When was the last time that you were on a beach? The answer will vary from person to person, but as someone who lives near the coast in the Pacific Northwest, the idea of not regularly encountering a beach or shoreline is practically unfathomable to me. Taking in the sound of waves and wildlife is a privilege I admittedly often take for granted. When an inmate at a Pacific Northwest prison is asked in the opening of the short film Blue Room when the last time was that they were on a beach, their answer is swift: “it’s been about three years,” they say, as if it is a top-of-mind disappointment. “It’s been a long time.”

It’s not just the beach that these inmates are deprived of during their incarceration. Forests. Rivers. Mountains. Fields of tulips. Even the stars, as one subject in the film explains. Nature is out of reach for this population confined within the blandness of tall barbed wire fences and gray concrete walls, as depicted in Blue Room’s documentation of everyday life in prison. So the disheartening tone in the voices of inmates interviewed makes even more sense with that context. The Pacific Northwest, after all, is home to some of the most wonderful outdoor experiences. So close to these inmates, yet entirely unattainable.

Their only escape: looping video and audio recordings of nature.

With testimony from various inmates and footage of what life in a penitentiary looks like, Blue Room toggles most of its 12 minute runtime between the audio/visual experience of incarceration and the audio/visual experience of virtual nature. Whether in group sessions, independently in a room, or with an ASMR-like immersion through headphones, inmates use looping media to replicate the sensation of being in nature. No, watching and listening to videos of nature is not the same as actually being in it, but it’s the closest these inmates can get to escaping the humdrum-ness of jail, if only for a brief period of time.

Just like how watching footage of nature is meditative for the inmates, the documentary short itself becomes a meditative experience for the audience. There is very little music to accompany the extended shots or pad the mix of harsh background noises and chatter. There’s no overlaid narration to belabor the point. No on-screen name pop ups identifying a speaker to disrupt the vibe. The minimalism of Blue Room speaks volumes about the isolating conditions inmates endure, the effect that has on their mental health, and how important nature is to our psyche.

Through her filmmaking, director Merete Mueller proves to be a purveyor of important and en vogue subject matters. Like how her documentary feature TINY: A Story About Living Small came in 2013 in the midst of increased interest in tiny home living and her short film Dangerous Curves came in 2016 as society began embracing body positivity, Blue Room surfaces now at an appropriate time where mindfulness about mental health awareness continues to grow. The approach - to find calm and serenity in an otherwise restless and unsettling environment - makes for an immersive and contemplative experience.

For Blue Room’s editor Isidore Bethel, this type of filmmaking is something he is well versed in. Last year, his editing work on the short film Some Kind of Intimacy helped in bringing the inexplicable connection people can have with nature to the forefront of a story about grief. And his own Hot Docs selected feature length documentary Acts of Love aptly explores his own introspection and connection to others. Bethel brings his experience with meditativeness, introspection, and intangible connections to his editing with Blue Room, and once again, it all works beautifully in supporting the main focus of this film.

Similar to how Apichatpong Weerasethakul brings the meditative experience of Memoria to a close, Blue Room concludes with long stationary takes and ambient sounds. But in this production, it’s not just for meditation that the film lingers on various shots in its finale. There’s an engenius contrast that occurs in a shift from the mundane interior and constant low key humming of the correctional institution to the luscious view of a forest and the symphony of its wildlife. It’s at this moment when the need for nature and the serenity it can provide becomes abundantly clear, for inmates and for audiences alike, and I personally gain a greater appreciation for the nature I am surrounded by every day.

Acting and Casting - 2 | Visual Effects and Editing - 2 | Story and Message - 2 | Entertainment Value - 1 | Music Score and Soundtrack - 1 | Reviewer's Preference - 2 | What does this mean?