I’m Still Here Review: Fernanda Torres’s Quietly Affecting Performance Dominates Walter Salles’s Oscar-Winning Political Drama

If there are significant things worth mentioning about I’m Still Here, it would be Walter Salles’s Brazilian film which successfully defied all odds after clinching the Oscar for Best International Feature Film at the recent 97th Academy Awards over the initially odd-on favourite (but frankly, overrated) Emilia Pérez. The other would be Fernanda Torres, who won the Golden Globes for Best Actress but lost the Oscar to Mikey Madison for Anora.

Torres — whose mother, Fernanda Montenegro, best known for her role in Salles’s Oscar-nominated Central Station appears in a small role as the older Eunice — is no doubt the heart and soul of Salles’s adaptation of Marcelo Rubens Paiva’s 2015 memoir Ainda Estou Aqui, who plays Eunice Paiva, the wife to former congressman-turned-civil engineer Rubens (Selton Mello). They have five children including Marcelo (Guilherme Silveira), Vera (Valentina Herszage), Eliana (Luiza Kosovski), Nalu (Barbara Luz) and Maria (Cora Mora).

Working from Murilo Hauser and Heitor Lorega’s adapted screenplay, the story takes its time establishing the Paiva family, who live happily in a beachside residence in 1970s Rio de Janeiro. Amidst their country’s unfavorable political turmoil, things seem to be normal for the Paiva family as they share laughter, hosting parties and such with their friends. These mundane and uneventful moments may look as if Salles is on auto-pilot here and resting on his laurels here by just letting his movie flow as it is.

But it does help to establish the stark contrast later on, particularly when a group of men shows up at the door on a military raid taking Rubens away for questioning. The once-idyllic and safe haven at the comfort of the Paiva’s family home has turned into a prison as Eunice and her children are placed under house arrest.

Here, Salles isn’t interested in showing us explicitly on what really happens to Rubens, who promises one of his daughters that he’ll “be back soon” except he doesn’t. Day after day, night after night have passed with no sign of Rubens returning home, leaving Eunice in charge of taking care of their family and making sure everything is alright. One thing I like about Torres’s performance is her subtle way of maintaining composure even with the men who have invaded their house. If that’s not enough, the nightmare continues as Eunice and one of her daughters are being led into a car with bags over their heads before taking them to a military prison.

From there, we see Eunice is subjected to questioning and imprisoned for a long period in the confines of a dark cell. Credit goes to Salles for bringing out the best in Torres’s remarkable performance, where her quiet affection and varied emotion are delicately displayed without resorting to histrionics or even pronounced, yet showy acting style.

There’s one scene I’m particularly admiring the most, where after a period of captivity, Eunice is finally released from prison and returns home to take a long shower. There’s nothing titillating about this moment as we see her scrubbing away the dirt while letting the shower water rain down all over her body, indicating the physical and emotional vulnerabilities that she is forced to go through during her time in the military prison.

Such an emotionally penetrating performance in a less-is-more approach isn’t easy to pull off but Torres handles her role so effectively that it’s no wonder she deserves all the accolades. She’s the very reason that keeps me watching the movie but apart from Salles’s deliberate direction, I can’t help but feel I’m Still Here is strangely muted in places. This is especially true with Salles’s insistence on overly restraining the movie’s otherwise compelling subject matter revolving around the political angle of its military dictatorship for his own good. If it wasn’t for Torres’s tour de force performance, who single-handedly elevated the movie, I’m Still Here would have been easily labelled as a missed opportunity.