There was an audible gasp at this year's Golden Globe Awards ceremony, when the winner for Best Actress Drama was announced as Fernanda Torres. It was an upset since Nicole Kidman or Angelina Jolie were predicted the likely victors.
But anyone who's seen Torres in the Brazilian film "I'm Still Here," (Sony Pictures Classics) wouldn't be surprised, because she truly deserved the award, giving perhaps the best performance of any actor in 2024.
Shortlisted as Brazil's nominee in the Oscar Best International Feature category, this intense, personal, political film, is directed by veteran Walter Salles ("Motorcycle Diaries," "Central Station"). Based on true events that occurred in 1971 with repercussive effects for almost 50 years, this domestic drama (rather than a thriller) acts as a metaphor for the country's trauma caused by the repressive military dictatorship which ruled Brazil from 1964 to 1985.
Secret aid
It's Christmas 1970 and we're introduced to an upper-middle-class beachfront household in Rio de Janeiro. An architect and former congressman, Rubens Paiva (Selton Mello), lives with his wife Eunice (Torres) and five children in a seemingly happy life. He has recently returned to Brazil after a six-year self-exile following criticism of the military government.
Unbeknownst to Eunice, he's secretly helping dissidents, coordinating package drop-offs, organizing safe houses, and assisting regime opponents. Their home was a cosmopolitan gathering place for intellectuals and artists brimming with culture.
Salles, the son of a diplomat, remembered fondly visiting their home numerous times as a child, one reason why he wanted to make this film and recreate their lives as a memorial. The source material is the memoir written by Marcelo Paiva, Rubens's son.
They are preparing to send their oldest daughter to London to stay with friends, when in a shattering scene, plain-clothed army officials arrive to take Rubens for routine questioning, but he will never be seen again. Guards are posted so no one can leave or enter.
When Eunice seeks answers about her husband, she and her 15-year-old daughter are taken for interrogation with hoods put over their heads. Eunice is detained (and intimidated) for 12 days forced to look through books of photos to identify people opposed by the state. She can hear the screams of other prisoners through the walls.
Back home she starts seeking answers about what has happened to her "disappeared" husband. The government claims he escaped and they have no idea about his whereabouts.
They deny he was even arrested. Eunice feels helpless since she can't even cash checks at the bank without her husband's signature. A defining moment occurs when she asks the maid to find the key for their never-used locked front gate, signifying the end of a carefree era. They are under constant surveillance.
Fearing the worst, but getting neither an authoritative answer or any kind of closure, and wanting to keep her family intact, she decides to sell their home and move to Sao Paulo. At age 48 the formidable Eunice obtains her law degree, specializes in human and indigenous rights, all the while pressing the government about her husband's fate. She documents every aspect of his case and urges foreign journalists to tell Rubens's story.
Silencio
The movie jumps to 1996, when Eunice receives an official death certificate for her husband from the now democratic Brazilian government. A poignant postscript follows in 2014 with a now elderly Eunice (played by Torres's mother Fernanda Montenegro, the first Brazilian actress to be Oscar-nominated for "Central Station"), in the throes of Alzheimer's disease, cared for by her family, but she hasn't forgotten Rubens.
The film doesn't focus on the martyred Rubens, but on the gritty Eunice, showing how what happened to the families of the government's victims, was a kind of psychological torture from not knowing the truth of what happened to their loved ones, along with the negative impact of denial and silence.
What makes Eunice a heroine is her ability to create a type of normalcy despite the tumult and lack of resolution. She refuses to be defeated or cow-towed. She wants her family to continue despite the repression, but in her quiet courage wants to change the country, so no one else experiences what she has undergone.
The message of this gripping film is we should never forget the atrocities or the lies. One should always commit to finding the truth of what actually happened. Oppression and intolerance should never be allowed to win. However, maintaining a family of love, keeping memories alive, and creating a safe haven in spite of the fear, paranoia, and surveillance, is a form of resistance. Community and solidarity, based on love, may be the best means to withstand repression.
Layered performance
This defiance is symbolized by the family photographs (in which they cheer "Ditch the Dictators") taken through the years, always with smiling faces, in spite of the dissent they are facing and a crisis with no decisive rectification. Despite eventually identifying the five people responsible for murdering Rubens, they have never been prosecuted. Nor has any of the members of Brazil's military dictatorship been held accountable for their tortures or murders.
Torres, in her restrained manner, trying to be present for the children, simultaneously reveals the silent grief and internal angst she's undergoing. It's a constant double-layered performance expressing all these conflicting emotions, but especially a sense of hope and resilience notwithstanding the pain and loss.
She emotes feelings even when she's saying or doing nothing. Torres is worthy of an Oscar nomination, which might serve as her sole accolade, since only two actresses in the 96-year-old Academy Awards history, have won for foreign language performances (Sophia Loren and Marion Cotillard). With any justice, Torres should be the third recipient.
This sorrowful film could serve as a warning to governments who lie, are intolerant of opposition, scapegoat marginalized groups, and try to erase or rewrite history. Movies remind us never to forget and few have accomplished that task so nobly and with such harrowing devastation as "I'm Still Here."
"I'm Still Here" screens at AMC Kabuki 8 starting January 23.
www.sonyclassics.com
Never miss a story! Keep up to date on the latest news, arts, politics, entertainment, and nightlife.
Sign up for the Bay Area Reporter's free weekday email newsletter. You'll receive our newsletters and special offers from our community partners.
Support California's largest LGBTQ newsroom. Your one-time, monthly, or annual contribution advocates for LGBTQ communities. Amplify a trusted voice providing news, information, and cultural coverage to all members of our community, regardless of their ability to pay -- Donate today!