By M. Faust

An Oscar nominee for Best Feature, Best Actress and Best International Feature, the Brazilian drama I’m Still Here is set in 1970, six years into the military dictatorship that controlled that country until 1985. It is generally devoid of political context, but that’s OK: has there ever been a good military dictatorship? 

When I jotted that last remark down in my notebook, I was being moderately facetious — surely we all agree that military dictatorships are always bad? Wrong again, Faust. Filmmaker Walter Salles, a Brazillian native whose formidable resume includes Central Station, City of God, The Motorcycle Diaries, On the Road and Blindness, came out of semi-retirement to make this movie. That was in the face of Brazil’s former president Jair Bolsonaro, who not only sings the praises of this era but even tried to reinstall military rule, plotting a coup to take over the country after he lost the last election to Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva.

Even more moderate Brazillians have chosen to sweep the memory of those days under the rug as too painful to confront. The movie might well have opened with that famous quote from George Santayana: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Or Faulkner: “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”

Deliberately paced and non-sensationalistic, I’m Still There opens by introducing us to the Paiva family, who lead a comfortable middle-class life near Rio de Janeiro’ Ipanema Beach (yes, the one where the girl in the song goes walking).

The house is always so filled with friends and relatives that it takes a while before we can narrow the family proper down to father Rubens (Selton Mello), an engineer; mom Eunice (Oscar nominee Fernanda Torres, tremendously moving); and five teenaged kids. Despite the political situation in the country, Mom’s biggest worry is that her daughters who love to dance to Serge Gainsbourg’s “Je t’aime…moi non plus” might learn what the words mean. 

That all changes when men come to the house one morning and take Rubens away. They are not wearing uniforms; they do not present papers. But Rubens, who was a congressman before the coup d’état, goes peacefully with them, presumably to protect his family. Three of the men stay in the house to prevent anyone from leaving. Of course Eunice is not happy about this, but she takes them at their word that Rubens will be back soon, and so says nothing to alarm her kids. 

But Rubens does not return, and after a day Eunice and one of her daughters are taken away as well. 

Incidents of murder and torture by the military in this era are numerous and well documented. I’m Still There does not ask you to look at any of that, at least not the physical torture. Based on a true story (it was adapted from a best-selling memoir written by son Marcelo Paiva, a childhood friend of Salles), it is more concerned with the psychological forms of torture committed on the population. You might argue whether the endless pain of not knowing what happened to your loved one is intended by the government or is collateral damage. And you can try to decide which is more despicable. (In the film’s most painful irony, Eunice decides to lie to her children about what she learns, hoping to spare them pain but more likely dragging that pain out.) 

It always seems to me portentous to call a movie “important.” But in the case of this movie, at this troubled time in history, I will. 

***

If you’ve ever thought that you might like to escape the modern world and move to Ireland to run a sheep ranch, Bring Them Down is the movie to disabuse you of that idea. 

In West Ireland, grazing rights to a hill are shared by Michael (Christopher Abbot) and Gary (Paul Ready), scions of families who have been feuding for generations, at least. The cast of unhappy souls includes Michael’s father Ray (Colm Meaney), who can no longer walk due to bad knees; Gary’s son Jack (Barry Keoghan, who really needs to find a role as a nice guy for a change); and Gary’s wife Caroline (Nora-Jane Noone), who is either Michael’s sister or ex-girlfriend — it’s one of a few things that the film is unclear about. 

After a prologue showing a tragic incident in Michael’s past, the story plays out over a period of several days in which one bad decision quickly spirals out of proportion. The two halves of the film show the story from the perspectives of each family, going back in time at the halfway mark. (I mention this because it wasn’t clear to me for a while.) 

Debuting writer-director Christopher Andrews has a good eye for the beauty of his locations and gets strong performances from his cast. The script plays like Greek tragedy by way of the Old Testament, or perhaps vice-versa.

I was engrossed by it at all points but can’t entirely recommend it for two reasons. One is that the ending resolves nothing: it leaves you feeling that this feud will continue into eternity.

The second is a gruesome scene of animal violence that to which the viewer is subjected twice: we first see one character experience it after it has happened, and later we see it happening. It is not graphic — by no means am I accusing the filmmakers of mistreating animals — but it was still more than I could bear to watch. I had the opportunity of fast forwarding through the online screener I watched. Those of you watching in a theater will only be able to leave the room for a few minutes.