Berlinale Review: Gabriel Mascaro's The Blue Trail Embarks on a Vibrant Journey Along the Amazon River

      The Blue Trail, the vibrant new film by Gabriel Mascaro, derives its title from the secretions of a legendary snail. This azure substance, known for its ability to grant visions of the future when applied to the iris, is met with notable indifference by Tereza (Denise Weinberg), a woman of a certain age who, due to recent government pressures, has decided that contemplating the future is of little value. The film unfolds in a near-future Brazil, where the elderly are subjected to a harsh mix of state control and uninterested family members. In Tereza's reality, departing from one’s residence necessitates a permission slip, and those without such documentation are collected in what are referred to as “Wrinkle Wagons.” Those fortunate enough to celebrate their 80th birthday, which Tereza is approaching, are sent to The Colonies: a mysterious place that no one seems to know much about, except that those who go there do not return.

      This sets the stage for Mascaro’s fourth narrative feature, which soon transforms into an engaging adventure down the Amazon River—a road movie in which Tereza finds renewed joy in life. The Brazilian director first gained recognition a decade ago with August Winds and Neon Bull, followed by Divine Love, which retained the visual beauty of his previous works but became somewhat weighed down by its own messages. Making its debut a month after Bolsonaro became President, Divine Love may be forgiven for being overly dramatic. In Blue Trail, Mascaro revisits a similarly dystopian future, yet this time the world he presents feels authentic, layered, and unmistakably human. As we follow Tereza through various escapades, you begin to hope for her happiness—and you might even find yourself wishing to join her.

      Reflecting on The Blue Trail’s hints of emerging fascism, I was reminded of Chie Hayakawa’s Plan 75, which depicts a near-future Japan where the aging population is managed via a supposedly voluntary euthanasia program. The themes and worries are similar here; however, the tone of Mascaro’s film is quite distinct. Throughout her journey of rediscovery, Tereza encounters a boat captain with a fondness for drugs, an engineer trying to repair a super-light plane (which, unfortunately, we never see fly), and an eccentric female peer who makes her living selling digital bibles, prompting Tereza to rediscover life's finest pleasures.

      Any film aspiring to achieve what Mascaro does here, particularly one created by someone significantly younger than its protagonist, risks coming across as patronizing or exploitative. Nonetheless, The Blue Trail largely sidesteps this danger, despite some initial lightheartedness. Credit goes to both Weinberg’s straightforward portrayal and the director’s surrealist approach. A noteworthy scene features Tereza visiting a floating casino, which includes some of the most visually stunning images I have seen this year.

      The Blue Trail made its debut at the 2025 Berlinale.