Review | 75ª Berlinale | The Blue Trail

The Blue Trail (Brasil, Mexico, Netherlands and Chile, 2025)

Original title: O Último Azul
Director: Gabriel Mascaro
Screenplay: Gabriel Mascaro, Tibério Azul and Murilo Hauser
Main cast: Denise Weinberg, Rodrigo Santoro, Adanilo, Miriam Socarras, Rosa Malagueta, Dimas Mendonça and Clarissa Pinheiro
Running time: 85 minutes

Even though she’s Brazilian, it’s hard not to feel a bit shocked at the beginning of The Blue Trail, when we are introduced to the character Tereza (Denise Weinberg) and her unusual job working at an alligator slaughterhouse in the middle of the Amazon. This is initially shocking and, despite being a reality in the North of the country, it sets us in motion to understand that this will not be an ordinary story. Then, we are introduced to the concept of speculative fiction: in this reality, all elderly people must register to be sent to a retirement colony, retiring immediately and not knowing exactly what awaits them there.

Tereza isn’t so concerned about this compulsory retirement, but she can see the consequences in the city, with airplanes carrying advertisements and people from the city hall approaching her and asking for documents. Even though she shows signs of being able to move around even in a region of stilt houses, there’s an insistence on talking to her slowly and loudly, suggesting an old age that we can see the character doesn’t feel. So, when she’s faced with the reality of having to go to this colony, she decides to travel to fulfill her unfulfilled dream of flying – without even imagining that there will be a much longer trail than she imagined ahead.

What Gabriel Mascaro manages to develop is a story that takes advantage of local specificities to bring a global narrative about the right to healthy aging and, mainly, the need for the ability to dream regardless of age. All the details fit together well to create a hero’s journey that is close to Campbell’s classic structure, but in such an Amazonian way that it would be impossible for the work to be created in any other context.

Trying not to give excessive details about the plot, since the call to the unknown is part of how the narrative is constructed, we can comment on the importance of some elements brought to light by the script. One of them is the ever-present blue slime snail, which brings elements of ancestral knowledge and leads to an astral journey to open the paths of her life. Representing a kind of sacred jurema (an indigenous religious tradition most common to the North and Northeast of Brazil), it’s essential to represent this place where the magical and the ordinary are always close, with an ability to read the surroundings that escapes those who are not used to noticing the details. The same thing happens in relation to betting on the animal game (a lottery-type game very popular in Brazil, illegal since 1946 in almost the entire national territory) and goldfish, the latter being a real tradition, just embellished for the film. The absence of the State in the region for truly important issues, such as health or education, leads to a path of real need, represented in a fictional way but which doesn’t fail to present its social critique.

This representation of the Amazon is also very important, bringing to the screen a less conventional image than that of exoticism so present in images of the North of the country. We do have magical elements, but there’s also the whole common routine, the intense work, the difficult-to-access housing, the moments of fun and those of worry. And incredible characters are created, such as the boatman Cadu (Rodrigo Santoro), who needs the snail to get in touch with his harmful masculinity, and the nun Roberta (Miriam Socarras), also representing the exploitation of faith that’s common throughout the country.

Surprising and thought-provoking, the film was widely applauded and awarded at a time when Brazilian cinema is, fortunately, in the spotlight. We hope that it can spread its message of hope in our country, at a time when Brazilians need it so much.

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