John Powers

It's one measure of Latin America's arduous history that it spawns so many books and movies about dictatorship. Over the years, I've been through scads of them, from novels by Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Mario Vargas Llosa to the landmark documentaries of Patricio Guzman to Hollywood thrillers like Missing and Under Fire. What they share is the awareness that history hurts.

It's one measure of Latin America's arduous history that it spawns so many books and movies about dictatorship. Over the years, I've been through scads of them, from novels by Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Mario Vargas Llosa to the landmark documentaries of Patricio Guzman to Hollywood thrillers like Missing and Under Fire. What they share is the awareness that history hurts.

It's one measure of Latin America's arduous history that it spawns so many books and movies about dictatorship. Over the years, I've been through scads of them, from novels by Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Mario Vargas Llosa to the landmark documentaries of Patricio Guzman to Hollywood thrillers like Missing and Under Fire. What they share is the awareness that history hurts.

Few films have shown this with more delicate intelligence than I'm Still Here, a moving new drama set during Brazil's military dictatorship that began with an American-backed coup in 1964 and ended in 1985. Based on a memoir by Marcelo Rubens Paiva, Walter Salas's movie is no political tract or manipulative tearjerker, although it may make you cry.

Few films have shown this with more delicate intelligence than I'm Still Here, a moving new drama set during Brazil's military dictatorship that began with an American-backed coup in 1964 and ended in 1985. Based on a memoir by Marcelo Rubens Paiva, Walter Salas's movie is no political tract or manipulative tearjerker, although it may make you cry.

Few films have shown this with more delicate intelligence than I'm Still Here, a moving new drama set during Brazil's military dictatorship that began with an American-backed coup in 1964 and ended in 1985. Based on a memoir by Marcelo Rubens Paiva, Walter Salas's movie is no political tract or manipulative tearjerker, although it may make you cry.

Exploring the dictatorship indirectly, I'm Still Here tells the heroic true story of a wife and mother who steers her family through the rapids of tyranny. The story begins idyllically on Ipanema Beach in 1970, when we first meet the Paiva family. The father is Rubens, played with easy charm by Sultan Melo, a warm-hearted man who was a congressman before the coup.

Exploring the dictatorship indirectly, I'm Still Here tells the heroic true story of a wife and mother who steers her family through the rapids of tyranny. The story begins idyllically on Ipanema Beach in 1970, when we first meet the Paiva family. The father is Rubens, played with easy charm by Sultan Melo, a warm-hearted man who was a congressman before the coup.

Exploring the dictatorship indirectly, I'm Still Here tells the heroic true story of a wife and mother who steers her family through the rapids of tyranny. The story begins idyllically on Ipanema Beach in 1970, when we first meet the Paiva family. The father is Rubens, played with easy charm by Sultan Melo, a warm-hearted man who was a congressman before the coup.

And by Eunice, that's Fernanda Torres, a rather traditional-seeming wife who bakes great soufflés and wrangles their five high-energy children. Theirs is a happy upper-middle-class family whose home is a kind of Eden, complete with a view of the beach.

And by Eunice, that's Fernanda Torres, a rather traditional-seeming wife who bakes great soufflés and wrangles their five high-energy children. Theirs is a happy upper-middle-class family whose home is a kind of Eden, complete with a view of the beach.

And by Eunice, that's Fernanda Torres, a rather traditional-seeming wife who bakes great soufflés and wrangles their five high-energy children. Theirs is a happy upper-middle-class family whose home is a kind of Eden, complete with a view of the beach.

Buzzing with openness to friends, to ideas, to laughter, to music —the movie's soundtrack is fabulous— their house is Brazil, as we might dream of it being. Yet such openness is precisely what the junta mistrusts. It tortures or disappears anyone it considers a threat to its notion of an orderly, anti-communist society.

Buzzing with openness to friends, to ideas, to laughter, to music —the movie's soundtrack is fabulous— their house is Brazil, as we might dream of it being. Yet such openness is precisely what the junta mistrusts. It tortures or disappears anyone it considers a threat to its notion of an orderly, anti-communist society.

Buzzing with openness to friends, to ideas, to laughter, to music —the movie's soundtrack is fabulous— their house is Brazil, as we might dream of it being. Yet such openness is precisely what the junta mistrusts. It tortures or disappears anyone it considers a threat to its notion of an orderly, anti-communist society.

Even as the family dances, plays foosball, and amiably bickers, we await the dreaded knock on the door. It comes. Rubens is taken away for questioning, security men occupy the house, and Eunice herself is called in for a nasty interrogation. Rubens' disappearance is the turning point in Eunice's life.

Even as the family dances, plays foosball, and amiably bickers, we await the dreaded knock on the door. It comes. Rubens is taken away for questioning, security men occupy the house, and Eunice herself is called in for a nasty interrogation. Rubens' disappearance is the turning point in Eunice's life.

Even as the family dances, plays foosball, and amiably bickers, we await the dreaded knock on the door. It comes. Rubens is taken away for questioning, security men occupy the house, and Eunice herself is called in for a nasty interrogation. Rubens' disappearance is the turning point in Eunice's life.

Over the next months, in fact the next decades, she transforms her practical maternal virtues into something mighty. Channeling her grief, she becomes a stronger, tougher, wiser person who protects her kids, digs into the cruel facts of her husband's fate, and learns to fight for other people's rights as well.

Over the next months, in fact the next decades, she transforms her practical maternal virtues into something mighty. Channeling her grief, she becomes a stronger, tougher, wiser person who protects her kids, digs into the cruel facts of her husband's fate, and learns to fight for other people's rights as well.