When Oscar season arrives there are always one or two movies that end up feeling like homework. These movies are typically decent, but tend to fit the mold of what we would dismissively call “Oscar bait.” I will admit that I went into I’m Still Here expecting exactly that: an “important” drama that the Academy loves to put on a pedestal as a way of patting themselves on the back for touting movies that are “good for you.” What I mean to say is that I liked CODA well enough, but we can all agree that the delightful indie won its Best Picture for progressive nutritiousness more than it did for cinematic arts and sciences. So forgive me for assuming that I’m Still Here, the true story of Eunice Paiva, a woman forced to keep her family together after a military dictatorship kidnaps her husband, would be an bit Oscar bait-y.
Well, as it turns out…
… I was very wrong in my assumption. I’m Still Here doesn’t feel like homework at all. It’s thrilling, timely, and rapturously engaging for the entirety of its runtime. In fact, the only real homework movie on the Oscar list is Wicked, which is akin to doing said homework on a desk made of knives, with an anthrax-coated pen, in a house that’s currently on fire.
Also, Emilia Pérez is mid as fuck.
So yes, I’m Still Here is indeed a nutritious and progressive film, but it’s one that earns its accolades ten times over. At 137 minutes in length, it still manages to fly by. The material is difficult, to be sure, but you’d be hard pressed to find a film with a more urgent, coherent message about the weaponization of dignity in times of intense oppression. Despite being set mostly in 1971, it couldn’t be more suited to 2025, at least here in America, where an oligarchic kleptocracy led by a bloviating, senile buffoon and his sycophantic Bond villain butt buddy is taking form.
Fernanda Torres gives the performance of a lifetime as Eunice Paiva. Her husband, former congressman Rubens Paiva (Selton Mello) has recently returned home after six years of self-imposed exile beginning when his tenure was revoked following the 1964 coup d’état against Brazilian President João Goulart. His current activities are kept private from his family (presumably for their safety), but it’s understood that alongside his civilian life, he’s assisting others who stand against the current military dictatorship. This, naturally, does not sit well with the powers that be, and soon Rubens is taken away from his home, destination untold.
The bulk of the film follows Eunice’s thankless dual responsibilities. She must keep her family safe while also advocating for the return of her husband, and doing so without creating such a stink that she also gets “disappeared.” It’s a remarkable tale acted to perfection by Torres and a large ensemble of actors portraying her children and friends (many of whom are perfectly recast and perfectly performed across the film’s pair of postscripts — one in which Fernanda Montenegro, Torres’ real life mother and fellow Oscar nominee, steps in to play an elder Eunice to great effect).
Director Walter Salles shoots Rio in a way that captures its own dual nature. The shoreline and its surrounding architecture are stunning beyond words, yet as military vehicles roll through the streets, and stray dogs scramble for safety, the underbelly of the region is also seen. The Paiva family are undoubtedly of the upper crust, and only just outside their insular wealth exists the very visible lower class. The film avoids making a judgment call on our protagonist’s wealth, but is smart to keep the air of poverty visible within the periphery. If anyone has the means and ability to fight back against injustice, it’s Eunice Paiva, yet what she has, at least materially, isn’t nearly enough. Those below her in social standing are, to put it simply, quite fucked.
What she does have, and what many without material wealth also have, is her own pride and dignity. Even without a pot to piss in, everybody on the planet has the ability to self-advocate, and I’m Still Here is a firm reminder to never just lay down and die in the face of oppression. One scene stands out in my mind: Eunice and her family pose for a photo spread which will accompany an article about the family’s plight. The photographer requests that they adopt sullen faces in order to sell the tone of the piece, but Eunice refuses. Her family will smile, goddamnit. The oppressors will not take away their joy.
One of the more notable aesthetic choices is the soundtrack. Warren Ellis’ score does the job of highlighting the film’s emotional structure while a smorgasbord of needle drops from the era help to highlight the cultural/countercultural flavor of the time, while also serving to delineate the different social profiles across multiple generations of the Paiva family. When their eldest is on the cusp of leaving for college in London, Eunice and Ruben express concern about her potential to get into activism, and subsequently, into trouble. Of course they want to keep their daughter safe, but their own progressive ideals have been proudly passed down. So much of this particular subplot is drawn by the music choices. The soundtrack is one of remarkable effectiveness at saying what can’t be said without broad exposition. It’s almost refreshing to see needle drops employed so intentionally, and not just as novelty.
I could go on forever about this wonderful piece of cinema, but it’s best to let the film work its magic on you. I admittedly had zero cultural context for this story, but came out of it with a deeper understanding of this period in Brazilian history than even a documentary could have likely provided. By giving a human face to multiple levels of society at the time, it becomes easier to draw parallels to contemporary displays of the human capacity for both kindness and cruelty. At a time where many of us are feeling beaten down, it’s nice to be reminded that the battle is never over — that good can triumph over evil.
That cybertrucks and MAGA hats make you look like the worst kind of dork.
I’m Still Here is an essential cinematic experience. It’s a prestige film that plays simultaneously like a thriller and a family drama, chock full of awards-worthy performances, all set to an incredible soundtrack that bolsters the setting and elevates the thematic and historical heft. And if I weren’t so ride or die for The Substance, I’d be rooting for a Fernanda Torres win for Best Actress. Her performance is an all-timer.
Directed by Walter Salles
Written by Murilo Hauser, Heitor Lorega, based on the book by Marcelo Rubens Paiva
Starring Fernanda Torres, Fernanda Montenegro, Shelton Mello, Valentina Herszage
Rated PG-13, 137 minutes
