Nominated for four Oscars, The Secret Agent, set in the backdrop of Brazil’s military rule in 1977, follows one man trying to get out before the system closes in on him. But it is not a regular political thriller — the Kleber Mendonça Filho directorial hits harder with its modern-day relevance and the reality many live in parts of the world.

Wagner Moura, vying for a Best Actor Oscar, plays Marcelo, a research scientist who arrives in Recife to pick up his young son from his late wife’s parents and leave the country. We don’t get the full story at once about why he’s running. The film takes its time. You lean in instead of being told what to think.

Moura keeps the performance controlled. He communicates mostly in silence. He plays Marcelo as a man who thinks before he speaks and often chooses not to speak at all. You can see him calculating every move. That restraint does more than any big emotional, preachy monologue could. He’s a father, a doting husband who lost his wife to a vengeful administration, and he knows the state can crush him if it wants to.

He hides out in an apartment building run by an old woman with zero patience for nonsense. She protects people quietly. Around him is a mix of tenants and visitors who reflect the country at the time. A Jewish tailor with old war wounds. A secretary openly interested in Marcelo. An Angolan couple waiting to escape from the country.

Everybody here is hiding from state-hired assassins. Everyone is bidding their time.

Then there’s the local police chief. He enjoys power too much. He’s corrupt and not even trying to hide it. The idea that someone like him can decide your fate on a whim will make you squirm. That’s the point. Under a dictatorship, rules shift depending on who you are and who you know.

Director Kleber Mendonça Filho doesn’t rush the story. He lets scenes play out. Sometimes he steps away from Marcelo completely to show daily life in Recife. Carnival fills the streets. Music, drinking, chaos. Newspapers mention 91 deaths at the carnival like it’s routine. Officials even joke about the figures racing towards a century. There’s even a rumour spreading about a severed leg attacking people. It sounds absurd. Fear and hysteria grow fast when trust in institutions is gone.

There’s a scene where Marcelo meets the other residents in the building. Moura barely says anything. He just looks at them and listens. You understand him in that moment. He’s cautious but not cold. Tired but still decent. Full of empathy.

One of the strongest moments comes during carnival. Marcelo blends into the crowd for a few minutes. He has a drink. He dances. He almost looks relaxed. It’s brief. Then reality returns. That contrast says more about lost freedom than any line of dialogue.

The film works as a thriller. You keep wondering when the hitmen will catch up, when the police chief will make his move. But it also works as a portrait of what daily life feels like under authoritarian rule. Corruption is casual. Violence is normalised. People adapt because they have to.

Moura holds everything together. The performance is quiet but steady. Grief over his wife’s death shows up in a single scene and it lands because it’s not overplayed. His connection with his son feels real.

By the end, the question isn’t just whether Marcelo escapes. It’s what it costs to live in a place where power answers to no one. And with authoritarian regimes making a mockery of law in countries across the globe, The Secret Agent helps the audience see the pattern.