Adapted from the 2015 memoir of Marcelo Rubens Paiva, I’m Still Here (Ainda Estou Aqui ) is a film about family and politics. But it stands out thanks to its unconventional approach to biopic, transcending culture and language to make a notable splash on the international stage after riling the far-right in its home country.

It’s the early 1970s, and Brazil is under military dictatorship. Newly returned to Rio de Janeiro, the Peiva family, led by former congressman Rubens Peina (Selton Mello), attempts to ride out the crackdowns as their friends and allies start to flee. 

The family is rocked when Rubens is taken in for questioning and never returns. With authoritarian rule tightening, Rubens’ wife, Eunice (Fernanda Torres), keeps her family of five children together as they forge a new future and refuse to bow to the authoritarian threat surrounding them.

I’m Still Here is packed with engaging performances. A naturalistic opening act brilliantly introduces us to the five children who are the film’s engine of hope and motivation. Then there are the parents, a warm and optimistic turn from Mello as Rubens and a display of extraordinary steel and strength from Torres as Eunice.

Torres is spectacular: a simmering stoic wick of calm awareness running through the film. Whether lightly questioning her friends, faced with terrifying interrogation, or floating alone in the Atlantic, her quiet shake of hidden rage and fear seals the film’s emotion. 

That emotion is carefully built up as we’re invited into the Peiva house to spend time with her family. The mechanics of the political system, whether ruling or insurrectionary, are mostly kept to the periphery. For the first third, the military grip is only felt through a brutal police blockade at the start, then glimpses of a helicopter or a van of troops careering past while an important photograph is taken on the Rio beach. 

Like his family, we’re not entirely clear what Rubens may have been up to. Aside from seeing the odd furtive envelope and courier, we only hear about his activities as Eunice does. Whatever her thoughts or suspicions about her husband aren’t the point, the injustice and cruelty of his disappearance are. After spending so much time with the family before Rubens disappears, time contracts during the hanging horror of his failure to return. Leaning heavily on the strength of the family unit as mapped out at the front of the movie and now led through almost unnavigable waters by Eunice is very effective.

It’s a daring and intelligent step for a biopic. I’m Still Here could have sunk into the dark interior of authoritarian rule as Torres and her daughter are detained. But it’s conveying that absence and uncertainty that’s important. Only the base strokes are needed to demonstrate Eunice’s return to academia and her family’s achievement after tragedy in the hands of the indomitable Torres and director Walter Salles. 

The camera often hangs on the family members (particularly on Torres’ Eunice), but it also stunningly captures the Brazilian cityscapes that are both home and prison, safety and terror. Like the characters we’re invested in, the viewer is never quite sure where we are or what’s around us.

​​I can’t speak for Murilo Hauser and Heitor Lorega’s adaptation of Paiva’s memoir, but I can only believe it’s a masterful adaptation, given its rewarding structural choices. The result is a deftly epic film in terms of time, humanity and the stunning country of Brazil.