“Oh wow, who would’ve thought? I’m Still Here is a box office sensation! Because, of course, every introspective, politically charged foreign film smashes records. Hollywood, take notes! Now, let’s talk about Brazil’s reality.”
After decades of pursuing an Oscar, Walter Salles finally claimed a consolation prize when I’m Still Here won the Best International Feature Film Award in 2025. Directed by Salles, the film portrays a family shattered by Brazil’s military dictatorship, which governed the country for over two decades. It stars Fernanda Torres as Eunice Paiva, the wife of Rubens Paiva—a former leftist Brazilian congressman who, at the peak of the dictatorship in 1971, was abducted from his family’s home in Rio de Janeiro and never seen again.
Despite what government-funded mainstream media and Itaú Bank might suggest, trust me— Brazilians didn’t flock to theaters to watch this movie. Yet Salles, clutching his Oscar, later declared:
“This is for a woman who, after suffering a loss under an authoritarian regime, chose not to yield and to resist. This prize is for her,” Salles declared in his acceptance speech, earning a standing ovation. “And it is for the two remarkable women who brought her to life.” Let’s humor the idea that this film is a box-office smash!
But who is Walter Salles?
Born in 1956 in Rio de Janeiro, he’s a celebrated Brazilian filmmaker known for Central Station (1998) and The Motorcycle Diaries (2004). His latest work, I’m Still Here (2024), secured the Oscar for Best International Feature. Beyond his cinematic achievements, Salles hails from one of Brazil’s richest banking dynasties—his father founded Unibanco, which later merged with Itaú to form one of Latin America’s most prominent financial giants. With an estimated net worth of $4.4 billion, he stands among the world’s wealthiest filmmakers, alongside Spielberg and Lucas.
Here’s a point worth emphasizing: Salles depicts a leftist congressman as a hero during an era when such figures were robbing banks and detonating car bombs. Consider The Motorcycle Diaries, where he portrays Che Guevara as a gentle dreamer chasing ideals—the same man who 1964 boldly declared at the UN Assembly in Castro’s name, “HOMELAND OR DEATH.” What I see is revolutionary propaganda. Hardly surprising, of course. Though revolutionaries glorify Guevara’s legacy, the truth is inescapable. His actions drown out the myths—he persecuted and massacred opponents, including LGBTQ individuals who now ironically sport his face on their t-shirts. Wherever he went, poverty and suffering followed in his wake. Far from embodying liberation, he was nothing less than a harbinger of death.
Let’s return to I’m Still Here context…
In 1964, Brazil saw the rise of a military dictatorship. Yet, contrary to the claims of billionaires and artistic elites, the people demanded it. The Soviet Union had been stoking chaos in Brazil by funding and promoting a proletarian revolution.
But why nobody talked about that?
In March 2014, Laudelino Lima, a colleague who runs the website Verdades Sufocadas, was about to go to bed when he noticed an email he’d received. It was from Mauro Abranches Kraenski, a Brazilian living in Poland, who wrote in the email: “I am in the archives of the KGB and StB in the Czech Republic, translating infiltration materials from Brazil dating back to the 1950s and 1980s.” Extensive evidence reveals that both Brazil’s government at that time and the USSR actively fueled chaos and terrorism within the country. For decades, however, Brazilians have been fed a one-sided narrative—a distorted history shaped by the left that buries critical facts. Salle’s movie victim, Rubens Paiva, was tied to the Carlos Lamarca terrorist group on October 8, leading to his arrest by the military regime. He never returned home. During this period, Brazil’s major cities faced relentless terrorist attacks from radical groups bent on imposing their ideological vision. Among those involved were Dilma Rousseff—later impeached as president in 2016—and José Dirceu, a “former Cuban” agent who rose to power alongside Lula and remains influential today. For context, these groups, including MR8 and ALN (Ação de Libertação Nacional), kidnapped American Ambassador Charles Elbrick in 1969.
They Twist the History and Lefties Crimes
Brazil’s true history has been twisted for political gain. It’s time to face the whole truth, rejecting the skewed version that serves those who seek to rewrite the past for their benefit. As readers, you play a vital role in demanding that truth. It’s your responsibility to seek the truth and not be swayed by biased narratives. But billionaires like Walter Salles won’t make it easy to uncover.
The reality of Brazil’s military government wasn’t one of oppression; it was a necessary response to avert a far worse fate akin to what unfolded in Spain. Ask Spain’s older generation, and many will say Franco brought stability. Meanwhile, the Republicans, aligned with Stalin, allowed the Cheka to execute Spaniards on their soil. Brazil faced a similar threat. Those who claimed ‘oppression’ under the military regime were often individuals openly working to establish a proletarian dictatorship—a goal they still shamelessly admit today. The military acted not out of tyranny but out of necessity, sparing Brazil the chaos and bloodshed that engulfed other communist-influenced nations. This context is crucial to understanding the true nature of the military’s actions.
In my view—and I’m not afraid to say it, unlike many Brazilian public figures—the military’s most significant error was allowing the left to entrench itself in universities and cultural spaces. This oversight paved the way for the ideological dominance we see today. Would a proper dictatorship fund and tolerate its enemies’ free operation? The facts reveal what happened! The Gramscian strategy succeeded brilliantly. Leftist movements gradually reshaped public perception, rewrote history, and influenced generations by infiltrating education, media, and the arts. What the military halted on the battlefield, they failed to stop in classrooms and cultural arenas—where the real revolution took root.
The Reality Today: Salles Bank Family Supports the Dictatorship
Fast forward to Jair Bolsonaro’s chaotic 2018 election, where he narrowly escaped a leftist assassin’s knife. What followed was the rise of an actual dictatorship in Brazil. The sprawling Lava Jato operation sent leftist heavyweights like José Dirceu and Lula to prison. Still, their influence lingered through a Supreme Court ally. Over Bolsonaro’s four-year term, a barrage of fake news and unconstitutional rulings from the Court not only targeted and jailed his supporters but also destabilized his administration, sowing relentless chaos.
One of the first victims of this Judicial Tyrrany was former congressman Daniel Silveira, who was imprisoned during his term simply for criticizing Judge Alexandre de Moraes, the head of this authoritarian regime. Although Bolsonaro granted him amnesty, the judicial dictatorship continues to wield power through the Federal Police, using coercion and threats to silence dissent.
Judge Alexandre de Moraes has repeatedly wielded his authority to pressure social media platforms into censoring dissenting voices, even going so far as to imprison political opponents. His crackdown isn’t limited to politicians but to ordinary citizens targeted for expressing their opinions. Moreover, his reach goes beyond Brazil’s borders, as he has openly threatened foreign companies and individuals who refuse to comply with his censorship demands. Recently, he took action against Elon Musk, freezing Starlink funds in Brazil and pressuring Rumble CEO Chris Pavlovski to resist governmental overreach. This isn’t just a political dispute—it’s a direct assault on free speech, democracy, and the fundamental right to think and express oneself freely.
Countless others suffer under this judicial dictatorship. Will Walter Salles, an Oscar-winning billionaire, or Fernanda Torres, a Golden Globe-winning actress, speak out? Of course not. They remain silent—not out of ignorance, but because they support and enable Brazil’s authoritarian system.
The Salles family’s bank, Itaú, openly funneled money into Lula’s 2022 campaign, backing the regime that now silences opposition. Meanwhile, the artistic elite, including Fernanda Torres, has relentlessly crafted false narratives against Bolsonaro, pushing propaganda that serves their interests. Leading this clique is the singer Caetano Veloso, notorious for his disturbing pro-pedophilia comments in Playboy during the ’90s, who has leveraged his influence to tilt Brazil’s cultural landscape toward leftist authoritarianism. Their silence isn’t neutrality—it’s complicity. They’re not bystanders; they’re active participants in dismantling Brazil’s freedoms.
The Coup Against Innocents and Freedom
Yet the most shocking parallel is to January 6, 2021, at the U.S. Capitol. On January 8, 2023, the Lula regime, with help from secret agencies and powerful allies, staged a coup—not to seize power but to ensnare Bolsonaro’s supporters. The tactics mirrored those in the U.S.: crowds were steered toward Brasília’s central district, chaos was incited, and violence was orchestrated to frame innocents and justify an unprecedented crackdown. This wasn’t spontaneous—it was a calculated move to criminalize Bolsonaro’s base and solidify the regime’s control.
I warned of this in an Instagram video the Friday before, urging caution because the setup echoed the Capitol events two years prior. The signs were clear—yet mainstream narratives still distort the truth, hiding the real culprits behind January 8. Brazil’s deep state sought to instill fear, especially given the widely suspected election fraud. The Justice Minister, now a Supreme Court Minister, erased footage from over 80 on-site cameras.
That day, thousands were herded into concentration camps and jailed without proper trials. Others, like Cleriston Cunha (Clezão), were hunted nationwide despite not being present on January 8. Clezão died 10 months later in a maximum-security prison without a crime. I’ll never forget that day—his lawyer, Caivano, and I were live, commentating on a YouTube channel, when he received the grim call. Many of us abroad, myself included, avoid returning to Brazil to escape arrest. Nor can I forget Débora dos Santos, a mother of two, still imprisoned without trial.
On January 8, during the protests, 38-year-old Débora scrawled “Perdeu, mané” (“You lost, loser”) in lipstick on the Statue of Justice outside the Supreme Federal Court (STF). Ironically, she quoted Justice Roberto Barroso, who had used the exact phrase in an interview, yet she’s facing punishment. Her ongoing detention stands as a grim example of Brazil’s selective justice and authoritarian overreach. While Supreme Court Judge Gilmar Mendes has freed major drug traffickers and even returned their helicopters, a mother of two remains behind bars—not for violence, but for words the powerful refuse to tolerate.
The Fighters
Meanwhile, Congressman Eduardo Bolsonaro has taken the fight global, exposing Lula’s regime and the Supreme Court’s abuses. In retaliation, Judge Alexandre de Moraes and Lula’s government have branded him a national traitor, putting him at constant risk of arrest. Eduardo isn’t just a politician—he’s a key ally of President Trump and helped push a U.S. Congress bill barring De Moraes and similar figures from entering the United States.
Another crucial figure is journalist Allan dos Santos, who secured U.S. political asylum after exposing Iran and China’s espionage plot against Bolsonaro—a conspiracy the Supreme Court didn’t just know about but actively enabled. Hounded without mercy, Dos Santos saw his life in Brazil gutted by De Moraes’ decrees, his home raided by Federal Police who brandished guns at his pregnant wife and two small sons, shattering any illusion of justice. And yet, where are Walter Salles and Fernanda Torres, those self-anointed guardians of democracy? Mute. Fattened by taxpayer cash, their artistic posse feigns ignorance while reaping the rewards from a system that stomps on dissent. Meanwhile, the Salles family’s Itaú bank swells with wealth, flourishing under the Supreme Court-propped Lula tyranny.
There’s much more to uncover, but one thing is sure: Brazilians are enduring one of the most brutal and dangerous dictatorships in modern history. This reality, however, rarely graces the silver screen— especially not from Hollywood-linked elites and billionaires who profit from this oppression. So here we are—Brazil’s saga unfolds not in the glossy frames of Walter Salles’ Oscar-winning I’m Still Here, which paints a leftist congressman as a martyr while sidestepping the bank-robbing, car bombing chaos of his ilk, nor in the heroic glow he once cast on Che Guevara in The Motorcycle Diaries, but in a grittier reality where the 1964 military regime, demanded by a people staring down a Soviet-fueled proletarian nightmare, gets recast as oppression by billionaires like Salles and his Itaú empire, only to give way to a far uglier beast: a modern judicial dictatorship where Alexandre de Moraes jails mothers like Débora dos Santos for lipstick graffiti, hunts innocents like Cleriston Cunha to death, and rigs traps like January 8, 2023, with Lula’s deep-state cronies—all while Fernanda Torres and Caetano Veloso sip champagne in silence, their artistic clique propped up by public cash and complicity, as Eduardo Bolsonaro and Allan dos Santos dodge arrest to scream the truth; this isn’t the Brazil of Salles’ silver screen but a nation choking under one of history’s sneakiest tyrannies, and it’s on you, the reader, to see through the propaganda fog and demand the raw, unfiltered facts before the likes of these elites snuff out what’s left of freedom.
