A house of memories: Walter Salles’ poignant journey through Brazil’s past
A home filled with life
There was something unforgettable about the Paiva family’s house in Rio de Janeiro. Nestled just a few blocks from the beach, it was a sanctuary of open doors, unlocked gates, and windows that welcomed the sunlight and ocean breezes. The house was alive with music, dancing, parties, and intellectual debates. But in 1971, this vibrant home was shattered when Rubens Paiva, a former leftist congressman turned engineer, was taken away by authorities. His interrogation, torture, and eventual murder left his wife Eunice and their five children in a state of despair, searching for answers in a country seven years into a military dictatorship that would last another 14 years.
A filmmaker’s personal connection
Walter Salles, who visited the Paiva family as a teenager, recalls the vitality of their home. “There was such a vitality to the house. It was a place we all wanted to drift through,” he says. The sudden transformation of the house into a guarded, closed-off space was a shock that stayed with him. Salles grew up to become one of Brazil’s most acclaimed filmmakers, often exploring his country’s tumultuous journey towards democracy in films like “Central Station.” However, his latest work, “I’m Still Here,” is perhaps his most personal project yet. The film, which documents the harrowing period in the lives of the Paiva family, debuted to critical acclaim at the Venice Film Festival and is set to screen at the Toronto Film Festival before its domestic release by Sony Pictures Classics this fall.
A subtle approach to storytelling
Despite the explosive subject matter, Salles chose an understated approach to the film’s production. He avoided close-ups and dramatic camera moves, aiming for a truthful portrayal rather than amplifying emotions. “I wasn’t trying to amplify emotions,” he explains. “I wanted to be truthful.” The film takes its time to depict the family’s life before Rubens’ disappearance, showing summer days at the beach, evenings at the ice cream shop, and social gatherings where Eunice’s famous soufflés were in demand. “You had to allow the life to breathe in,” Salles says. “In the beginning, I want to invite you to be sensorially in a family.”
The impact of loss
The goal was to highlight the joy that was extinguished when Rubens was “disappeared.” To help the actors connect with their characters’ emotional states, Salles shot the film chronologically. This approach, though logistically challenging, allowed the actors to experience the story’s progression naturally. “It allowed me to get into my character’s skin,” says Fernanda Torres, who plays Eunice. “You had this sunny part of the movie with children and parties and friends. Then it’s all taken away, and you are filled with this sense of loss. I felt like I, Fernanda, had experienced that.”
Salles encouraged Torres to underplay Eunice’s grief and anxiety, reminding her that her character needed to stay strong for her young children. “She remains in silence,” Torres says. “She cannot just panic. She doesn’t have time for self-pity. But there’s something profound about her actions. When something violent was happening to her, she stayed calm. She smiled. She didn’t show she was suffering.”
Economic and emotional turmoil
The Paiva family, initially comfortably middle class, faced economic uncertainty after Rubens’ disappearance. Without a death certificate, Eunice had no access to the family’s money and was forced to sell everything and start over. She went back to school and became a human rights attorney. “Her journey blended with the journey of Brazil as it sought to redefine itself,” Salles says.
A reflection on the present
The seven years Salles spent working on the script and film coincided with significant political changes in Brazil. During this period, Jair Bolsonaro, a right-wing aspiring strongman, won the presidency, only to lose office in a tight contest four years later against Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva. In scenes reminiscent of the January 6 riots in the United States, Bolsonaro’s supporters stormed Brazilian government buildings, fueled by his claims of election fraud.
“We started this project thinking that we were retelling a story from the past, but we came to realize that it was also a reflection on our present,” Salles says. “We have to remind ourselves of what happened. Cinema can be a powerful instrument to push against those forces — to help us avoid oblivion. A country without memory is a country without a future.”
Explore more
For those interested in diving deeper into the story, you can watch the trailer for I’m Still Here and explore more about the film. This poignant narrative serves as a reminder of the resilience of the human spirit and the importance of remembering our past to shape a better future.