The Legacy Grief Leaves Behind

Annika Prickett

“Ainda Estou Aqui” is a haunting portrayal of love, loss, and the quiet resilience of loved ones left behind. Walter Salles’ 26th film is an intimate exploration of the Paiva family’s pain. Through the lens of the eldest daughter’s Super 8 camera, she documented familial memories serving as a meditation on the unrest and glimmers of joy Brazilians faced during the dictatorship of the ‘60s-'80s. 

The regime’s violence spared few, targeting leftists, intellectuals, and perceived communist threats. These people were labeled as “terrorists” or “subversives” to justify crimes against humanity, forced disappearances being their chief offense. Ambiguous loss is a profound sense of unresolved grief at the disappearance of something, or someone—think of your house, or your father, inexplicably going missing. It inflicts generational wounds—erasing memories without explanation, leaving families suspended in grief.

At the heart of the film is Eunice Paiva’s subtle strength. She shields her family, creating a fragile world of normalcy even as her sorrow threatens to consume her. Her protection is an act of resistance—refusing to let the regime steal her children’s innocence along with their father.

As their story unfolds, it’s evident that ambiguous loss is one of the cruelest weapons the dictatorship utilized. The absence of bodies, of certainty. The absence of justice. “Ainda Estou Aqui” doesn’t offer easy resolutions. Instead, it lingers in the spaces between hope and despair, demanding that we reckon with the unseen, the unspoken, and the unresolved grief of those who have no choice but to endure.