Movie Review: I'm Still Here

 Movie Number 14 of 2025

The Movie: I'm Still Here

The Cinema: Sun Theatre,Yarraville

Run time: Two hours 15 minutes

Rating: PG-13

Language: Portuguese with English subtitles

Stars: 4.5

There is a reason why I'm Still Here was nominated for a number of Oscars (Best Film, Best International Film, (which it won), and Best Leading Actress for Fernanda Torres) The reason why is it's bloody brilliant. A tour de force of a film, which you don't expect from this little film from Brazil. The performances bring this to an extra level. It's hard-hitting, yet subtle. It's a very human film. And even better (or worse) it's based on fact. 

We meet the Paiva family in 1970, living on Ipanema Beach in Rio de Janeiro. Mother, Eunice (Fernanda Torres) and her ex-congressman husband Rubens (Selton Mello) life a wonderful life with their five children, four girls and a boy. The kids are lively, loving life, intelligent and the family is one you'd love to be a part of. 

But all is not well in Rio. We see this first-hand through the conversations with the parents and when their eldest daughter Vera is stopped at a military checkpoint on the way home from that you start to realise that all is not well. There are a lot of covert conversations. Vera is sent to London to stay with family friends. There is word that people are disappearing. (What is it with these South American's and their military juntas?)

This is a part of Brazil's history which is often glossed over. It's truly awful what happened to so many people. The disappearances affect generations. 

It's through this set up that you grow very quickly to love the Paiva family. They're good people. When the unspeakable happens, when Rubens is taken away by the police that things kick in. Eunice is forced to keep the family going. This come to a head when she and her next eldest daughter, Eliana, are taken in for questioning that the seriousness of the situation really comes to a head. 

By the time Eunice is finally released from police custody, you are completely invested in the family. 

The film is based on the book written by the son, Marcelo Rubens Paiva. More about the family can be found here. 

This is exceptional filmmaking. Walter Salles, who also directed The Motorcycles Diaries, keeps a very tight rein on his actors. There is just the right balance of tension, family time and political intrigue. The set and costumes are spot on, capturing the seventies perfectly. And there is a dog. All good films have a dog. 

I also loved how the film made a deal of the family photos and films being shot, only to find the original family photos shown in the closing credits

For me, it's Fernanda Torres' performance which makes this movie. It's nuanced and understated and shows a woman providing incredible strength to her family and those around her. Some have said that she should have won the Oscar over Mikey Madison. It is a career best for the actress. Another fun fact, in the closing phase of the film, we see an older Eunice. She is played by Torres' mother, Fernanda Montenegro. And here was I thinking the makeup job was Oscar worthy. 

I'm very glad we went to see this. It's hard-hitting and emotional and a brilliant bit of cinema. That it's based on a true story from a bit of unrecognised world history, even better. 

This is definitely worth a look. 

Today's song: 

Stroke

 One... two.... three.... four.... five (breathe out through the nose), roll the left shoulder, six (Breath in through the mouth, head and shoulder down). 

Repeat. Until you get to the end of the lane. 

It's a mantra. 

I don't know how to tumble turn. And that's okay. I had my last proper swimming lesson some fifty years ago. I remember going to Mrs Brown's swimming school in Warradale, just down the road from my grandparent's place. All I can remember is blowing bubbles and being told to kick more. I still have to remind myself to kick. And don't ask me about my breaststroke. It's terrible and is in bad need of stroke correction. 

But my freestyle is solid. 

When I was running, I had similar mantras, but was more an "in two three four, hold two three four, out two three four...." the breath in time with my steps. 

I only breathe every six strokes when I do freestyle. When I'm fitter, more swim-fit, it's every eight strokes. 

I went swimming with EJ again this morning at the Box Hill pool. The pool is a complete melting pot. The inside pool is a Petrie dish where what feels like hundreds of children have their lessons. The outside pool, where we swim is less populated, but still a melting pot of ages and ethnicities. It's a nice pool. The people are friendly. You feel safe leaving your bag at the top of the lane. 

EJ's on another one of his swim challenges, and once again, I got to be the cheerleader. I'm also the other person in the lane who is not a pain to swim with. I get the etiquette. If you're swimming by yourself in a public pool, you want somebody who's respectful to swim with. You let the person who's slightly faster to go first. You don't hog the lane. You work your speeds. It's really relaxing. 

Of course, EJ is swimming 5-6 times a week. He's swim fit. He's doing 80 lengths of a 25 metre pool in about an hour. This time, I managed 50 lengths - around 1200 metres, in the same time. I'm stoked. 

What's even better, when doing freestyle, I can keep pace with EJ. I need to swim more to get fitter, to get faster. 

But the best thing of all? 

For an hour, I get to just count. One....two... three.... four.... five... (breath out through the nose) roll the left shoulder, six (breathe in through the mouth, then head and shoulder down). Repeat. Until you get to the end of the lane. 

Swimming is a meditation. 

It's wonderful.

Today's song:

Sunday Stealing: Countdown from Five

 It appears Sunday Stealing is back on deck after a hiatus of a couple of months. I'm pleased about this, as Sunday is my day to write fiction, and it means I can get a blog post out of the way. I'm trying to pen something for this month's Furious Fiction as well as get some knitting out the way and do some housework. As we have a long weekend, it's a great chance to get all of this done. 

So, thank you to The Gal Herself, who's taken over from Bev for he while setting the Sunday Stealing questions. 

FIVE people who mean the world to you.

I'm really not into naming and shaming people in this blog, so please excuse me if I group some people together. I have a broad group of friends from all over the word who I love and cherish and I'm bit amiss to single them out. So here goes. 

1. My family. Even though I don't see them much and they think I'm odd, I do love them. 

2. Jonella and Blarney - they're my Melbourne sisters. 

3. The girls from Gunnas, the writer's collective I belong to. We go on writing retreats together - and they are my tribe. I never thought I would find a tribe, but we all just get each other. 

4. Reindert. Reindert is my Dutch friend who lives in Colorado. He does friendship better than almost anybody I know. It's long-standing, gentle friendship. Maybe because we're both a bit odd. Maybe it's because we have similar values, but I love that he is my friend. 

5. Can I call out my cat? I know Lucifer isn't a person, but he is my child, and I love him dearly. 

FOUR things you fear.

1. Swimming in open water

2. Huntsman Spiders

3. Fundamental any group of religious people - and you can count Hillsong as part of this group. Maybe just change that to organised religion. 

4. Dying alone and in pain. 

THREE words to describe how you feel right now.

1.  Warm. (In was a fairly hot day here today)

2. Hopeful

3. Calm (Which considering the news is a bit of a miracle)

TWO things you're excited about.

1. I'm going to England and France in September. So looking forward to this. I've kept up with my daily French lessons. 

2. Having my hair grow back. My hairdresser, the wonderful Lee, chopped a lot of it off today and I feel a bit naked. I'll be excited to get it back again. I like my hair a bit longer, even if it does feel good. 

ONE thing you'd like to say to someone.

1. Please put me in front of one or other right-wing world leader and let me at them. Seriously, where does the world find these people. I'd love to give them a serve. I'll probably be wearing my "Typical Bloody Leftie" t-shirt at the time. (If you're in America, the t-shirt would read 'Typical Damned Liberal...")

Today's song: 

Movie Review: The Last Journey

 Movie Number 13 of 2025

The Movie: The Last Journey

The Cinema: Hoyts Victoria Gardens

Runtime: 90 minutes

Stars: 4.5

In limited release. 

I'm going to be recommending this film to everybody, especially if you have aging parents. I remember seeing the ads for this at the cinema and it went high up on my list of things to see. Then I hear it was Sweden's entry in the International Film category at the Academy Awards. Yep. I see why this is the case. 

This film didn't let me down. It's a gorgeous little documentary. Yes, a documentary. It's absolutely gorgeous. 

This is ostensibly a road movie. Filip Hammar is a well-known Swedish broadcaster, who has been all over the Swedish media with his mate Fredrik Wikingsson for a couple of decades. At the start of the film, Filip is very worried about his father, a once jovial and engaged man who used to teach French at the local high school in Koping, a satellite town just out of Stockholm in Sweden. After retirement, he appears to have blended in with his armchair and lost his will to live. They get him tested for dementia and can't find too much wrong with him. 

In an effort to give Dad/Lars a bit of life back, Filip, along with his best mate Fredrik, embark on a journey with Dad to recapture his love of life. A complete Francophile, Lars loves everything French. As a family, they would holiday in a town called Beaulieu-sur-Mer, on the Mediterranean, near the Italian border. 

Filip wants to recapture the joy that his father had being in his most favourite place in the world. So they start to plan this trip, with the blessing of his mother, Tiina, who is doing a lot better in the aging stakes. 

And the journey starts. And there are some false starts, but they finally get on their way. They drive the same car that they took on holiday - and ancient orange Renault 4 (The car the family took to France when Filip was a child), complete with gears on the stick and afterthought seatbelts. Very much like the kombi van in Little Miss Sunshine, the car has a personality of its own.

And the two men go about recreating a best of reel of Lars and the family on holiday, from the meals they ate, to the music he loved, to old friends and other experiences in which Lars used to revel.

This is not only a film about aging, which brings some of the more heart-rending moment. If you have aging parents, or have watched your own parents with theirs, you'll get the drift. Aging can be cruel. It's about family, memory, joy and nostalgia. There are some very fully moments in the film, as well as others that will have you reaching for the tissue box. What you take away from these moments is that Lars is a very decent, very loved man, even if he can't see it. 

And yes, the film is in Swedish, with a smattering of French and English thrown in for good measure. The subtitles are good

This film is wonderful. Heart-warming, funny, eye opening, kind, hopeful and true. Go see it. Take a couple of tissues. Thank me later. 

Today's song: 

It's only 15 Minutes

Fifteen minutes makes all the difference. It's only 15 minutes, you say. 

It's 15 minutes. 

Today, I went into work an hour early. I got there at just after 8 a.m. with the knowledge that I had an engagement after work. Normally, I slope in just before nine and stay until six, getting the bulk of my work done in the afternoon, after a morning of meetings. 

I had it all planned out. 

Turn off the computer. Jump under the shower. Get dressed. Put on some make up. Grab my little speaker. Feed the cat. Grab my stuff and get on the tram for a six 'o' clock kick off at my friend's gallery on Brunswick Street for six. 

This was cutting it fine. Trams are a fickle mode of transport. 

And that was the plan. 

Did it happen that everything ran to plan. 

No. 

There was a meeting.

Meetings scheduled for 4.30 p.m. never bring good tidings. What was being discussed was by the by. 

I asked for the first part of the meeting if I could keep my camera off as I was doing some editing in the background, and nobody needs to see my tongue hanging out the side of mouth as I do the fine mouse work. I was nearly finished the document. On a normal night, I'd be staying back to get it finished. But no. I had a meeting and I wanted to be out the door by five. 

Five 'o' clock came. They were still talking. 

There was something I needed to ask, so I put up my screen hand. 

They kept talking. By this time my camera was politely on. My virtual hand was still raised. 

I am, if anything, polite. 

Ten past five comes. They are still talking. 

My hackles are rising. 

At 5.13 p.m. my hand was noticed and I was given the floor. 

I politely stated that I had an appointment, it was after five, but I needed some information. This was given. I politely said goodbye, left the others to the meeting, then turned off my computer.

It was 5.15 p.m. by then. 

And sure, I was only running 15 minutes behind schedule, but I was fuming on the inside. 

I raced through my preparations, fed the cat, grabbed my little speaker (which was needed at the venue) and made my way to the gathering. I just missed a tram. Another came in a few minutes. I arrived 30 minutes late, not that it was a big issue, but I had it all planned. 

And my overthinking, super planning pain in the arse brain was going into overdrive. 

I finally found my equilibrium another 15 minutes after arriving. My friend runs a gallery which specialises in French posters. Yes, it's very niche, but I was in heaven. She even had a French version of this poster. Bliss. 

(My friend has been told that if she ever finds a movie poster of Three Colours: Blue to give me a call. I'd be sorely tempted to take if off her hands. It's my favourite film.)

But it's amazing how 15 minutes can bugger up your day so badly. 

At least it's back on track now. 

Today's song: 

Put Your Questions in a Box Questions

 It seems Sunday Stealing is getting back on its feet after a haitus of a couple of months. I do like having these questions to do on a weekend, even if they are often America-centric at times. It means I don't have to think about what I'm writing about for a day a week. They're currently looking for a new quiz setter. I'm not up to that. Bev, who was running this for a few years did a great job. So for the moment Bud Weiser, the person who used to set the quiz is back on track. 

Anyway, here's last week's questions:

1. Where were you three hours ago?

I was at the Melbourne Convention Centre seeing Kagami: Ryuichi Sakamoto and Tin Drum. This was a musical and virtual reality feast. I loved every minute of it. See my review here. 

2. Make a confession.

I'm rather proud of myself for living in England for six years in the nineties without a visa. You could never get away with it now, but it's something I did. 

3. Bad habits?

Far too many to list. 

4. Favorite color?

My favourite colour is probably pillar box red. I love deep reds. 

5. Can you drive?

Yes. I can drive pretty much anything with four wheels - cars, trucks, tractors... I love to drive, and I'm happy driving both manuals and automatics. I'm the person who drives their friend's car home when they've had too much to drink. Driving anything is one of my superpowers. 

6. 3 pet peeves.

1. People who are rude to service staff. 
2. People who walk slowly in front of you (nearly slapped somebody this evening)
3. People who expect you to eat dessert with a big spoon. (Neurodiversity indicator - dessert must always be eaten with a teaspoon - you get more bang for your buck that way - I've known this for years.)

7. Last person you hugged.

I'm not sure. I think it was my mate Bear as I left the retreat on Sunday afternoon. There were lots of hugs to be had at the retreat, but I'm pretty sure it was Bear - or Lynda, who remembered to bring the cauldron. 

8. Something you miss.

Kissing. I can't remember the last time I was kissed property. 

Oh, and I miss the United States having sane leader. The last one, okay, was a bit feeble, but at least he was in control and sane. 

Oh, and our televisions being free from Clive Palmer and his insipid, annoying and dog-whistling ads. 

9. What song is stuck in your head at the moment?

See below. I love Mel C - she's the only Spice Girl who could really sing. 

10. Favorite quote.

"Brevity is the soul of wit." William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2. 

Oh, and I like this one too:

"When the world is silent, one voice is powerful." Malala Yousefzai

11. Favorite band.

THE PIXIES!

But running a close second is Talking Heads. 

12. Something you're excited for.

I'm going to England and France in September. It's six months away, but I'm very much looking forward to it. 

13. Favorite movie.

Oh, I have too many favourite movies, but one that keeps coming up in this list is Three Colours: Blue. It really is exceptional.

14. What type of phone do you have?

Currently I have an Apple iPhone 15 Pro. I love it. It takes great photos. 

15. Favorite animal.

My cat, Lucifer. 

Today's song: 

Kagami: Ryuishi Sakamoto and Tin Drum

 The Event: Kagami - Ryuishi Sakamoto and Tin Drum as part of the ASIATOPA Festival

Where: The Convention Centre (Next to The Lume)

Ticket Price: Around $100 with the booking fee

Until: 16 March

Stars 4.5

I bought a ticket to this on a whim. I knew nothing about Ryuichi Sakamoto (1952-2023), but curious as to how they were going to bring an Oscar winning pianist back to life with the assistance of virtual reality, I chanced it and bought a ticket. 

It was a very good decision. 

Here's the blurb on the Asia TOPA website:

"Presented by: Asia TOPA, Arts Centre Melbourne

One of the most acclaimed and ground-breaking new shows of recent years, KAGAMI is an extraordinary and profoundly moving performance by Japanese composer Ryuichi Sakamoto.

KAGAMI is a collaboration between mixed reality pioneers Tin Drum and Sakamoto. Sakamoto’s internationally-acclaimed body of work ranges from influential electronic pioneers Yellow Magic Orchestra to his hugely acclaimed soundtrack work Merry Christmas, Mr Lawrence, The Revenant and The Last Emperor, for which he won an Academy Award.

KAGAMI is a new kind of concert. Audiences are invited to wear glasses that fuse three-dimensional moving images with the real world. The result is an intimate encounter with Sakamoto and a never-before-seen mixed reality performance experience. A truly immersive work that removes any barrier between the performance, the audience and the artist himself, KAGAMI puts you on the stage with Sakamoto.

KAGAMI is a uniquely intimate, elegiac gift that moves us to reconnect with Sakamoto’s genius and be transfixed by the beauty of his music once again. Simply exquisite."

And yes, I was a little confused about what I was getting myself into as I lined up at Door 17 at the Melbourne Convention Centre. The fellow who scanned my ticket said that if I needed corrective glasses for short-sightedness to go to the desk on the right inside the door. There they take your approximate prescription and give you a sticker, and you get told to go inside the auditorium. The reason for the eyesight check is that they put it lenses to your VR headset as normal glasses don't under them. It's a cool deal. I possibly could have gone without the correction as my glasses prescription is only a point out in each eye, but still, I'm glad I did it. 

Another thing you're told before the show starts - the graphics are good, but not perfect. As this has been adapted from old footage, the images are clear, but not what I'd call high definition. This was good as it managed expectations. 

You go in. 

The first area runs a video of  Ryuishi Sakamoto along with some large prints of the composer in his younger years and a video of him later in life in either the Arctic or Antarctic. Whichever one it was, he was finding the music in the ice. 

We were then invited into the main auditorium, where we were told to sit down, place any belongings under the chairs and wait for our VR kit. We were also given the rules. Look through your goggles and you should see a big red square in the centre of the mandala (Yep - and it was a bit freaky to start with) Once the performance starts, after the 30 or so of us had received our get up, if we were to leave there was no coming back. We were encouraged to move around the space, but to stay out of the square mandala on the floor. We were also told to be careful when moving about. The VR headsets direct your gaze forward, but you are very aware of the real world in your peripheral vision. Also, the auditorium was about a third full when I saw the show, so there was plenty of room to move about. 

And then it started. 

The Maestro, was there, in the middle of the mandala, playing on a Yamaha grand piano. There were all sorts of effects around him. Clouds, lights, feathers, beams, videos, depending on the song that was playing. Moving around the space, you had 360-degree access, watching as Sakamoto played his music. 

If people were in front of you, the VR goggles blurred them out. 

This was the shot I took in the middle of the performance: 

But this is what I was seeing in 3D with the ability to walk around, watch his hands as he played, not seeing anybody in front of me, as a lightshow played around him.  

And the music was exquisite.

The 50-minute showing took us through songs from The Last Emperor, Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence and The Revenant, among others. Engrossing, emotional music, which was only amplified by the VR perspective. For me, it reminded me of the Ludovico Einaudi concert I went to about a year ago. 

I loved this. 

And as much of a sceptic as I am about virtual reality, this is a bloody good use for it. 

The show comes highly recommended. It's here until 16 March. 

Today's song: