Winner of the Academy Award for Best International Feature Film, I’m Still Here arrives as a major point of convergence between Brazilian historical memory and international recognition. Directed by Walter Salles, the film revisits the years of Brazil’s military dictatorship (1964–1985), a period marked by censorship, repression, and forced disappearances that continue to shape the country’s collective consciousness. Rather than reconstructing history through events, the film focuses on its lingering aftermath.
| I’m Still Here | Movie Details |
|---|---|
| Country | Brazil |
| Year | 2024 |
| Genre | Drama, Political |
| Runtime | 135 min |
| Director | Walter Salles |
| Main Actors | Fernanda Torres, Selton Mello |
During the dictatorship, thousands of Brazilians were imprisoned, tortured, or disappeared under a regime that operated through fear and silence. I’m Still Here situates itself precisely within that silence. The film follows a family whose life is fractured by a forced disappearance, tracing not the moment of violence, but the decades-long uncertainty that follows. Absence becomes a permanent condition, woven into daily life.
Salles approaches this history from a deliberately intimate angle. Political violence is not depicted through confrontation or spectacle, but through its erosion of trust, stability, and certainty. The state remains largely offscreen, yet its presence is constant — felt in hesitation, interrupted routines, and the impossibility of closure. In doing so, the film mirrors how authoritarianism often survives in memory: indirectly, persistently, and unresolved.
At the center of the narrative is Fernanda Torres, whose performance embodies endurance rather than grief as rupture — a portrayal that earned her an Academy Award nomination and the Golden Globe. Her character does not collapse; she persists. This composure reflects a broader historical reality for many Brazilian families, particularly women, who were forced to carry the burden of memory, care, and survival in the absence of truth or justice.
The film’s international success — culminating in its Oscar win — resonates with Brazil’s ongoing struggle to confront its past. Unlike other countries, Brazil’s transition to democracy was marked by amnesty and limited accountability, leaving many crimes unacknowledged. I’m Still Here engages with this unresolved legacy, not through accusation, but through remembrance.
What ultimately defines the film is its refusal to offer reconciliation. There is no historical closure, no restorative ending. Memory is not redemptive; it is necessary. The act of remembering becomes political in itself — a way of resisting erasure in a country where forgetting has often been institutionalized.
I’m Still Here does not attempt to rewrite history. It insists, quietly and firmly, that history continues to live in those who remain — and that bearing witness is sometimes the only form of justice left.
