18/43
My husband is in danger!
Narrative
A mother is forced to reinvent herself when her family’s life is shattered by an arbitrary act of violence during the tightening of a military dictatorship in Brazil in 1971. Selected by the Brazilian Academy of Cinema to compete for Best International Feature Film at the 2025 Academy Awards. Eunice Paiva: Martha, you have to help me. Martha: Everyone is in danger, Eunice. Featured in Mais Você: Episode dated December 3, 2024 (2024).
A Festa do Santo Reis Written by Léo Maia (as Marcio Leonardo) Performed by Tim Maia
Ainda Estou Aqui’s greatest strength lies in its use of memory not as a passive recollection of the past but as an act of resistance to preserve the dignity and identity of those who have been brutally silenced. Walter Salles, by revealing the faces, names and humanity of those whose lives were interrupted by the dictatorship, transforms memory into a manifesto for justice. From the beginning, we see Selton Mello in a sensitive and powerful performance, almost like a breath of tenderness before the storm. He gives life to a loving father, a man who soon becomes the epicenter of a pain that seeps into every corner of the house. What was once a bright house, full of laughter and ordinary days, is now wrapped in drawn curtains, with the constant presence of strangers and the watchful gaze of military officers.
Walter Salles transforms the absence of Rubens Paiva into an invisible character, while the family begins to live a routine stifled by external fear
And it is Fernanda Torres who gives body and soul to this story; she embodies the living resistance, something that the dictatorship could never take away: the fierce will of a woman to rebuild what was destroyed, to keep alive the flame of a history that belongs to her. Eunice Paiva, faced with the loss of her husband, the invisible violence of silence, the systematic erasure of a life, finds strength in the rubble. Fernanda portrays her as a woman who, in her silent struggle, refuses to let horror prevail over memory, to let emptiness triumph over love. Eunice Paiva is a character who both moves and disturbs, because as spectators we remain attentive, we expect dramatic outbursts, unrestrained tears, grandiose gestures that melodrama has accustomed us to seeing – but Eunice’s pain does not manifest itself in this way. It is there, deeply buried, engraved in her soul, supported by a quiet strength that does not let it overflow, out of love for her children.
The first movement of her eyes, and I was devastated
It is a pain that exists without fanfare, that gnaws without screaming, and this restraint makes it all the more devastating. The scene where Fernanda eats ice cream with her daughters, trying to project a happiness that no longer exists, is magnificent. At the end of the film, when I was already upset, the epilogue delivers Fernanda Montenegro to us. What Montenegro conveys in that moment, without a word, is masterful. She brings to the screen the strength of a woman who refuses to let the past fade, who keeps photos, newspaper clippings, dates and notes not only for herself, but to ensure that memory survives any attempt at erasure – even the erosion of her own Alzheimer’s disease.
Nothing in Ainda Estou Aqui is incidental or superfluous
The 35mm cinematography is delicately “Walterian,” poetic but raw, managing to be aesthetic without stealing the scene. The absence of a dramatic score is a bold and effective choice, trusting in the drama already present, which pulses in the pauses, glances and breaths. The sound design is punctuated by planes, gunshots and the distant rumble of military vehicles, hinting at the constant horror and invisible control imposed by the dictatorship. The editing is precise, respecting the rhythm of mourning without rushing, and the script – sensitive and powerful – allows the actors to shine, letting pain and love resonate through dialogues of precise intensity.