The Paivas are a liberal middle-class household in sun-splashed Rio de Janeiro, generally joyous in the way of all happy families. They like laughing and dancing and playing volleyball by the sea. But it’s the early 1970s; Brazil is under military rule and anyone deemed a threat risks immediate arrest. When the Paivas (mum, dad, five kids) huddle together for a photo on the beach it’s a safe bet that what they are recording is the end of an era.
Possibly director Walter Salles makes a little too much of the family’s good cheer, emphasising the sunshine so that we feel more acutely the cold rain when it falls. The Brazilian film-maker knew the Paivas as a child and therefore his fact-based account of their plight is understandably compromised and prone to a streak of sentimentality. Nonetheless, I’m Still Here (which is emphatically not to be confused with the spoof Joaquin Phoenix documentary of the same name) remains a sombre, heartfelt drama about the nation’s disappeared. Incredibly, it’s Salles’s first dramatic feature since 2012’s On the Road. The man has been missed, although not as much as some others.
Brazilian actor Selton Mello initially takes centre stage as Rubens Paiva, a former Labour Party congressman who is active in the underground opposition, organising safe houses and briefing foreign journalists. In the grand scheme of things his crimes aren’t so great, but the country runs on fear and everyone is a suspect. The Paivas discuss getting out, but that’s a big step, and to what end? Most likely, says Rubens, this particular storm will blow through.
The central abduction scene superbly shows the way in which eternal horror can invade every domesticity - not bursting upon it like a B-movie monster but sidling in with a faintly apologetic air. The oblivious children continue clumping up and down the stairs, while three goons loiter in the kitchen, not quite sure where to put themselves. They explain that Rubens is needed for a few hours at most. Rubens’ wife Eunice (Fernanda Torres) asks them if they’ve had any lunch.
Once Rubens has been whisked away for questioning, it is Eunice’s turn to step to the front. Torres gives a terrific, layered performance as the Paivas’ Mother Courage, straining to keep the household ticking over and constantly fighting for her husband’s return – or, failing that, official acknowledgement of his death. It’s not Torres’s fault that the drama loses some of its shape and velocity in the second half, because it’s hard to sustain the suspense around an absence and difficult to tell a tale that has no decisive resolution. Yet it is here perhaps that Salles’s closeness to the Paivas pays off. He cares for these people and makes us care for them, too.
Based on the book by Rubens and Eunice’s son Marcelo, I’m Still Here opens to the sight of checkpoints and army lorries and from there proceeds to follow its ill-starred family down the years, all the way to a lovely, moving coda in 2014. The Paivas continue to gather for photos and try to find enjoyment where they can. When a visiting news photographer asks them to look sad for the camera, they not only refuse, they can barely contain their amusement. Salles’s imperfect, hobbled film tells us that hope springs eternal and that joy is a given and that most happy families will find a way to survive.
• I’m Still Here screened at the Venice film festival.
