THE STORY – To maximize economic productivity, the Brazilian government orders elderly people to move to remote housing colonies. A 75-year-old woman refuses and embarks on a journey through the Amazon that will change her destiny forever.
THE CAST – Denise Weinberg, Rodrigo Santoro, Miriam Socarrás & Adanilo
THE TEAM – Gabriel Mascaro (Director/Writer) & Tibério Azul (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 86 Minutes
The dystopian futuristic genre meets as “mad as hell” woman in the TIFF film “The Blue Trail” by “Neon Bull” Brazilian director Gabriel Mascaro. In his latest feature, 75-year-old Tereza is suddenly forced into retirement by an oppressive, discriminatory near-future Brazilian government. She escapes, determined to avoid a grim fate and pursue a critical item on her bucket list – to fly on a plane. Her journey takes her to the doorsteps of a motley crew of liberated characters, but ultimately zigzags so much that the movie feels bereft of a true purpose.
The setting is a Brazilian crocodile skinning factory, where the quiet and sullen Tereza spends her days hard at work. The mostly bleak landscape of this rural Brazilian town, punctuated by gray, moody cinematography by Guillermo Garza, is littered with signs of protest against the regime’s cruel treatment of the elderly. “The elderly are not commodities,” one block-lettered piece of graffiti on a disheveled brick wall reads. In this world, the elderly are forced into retirement and become wards of their children or the state. They are humiliated with methods like a “wrinkle van” that features a cage where older people are placed, strapped in like dogs, and taken back to their residences. If some fall out of line, they may be taken to “The Colony,” a place from which it is rumored no one returns and that is reminiscent of re-education camps in other futuristic dystopian films like “Children of Men.”
From the outset, it’s not quite clear why this society has organized itself in this strange way. One explanation is provided – that the state wants younger people to stay productive and they cannot do so if they’re worried about taking care of the elderly. Why, then, this would mean placing the aged into their care as wards is not explained. The point is that the premise underlying the otherwise amusing set-up is unconvincing, and therefore an immediate stumbling block. Nor is it clear how this system persists, enabled by a legion of middle-aged people who surely must ask themselves how all of this will feel when it’s inevitably their turn.
Still, the veteran stage actress in the lead role, Denise Weinberg, is a delight to watch. She has all the trappings of a quiet, modern Howard Beale. She mumbles incoherencies and is mostly just angry as hell and will not take it, from anyone, anymore. When a friend asks her mockingly what’s on her bucket list, she realizes that she should pursue her dream of flight, the state and the skeptical friend be damned. She escapes the forced captivity of her daughter and treks mostly illegally down the Amazon with a wayward man. The film later derives its name from a snail that produces a mysterious blue liquid that’s said to allow you to see the future if you drip it into your corneas. Later still, Tereza is caught but escapes again, persistent in her commitment to not be kept back by the mores of the society around her.
The film’s pace is brisk, at least at first, with Tereza’s rebellion unfolding through a series of tense but humorous encounters, which highlight both the absurdity and cruelty of her society, along with her own exasperation. Mascaro is generous with the surreal imagery of the visuals – the graffiti and wrinkle van are accompanied by planes emblazoned with signs stating how the government loves the elderly, and other “1984”-like farcical propaganda. This all underscores the oppressive environment while adding persistent moments of levity and satire. As Tereza presses forward, her interactions with the eccentric companions she travels with add further color, comedic relief, and even a brief hope to the otherwise grim outlook. These episodes, though, feel disconnected from each other and the central thread.
While most of the film is swift and interesting enough, Mascaro loses his thread along the way, just as his protagonist persistently finds herself in confounding situations. If this is a story about resistance to authority, about self-discovery and self-fulfillment at all stages of life, or about how we become human from the little pleasures, then it is an OK but not great film. If it is about something else – perhaps oppression, the favorite cinematic theme du jour – then that never comes across clearly. Either way, the little escapee adventure tale runs out of steam quickly, and is saved only by the mercifully compressed runtime.
“The Blue Trail,” despite its many narrative flaws, stands out for a striking visual style and ability to ask uncomfortable questions about aging and autonomy. It perhaps forces us to reckon again with the age-old, cinematic question of what makes us human. Is it not our freedom or our dignity? What will happen, then, if society continues to value efficiency over humanity? These compelling issues are unfortunately not convincingly explored, even if a strong performance and stylish visuals keep us interested enough along the way.