surface that wonderfully elevates the pain and angst that are recurring themes in the drama. The BGM is subtly impactful never trying to manipulate the proceedings or overpower it in any form. Instead, it is used to aide the narrative ahead. The cinematography comprises of a blurry colour palate that efficiently signifies the era of the 70s. The use of lighting in the frames also makes for a wonderfully contrasting experience – both representing the downward arc of a country who enjoyed freedom of speech once upon a time. The editing is crisp and sharp while keeping the emotions of the drama in check, that essentially holds the narrative together. Director Walter Salles does a tremendous job in opting to focus on the psychological barrier of the protagonist, in the wake of a political setup that makes for a balanced viewing. While the latter is infuriating, the focus on the emotional aspect of the drama deftly tugs the strings of your heart. As a result, you empathize with Eunice and the journey that she undergoes, even as your heart goes out for the family. The director maintains an emotional grip on the narrative such that you feel emotionally drained by the end of the film. The direction remains excellent through and through.
Performances
The performances are immaculate by the members of the cast. Pri Helena as Zeze has a journey of her own, dealing with an economic crisis while trying to be a pillar of support for her family. And she does a wonderful job. Cora Mora as Maria and Olivia Torres as older Maria are wonderful to witness and both have their moments to shine. Barbara Luz as Nalu and Gabriela Carneiro da Cunha as older Nalu are first rate and quite dependable with their performances. Luiza Kosovski as Eliana has an interesting character arc as the second daughter of Eunice who suddenly has to grow up after the fateful incident. Her vulnerabilities are beautifully explored through a moving performance. Likewise Marjorie Estiano as older Eliana extends that sense of maturity in the subsequent timeline. She is assured but gentle with her demeanor that makes for an incredible act. Guilherme Silveira as Marcelo is almost showcased as a rebel, wherein in a scene you see him breaking his sister’s doll. But when you see him (Antonio Saboia) all grown up (and a paraplegic), he remains calmer and matured as her sister. And both actors manage to represent their respective traits wonderfully well. Valentina Herszage as Vera represents her trait of an early political awakening really well. Her non-conformist attitude is effectively represented in an subtly impactful act. And Maria Manoella as older Vera represents a calmer version of her younger self in a nicely restrained performance.
Selton Mello as Rubens Paiva does an immaculate job because you are privy to his affable and joyous self while also being righteous in many ways. And so his fate is caoable of shattering you, in a performance that is well measured. Fernanda Torres quite honestly delivers a performance of a lifetime! As Eunice, you only see her in the background early on, almost being apolitical and content with life. In that regard, her character arc is filled with a plethora of silent emotions of waging a long lost battle with the authorities but also herself and her family. Her expressions and eyes speak a thousand words of the pain and suffering endured by her. Yet, the much awaited closure is something that also reflects on the psychology of her character. These were such complex emotions but so beautifully portrayed, that not only do you engage with them but they also linger on long after the film has ended. This was an acting masterclass of the highest order if ever there was on.
Conclusion
The Winner Of Best International Feature (Brazil) at the Oscars of 2025, I’m Still Here is a moving tale of silent pain and grief packaged in an agonizing and lingering drama on longing and closure, that makes for a brilliantly pondering watch. This is a drama that comes with my highest recommendation!
