

I'm Still Here

A woman married to a former politician during the 1971 military dictatorship in Brazil is forced to reinvent herself and chart a new course for her family after a violent and arbitrary act.
A woman married to a former politician during the 1971 military dictatorship in Brazil is forced to reinvent herself and chart a new course for her family after a violent and arbitrary act.
“I’m Still Here” goes beyond being just another film about the military dictatorship, offering a human, intense, and brutally intimate portrait of a family unraveling under overwhelming, uncontrollable forces. Walter Salles, with his raw style and unmatched sensitivity, returns to the theme of a country immersed in repression, but rather than focusing on big political events, he zeroes in on their consequences within homes and personal lives. By centering the story on family drama, Salles subverts the expectation of a traditional historical film, avoiding documentary tones or a broad, structural focus. Here, 1970s Brazil is felt through the struggles of the Paiva family, and in the painful details of their shared wounds, Salles portrays the scars left by a dictatorship that, while distorted in collective memory, remains alive in the lives it shattered.
Choosing to center the narrative through Eunice’s perspective—played by the iconic Fernanda Torres and Fernanda Montenegro—lends the film an undeniable authenticity. While dealing with the loss of her husband, Rubens Paiva (Selton Mello), a public figure and defender of the people’s rights, Eunice has to keep the family together and maintain her children’s emotional stability. Eunice is the pure embodiment of resilience and motherly love, and her daily routine, her rituals with her children, and moments shared as a family are slices of a once-ordinary life, now wrecked by an abrupt absence. Family dinners and memories of beach outings become painful when revisited after Rubens’ disappearance, as they reveal the empty space left by systemic violence. Salles skillfully uses this family intimacy to show how dictatorship destroys emotional bonds and disrupts each home’s peace, prompting audiences to reflect on how history is also shaped by losses and silent moments in everyday life.
Fernanda Torres’ performance is intensely deserving of praise. She embodies a woman who refuses to let grief immobilize her, balancing the protection of her children with the relentless search for answers about her husband’s whereabouts. This balance between strength and vulnerability gives Eunice a striking and essential presence in the film. In a moving and remarkably mature performance, Montenegro, as the older Eunice, intensifies the impact of Rubens’ absence, bringing a heavy, almost physical silence that resonates in those who never got the chance to say goodbye. The real-life relationship between Montenegro and Torres as mother and daughter adds authenticity to the transitions across time, making Eunice’s portrayal even more heartfelt and believable. This genuine continuity allows Salles’ film to transcend mere fiction and reach a depth that only a personal story can achieve.
Technically, the film is a visual achievement that captures this family’s intimate pain through meticulously crafted cinematography. The use of confined spaces and close-up shots reveals the characters’ physical and psychological confinement, mirroring the oppression that hangs over their lives. The soundtrack follows the most emotional scenes with an almost mystical quality, blending with the characters’ feelings like a whisper that holds the pains of the past. Salles’ use of music is interesting, not just to intensify the drama but to evoke an almost tangible nostalgia in the air, an echo of absences that can never be overcome. This balance between aesthetics and emotion transforms the film into both a tribute to interrupted lives and a celebration of the struggle for justice and memory.
The narrative avoids an easy or simplistic conclusion, choosing instead a more contemplative view on the lasting impact of loss. The film moves forward in time, showing us the future of each family member without offering conclusive or comforting answers. What remains is the pain, an indignation turned into strength, and a refusal to let difficult moments fade into oblivion. Rubens’ absence and the commitment of Eunice and her children to preserving his memory result in a catharsis for the audience, as it’s both inspiring and deeply moving to see how they, even amid so much pain, resist the urge to let Rubens’ legacy be erased—and the film’s goal to evoke tears was masterfully achieved, at least for me.
Overall, “I’m Still Here” is one of those rare historical films that, instead of adopting a documentary or openly critical stance, takes a humanistic approach that resonates with our deepest emotions and values. Salles proves his mastery as a filmmaker by crafting a story that is, at once, infuriating and inspiring—a work that reminds us of the importance of keeping the memories and voices of the wronged alive. Through a captivating narrative and an extraordinary cast, he turns the story of a Brazilian family into a universal reminder of human dignity and the importance of memory as a form of resistance.
With incredible performances, almost perfect production, and a heartbreaking story, "I'm still here" (Ainda estou aqui, no original), makes us feel the despair of a family living through of one Brazil's worst periods.
One of the best Brazilian films ever produced. An instant classic. It addresses an episode in the country's sad history. Incredible performances, and impeccable filmography and editing. The script is an adaptation of the autobiographical book "Ainda estou aqui", by Marcelo Rubens Paiva, which addresses details of his family, with the disappearance of his father, Rubens Paiva, who was murdered by the Brazilian military dictatorship, and how his mother Eunice Paiva dealt with the situation and took care of the family.
Let's not allow these dark times ever again, please.
This is Brazil cinema at it's peak! Must watch.
Earthshattering. Walter managed to make a very compelling story, about not only family ties but the story of our country across forty-three years (1971-2014), even more compelling, dense, profound. I know wherever Eunice and Rubens are, they are glad that their personal struggles, setbacks, longings, are reaching many, many people across the world.
I love how my country was able to make such a good film to the point of having a loyal nomination, thank you my dear Fernanda Torres for this performance.
A powerful and emotional masterpiece. "I'm Still Here" delivers outstanding performances, especially by Fernanda Torres, and tells a deeply moving story about love, loss, and resilience during Brazil's dictatorship. A must-watch. 10/10.
It turned out to be my favourite film of the year. Possibly because it featured the most beautiful character I was introduced to all year, Eunice Palva. Never mind the rivers of bleating on your social networks about lurches to one political direction or another: nothing can ever distract you from the love you can make and the love that endures. A joyful if sober watch.
Watching this movie is a monumental experience. Eunice Paiva's story in itself is already fascinating, because of everything she faced and the way she coped, and the transposition of all this into film has resulted in something unique and extraordinary. Walter Salles' direction is exquisite, full of details and nuances that recreate a setting rich in identity. Every element, from the images to the objects, including the perfectly adjusted soundtrack, contributes to complete immersion. The performances are superb, the entire cast is cohesive and delivers a powerful dynamic, with the highlight being Fernanda Torres' outstanding performance, her acting is of a level rarely seen, deeply expressive, her gaze conveys more than words, it is truly impressive how she gives herself to the role. In addition, the participation of Fernanda Montenegro, in a cathartic and unforgettable scene, further heightens the emotional impact of the film. It's a masterpiece in every sense.
“I’m Still Here” goes beyond being just another film about the military dictatorship, offering a human, intense, and brutally intimate portrait of a family unraveling under overwhelming, uncontrollable forces. Walter Salles, with his raw style and unmatched sensitivity, returns to the theme of a country immersed in repression, but rather than focusing on big political events, he zeroes in on their consequences within homes and personal lives. By centering the story on family drama, Salles subverts the expectation of a traditional historical film, avoiding documentary tones or a broad, structural focus. Here, 1970s Brazil is felt through the struggles of the Paiva family, and in the painful details of their shared wounds, Salles portrays the scars left by a dictatorship that, while distorted in collective memory, remains alive in the lives it shattered.
Choosing to center the narrative through Eunice’s perspective—played by the iconic Fernanda Torres and Fernanda Montenegro—lends the film an undeniable authenticity. While dealing with the loss of her husband, Rubens Paiva (Selton Mello), a public figure and defender of the people’s rights, Eunice has to keep the family together and maintain her children’s emotional stability. Eunice is the pure embodiment of resilience and motherly love, and her daily routine, her rituals with her children, and moments shared as a family are slices of a once-ordinary life, now wrecked by an abrupt absence. Family dinners and memories of beach outings become painful when revisited after Rubens’ disappearance, as they reveal the empty space left by systemic violence. Salles skillfully uses this family intimacy to show how dictatorship destroys emotional bonds and disrupts each home’s peace, prompting audiences to reflect on how history is also shaped by losses and silent moments in everyday life.
Fernanda Torres’ performance is intensely deserving of praise. She embodies a woman who refuses to let grief immobilize her, balancing the protection of her children with the relentless search for answers about her husband’s whereabouts. This balance between strength and vulnerability gives Eunice a striking and essential presence in the film. In a moving and remarkably mature performance, Montenegro, as the older Eunice, intensifies the impact of Rubens’ absence, bringing a heavy, almost physical silence that resonates in those who never got the chance to say goodbye. The real-life relationship between Montenegro and Torres as mother and daughter adds authenticity to the transitions across time, making Eunice’s portrayal even more heartfelt and believable. This genuine continuity allows Salles’ film to transcend mere fiction and reach a depth that only a personal story can achieve.
Technically, the film is a visual achievement that captures this family’s intimate pain through meticulously crafted cinematography. The use of confined spaces and close-up shots reveals the characters’ physical and psychological confinement, mirroring the oppression that hangs over their lives. The soundtrack follows the most emotional scenes with an almost mystical quality, blending with the characters’ feelings like a whisper that holds the pains of the past. Salles’ use of music is interesting, not just to intensify the drama but to evoke an almost tangible nostalgia in the air, an echo of absences that can never be overcome. This balance between aesthetics and emotion transforms the film into both a tribute to interrupted lives and a celebration of the struggle for justice and memory.
The narrative avoids an easy or simplistic conclusion, choosing instead a more contemplative view on the lasting impact of loss. The film moves forward in time, showing us the future of each family member without offering conclusive or comforting answers. What remains is the pain, an indignation turned into strength, and a refusal to let difficult moments fade into oblivion. Rubens’ absence and the commitment of Eunice and her children to preserving his memory result in a catharsis for the audience, as it’s both inspiring and deeply moving to see how they, even amid so much pain, resist the urge to let Rubens’ legacy be erased—and the film’s goal to evoke tears was masterfully achieved, at least for me.
Overall, “I’m Still Here” is one of those rare historical films that, instead of adopting a documentary or openly critical stance, takes a humanistic approach that resonates with our deepest emotions and values. Salles proves his mastery as a filmmaker by crafting a story that is, at once, infuriating and inspiring—a work that reminds us of the importance of keeping the memories and voices of the wronged alive. Through a captivating narrative and an extraordinary cast, he turns the story of a Brazilian family into a universal reminder of human dignity and the importance of memory as a form of resistance.