The TIFF Film Review: Gail Maurice’s “Blood Lines“
By Ross
The music instantly engages, as Beatrice drives in, past homes both solid and teepeed. This compelling second feature from writer and director Gail Maurice (“Rosie“) unpacks a nuanced relational dynamic within attuned performances that are as natural as the environment that surrounds “Blood Lines.” The story seeps into our “Eager Beaver” construct, telling an endearing lesbian romantic tale without making sexual orientation something to be discussed or debated, while also layering in a mother/daughter conflict that goes far deeper than one could ever imagine from that first stubborn crow standoff.
One of the film’s more striking framings is the organic way the characters interact around sexuality and romance. Surrounded and immersed in a celebration of Métis culture, with heartfelt interactions unfolding in the Michif language —a language with only about 1,130 speakers worldwide— the slowly brewing attachment grows clear and profound. Romance is unveiled with little to no framing around sexual orientation. It is handled as simply and naturally as if the couple in question were heterosexual. In that way, the societal framing recalls “Schitt’s Creek“, which always made a point of not addressing the societal complications of sexual orientation outside heteronormative constructs, integrating queer characters into the narrative naturally, as a non-issue, rather than focusing on struggle or tragedy. Moreover, the film doesn’t feel the need to explore, unpack, or explain the attraction between these beautifully crafted women.
But it does address a deeper, more complex issue around the shameful legacy of government-sanctioned cultural erasure through the forced separation of Indigenous children from their families. As a social worker of Indigenous descent, I feel a heavy discomfort engaging with this history, when social workers tore children from their mothers, placing them in white homes or Residential Schools in a cruel attempt to destroy Indigenous culture and language. Maurice intuitively weaves this trauma into the sharply written narrative, making the film equally informative and emotionally raw and true.
Centering the action around an upcoming Métis Day festival, a small town reporter and store clerk, Beatrice, played marvelously honest and earthbound by Dana Solomon, is quickly smitten by a young woman who arrives in her Métis community hoping to find her biological family while also working as a horseback riding guide locally. Beatrice dons her reporter’s cap to engage with Chani, played organically by Derica Lafrance, and tries to help her find her biological mother. But it’s really about finding the opportunity to spend time with the young woman. We feel their chemistry almost from the get-go, even if Lafrance’s first interactions with the reporter come off a touch abrupt or caustic.
Hovering in the background of this Métis same-sex romance, quite literally out back in the shed, is Beatrice’s mother, Léonore, naturally portrayed by director Maurice. She has now returned after abandoning her daughter years before due to the intense, unyielding grip of alcohol that had a merciless hold on her when Beatrice was quite young. She ran away, leaving Beatrice to be raised by her grandmother, and in its attachment place, a strong current of distrust and resentment has grown in Beatrice against her now sober mother. Reluctant to form a new bond, her resentment is easily ignited when pushed or triggered. As we watch the drama unfold, guided by a chorus of older Métis women collectively known as “The Grannies,” the personal and cultural trauma clash hard between almost all who stand within this tightly bound community.
In the end, “Blood Lines” flows true and dangerous, birthing a profound journey and exploration of family bonds, and all those unspoken ties, buried regrets, and the unbreakable hope for forgiveness. Maurice’s delicate and honest storytelling, woven intricately with Métis history and resilience, reminds us that even after years of silence and heartbreak, reconciliation is possible. The film is an act of courage that can heal old wounds and reveal unexpected truths, both delicate and emotionally connecting, full of surprising twists rooted in a rich Indigenous tapestry. “Blood Lines” flows beautifully as both a tender but complicated romance and a searing act of familial and cultural reclamation—reminding us that forgiveness, though sometimes difficult, is ultimately honest, yet fragile, carrying the power to heal generations and personal desires.
