I'm Still Here 2010

In 1970, Rio de Janeiro is gripped by a tightening military dictatorship, and a family trying to find moments of ordinary life within the storm. Eunice Paiva and her children—Marcelo, Vera, Eliana, Nalu, and Maria Beatriz (Babiu)—welcome a stray dog they name Pimpao, a small beacon of warmth that they decide to keep despite knowing it might provoke trouble at home. The household’s rhythm centers on Eunice’s quiet strength and the father’s shadow: Rubens, a former congressman who lost his seat after the 1964 coup and has since drifted into self-imposed exile. The children grow up amid the tension of a country in flux, each day a balance between schoolyard innocence and a society that demands silence.

As the family navigates the era’s fear, Vera’s out-of-town plans become a practical thread of escape. A Swiss ambassador’s kidnapping intensifies the climate of suspicion, and Rubens quietly contemplates leaving Brazil for safety. Vera is sent to London to verify a shelter’s legitimacy, a decision that underscores how the family tries to preserve dignity in a world that may deny it. Months pass, and Vera’s letters and a simple roll of super-8 film become fragile connections to a world beyond instability.

Then a visit changes everything. Dr. Schneider and a group of armed men arrive at the Paiva home, pressing Rubens for a deposition and sealing a chapter the family cannot yet name. Eunice senses the danger, as Rubens disappears from their life, and the house fills with unspoken questions. In the aftermath, Eunice and Eliana face interrogation—Eunice is hooded and questioned about Rubens’ supposed ties to communism, while Eliana endures the strain of the process. Eunice is imprisoned for days, and Eliana returns shattered, bearing witness to cruelty that outruns explanation. The trauma reshapes the family’s perception of safety and binds them more tightly in their shared fear.

Determined not to surrender, Eunice connects with Rubens’ fellow expatriates and tries to press the case into public sight. She returns to the station, only to be met with official denial and insufficient proof of Rubens’ arrest. A teacher named Martha—seen in a photograph with Rubens—offers a glimmer of complicity and risk: she shares that she too was taken, but fears retaliation if she speaks out. Meanwhile, Eunice questions Boca, a longtime friend and colleague, seeking any thread that might explain Rubens’ fate. The household’s sorrow deepens when Pimpao dies in a road accident, a cruel reminder of the fragility of life during a time of fear.

News, letters, and small glimpses of truth accumulate. Martha confesses that Rubens’ name did arise in her own imprisonment, and Vera eventually returns from London, bringing a complicated sense of reunion and unanswered questions. A journalist captures a family portrait—smiles strained by grief and the weight of the unknown—as Eunice presses for clarity about Rubens’ disappearance and death. Faced with the unbearable, Eunice makes a decisive plan: she will pursue education and legal work to fight for those losing their land to forced repossession and to seek justice in a country that rarely offers it.

By 1996, Eunice has become a lawyer, her career a testament to endurance and reform. Marcelo and Babiu grow into adults, and the family goes to court to receive Rubens’ death certificate. Outside, reporters seek a sense of closure as Eunice reflects on the long road she has walked. The memory of Rubens remains a thread through time, sustaining her in public life and private grief.

Years later, in 2014, the family gathers in São Paulo. The elder Eunice, now living with Alzheimer’s, watches the news and encounters a report confirming that Rubens—along with many others—was murdered by the military regime, with his body never recovered. The revelation stirs a flood of memories that the mind sometimes refuses to quiet. A final family photo moment—Eunice at the center—feels like a quiet act of defiance and continuity, a living image of a life driven by remembrance and pursuit of truth.

The closing text ties the threads together: Rubens Paiva was murdered by the Brazilian government, and those involved were never brought to justice. Eunice’s life after those years is defined by steadfast dedication to her work as a lawyer and activist, a relentless search for answers that continued until her death in 2018. Across decades, the family’s story becomes a record of resilience—how a mother’s unwavering resolve can illuminate the most painful chapters of history, and how memory, courage, and justice can persist long after the headlines fade.