Pitched somewhere between science-fiction and fable, director Gabriel Mascaro's "The Blue Trail" finds a beacon of optimism within its own dystopian view of the future. Set in the director's native Brazil -- and showcasing the astonishing natural beauty (side by side with decay) of the Amazon in every high-definition frame -- the film centers a 77-year-old woman, Tereza (Denise Weinberg), in a society that has deemed anyone above the age of 75 an impediment to its economic success. Mascaro sees her differently, and so will we by the end of what unexpectedly turns out to be the greatest South American houseboat movie since "Fitzcarraldo."
The "Neon Bull" director has always had an incredible visual sense, though his plots tend to lack focus. Not this one. Judging by its concept alone, "The Blue Trail" could technically be classified alongside "Children of Men" on video store shelves. And yet, the director's generous anti-ageist excursion turns out to be the polar opposite of Alfonso Cuarón's alarmingly bleak sci-fi thriller in both genre and tone (if anything, it's got those feel-good "Cocoon" vibes). The way Mascaro sees things, it's our elders we must worry about, as overzealous authorities have done a clever job of covering their erasure.
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The film opens with signs of the propaganda machine at work, touting the value of those who served their country and insisting that they must now be "protected" -- a euphemism for a systematic campaign to round up and relocate the country's oldsters to the Colony. Little is actually known about this settlement, though rumor has it that no one comes back from there. Others are itching to get in, feeling so lonely and abandoned that they apply for early admission.
All of this is news to Tereza, who works in an alligator meat processing facility. Able-bodied and independent, she has never given much thought to retirement -- despite a newly approved policy that deems otherwise. The government recently lowered the age at which people's adult children assume custody of their parents from 80 to 75 (figures which may amuse some Americans, who elected septuagenarian candidates in their last three presidential elections).
Mascaro reveals the rule change indirectly -- and the opposition via graffiti scrawled on crumbling walls -- so we're as surprised as Tereza when social workers show up to pin laurels around the door of her shack: a form of tribute, they claim ("Since when is getting older an honor?" Tereza asks skeptically), though it also means her days are numbered. Now would be a good time to think about her bucket list, suggests a jolly co-worker (Rosa Malagueta), who coaxes out of Tereza her greatest desire: to ride in an airplane. It's a modest enough goal for someone who's never flown, but tricky, since regulations require that Tereza get permission from her daughter (Clarissa Pinheiro) for every little thing.
Tereza has made it this far in life without relying on others, and so she resolves to fulfill her dream alone -- although if that makes her sound ornery, think again. Weinberg has a gentle face, smiling eyes and an infectious inner warmth. Collecting her life savings from a tin can, Tereza first heads to the travel agency to buy a round-trip commercial airline ticket, the first one available. Failing that, she charters a boat upriver to Itacoatiora, where private pilots fly ultralight aircraft. Cadu, the captain of this clunky banana boat, appears so drunk and disheveled, it took me a few scenes to recognize Rodrigo Santoro beneath all that scruff.
The next 20 minutes could be Mascaro's jaunty take on "The African Queen," as this affable and unassuming old woman tries to make nice with her surly guide, who snorts rapé at the helm and later introduces her to the psychotropic effects of the "blue drool snail." Tereza isn't quite ready for such a mind-altering experience, although you can bet your fighting betta fish that she'll wind up trying it before the end credits roll (when those do come, it's set to the same quirky electronic score, by Memo Guerra, that gives everything else such an upbeat feel).
"The Blue Trail" unfolds like a road trip movie, minus the roads, as Tereza moves primarily by water -- "always departing," as a far-from-young new friend puts it. This woman would be Roberta (Miriam Socarras), the cheerful charlatan who sells electronic Bibles from her boat, and who has discovered the secret to evading the Colony: buy your freedom. At an age when society was ready to put her out to pasture, everyone Tereza encounters has something to teach her about how to live. That also goes for Ludemir (Adanilo), the unlucky gambler who swears he can get his ultralight airborne again.
But by that time, Tereza has a new dream. Rather than rotting at home in her barraco or facing the indignity of the Colony, she wants to fully experience a life she long took for granted. Though one of Mascaro's messages is undeniably respect for the elderly, the self-liberation Tereza represents -- first indicated in a funny dance she does at her factory job -- could be experienced by people of any age. Her journey is short, just 86 minutes, but it's filled with indelible encounters and images, like the mountain of used tires, sent back to the forests from which the rubber was harvested; the surreal fiberglass graveyard of an abandoned amusement park; or shots of a Cadu's tiny boat chugging along an S-curve in the river that feel so free, it's almost like flying.