Movie Review: A family is torn apart under Brazil’s dictatorship in ‘I’m Still Here’

It’s easy to fall in love with the Paiva family. Filmmaker Walter Salles makes sure of that in “I’m Still Here.”

He drops the audience into the warm everyday of the beautiful home of Eunice (Fernanda Torres) and Rubens Paiva (Selton Mello), in 1970s Rio de Janeiro, where their five kids run freely between the beach and their living room. Life is calmly chaotic, full of affection, gentle familial teasing and various life stages (one is about to lose a tooth, another about to go to university). Someone always seems to have wet hair, be covered in sand, or bringing in a mangy stray, as their youngest, Marcelo, does in the film’s lovely opening. Even if their life is technically worlds away from any one person in the audience, it feels familiar and close.

The Latest Movie Reviews

Movie Review: ‘Harold and the Purple Crayon’ brings beloved book to life in a familiar story

 

★★★★

Movie Review: ‘Cuckoo’ is a stylish nightmare, with a wonderfully sinister Dan Stevens

 

★★★★

Review: In ‘The Instigators,’ a heist goes terrifically wrong

 

★★★★

Movie Review: A third-act friendship comedy in ‘The Fabulous Four’- test

 

★★★★

Anyone coming to “I’m Still Here” will surely know that this domestic tranquility does not and cannot hold. It was about seven years into Brazil’s military dictatorship, which would last until 1985. And while the film suggests that there was a semblance of normalcy in their day to day, there are also ominous signs of change and oppression — reports of ambassadors being kidnapped on the news, and tense “random” traffic stops that their eldest daughter endures one night. Some left-leaning citizens are making plans to leave, but the Paiva family is not in a terrible rush. They’re even making plans to build a new home.

So when three men in civilian clothes enter their home one afternoon and tell Rubens, a former left-leaning congressman, that he needs to come in for questioning, it happens with little incident. Everyone is on guard — they’re not naive — but you sense that Eunice believes he will come back that night. Maybe even the next day. Rubens is calm changing into a collared shirt and tie and lying to his daughter that he is going into the office, even though it’s a holiday. But he also savors this moment with her, perhaps because he knows he’s likely to not return.

The film is based on a memoir written by Paiva’s son, Marcelo, but you don’t need to know that to know that it is first and foremost a memory piece. It is deeply personal and imbued with the kind of tenderness that is extremely difficult to see or appreciate in the moment. And although it’s certainly idealized and wistful, we accept any assumed white lies because we all wish that for ourselves: to truly recognize what we have before it’s gone.

This story is not about the abduction, however, or what may have happened to Rubens after that day. It’s about how Eunice continues on, through uncertainty, absence and, ultimately, the loss of hope. Salles chooses to tell this story in a rather straightforward manner, which works well, allowing the compelling narrative and the talented actors to carry the audience through.

At the heart of it is Torres, who has already won a Golden Globe for her performance and whose portrayal of Eunice is a true marvel. Mothers and wives often get the short shrift in movies like this, about Big Important Topics decided on by men, but Torres instills Eunice with a deep emotional and practical intelligence that’s beautifully feminine, whether she’s dealing with a misogynist banker, a dead dog in the street or the thugs surveilling her home. She’s fascinating and resilient in a way that so many women are in times of historical strife but rarely celebrated for.

In one particularly poignant scene, she and the kids are being photographed by a journalist hoping to tell their story. They smile together, as they did earlier in the film when Rubens was there. Now he’s not, and the reporters are confused. They ask Eunice to try a more serious expression. She laughs, “They want us to look sad,” and instructs her kids to keep smiling. It’s a perfect encapsulation of the complex spirit of the movie. Political disappearances don’t begin and end with the victim, or the toppling of a regime — they are generational traumas that live on in the survivors and alter everything in their wake.

“I’m Still Here,” a Sony Pictures Classics release in limited release Friday (expanding on Jan. 24), is rated PG-13 by the Motion Picture Association for “smoking, drug use, brief nudity, some strong language, thematic content.” Running time: 135 minutes. Three stars out of four.