When I read some of the blurb for Imperial Blue and saw that its story revolved around drug use, I expected to get one of two things: either a brutal crime drama, where cartel is pitched against cartel, or else a surreal, even overblown imagining of substance abuse on-screen. In truth, Imperial Blue contains some aspects of each of those, but it certainly doesn’t fall neatly into either category. Instead, it’s a deeply character-centred tale, where we follow the fortunes of someone we most likely aren’t intended to like very much. Drugs might be the nexus here, but really this is all about a stranger in a strange land, unable and largely unwilling to curtail his own ego in his pursuit of illicit thrills and illicit money. Along the way, he creates great waves of havoc, crashing headlong into a foreign culture with little care for the impact. It’s an unsettling viewing experience, and no doubt it’s meant to be.
The film starts in India, with a drug deal which introduces us to our main character Hugo (Nicolas Fagerberg): Hugo is a foreigner, clearly invested in shifting pretty large amounts of various substances, and interested in the ‘next big thing’. He’s introduced to a rare Ugandan blue powder known as ‘bulu’; said to give its users the ability to see into the future, Hugo’s other contacts tell him it’s incredibly hard to find. But, alas, before he can procure any more, there’s a surprise police raid. Hugo escapes intact, but with a sizeable loss of his boss’s money. With little else to lose, he decides to sample the bulu he managed to retain. True enough, it gives him a sequence of unsettling visions, some of which clue him in to imminent events – enabling him to catch up with the guy he suspects rumbled the deal, for instance, because as he hallucinates, he sees where to find him. An abortive homecoming in London follows, but it’s clear that Hugo isn’t welcome at the home of his wife and son and he isn’t flavour of the month with his boss either: his only option is to go on the road again, track down some bulu and get it back into the UK to sell against his significant debt. His boss gives him a fortnight to sort it out.
Meanwhile, in Uganda, the young woman Hugo sees in his vision is very real. Kisakye (Esther Tebandeke) lives in a remote rural area called Makaana. Her father – himself a bulu user and a noted visionary – has just passed away, leaving her suddenly open to eviction by the formidable Pastor Issac and his cronies, who say that they now own the land Kisakye lives on. Kisakye knows how to harvest and prepare bulu; doing so to sell in the nearest large town seems the only way forward for her. Seeking her sister Angela’s help there, Kisakye leaves her village. The stage is set for her to meet Hugo, and an uneasy relationship develops between all three of them – Hugo, Angela and Kisakye – as they each do everything they can to maintain personal control.
There is a real sense of the remoteness of Makaana in the film – it was shot in Kampala, Uganda – and the use of landscape and location helps to underline the sense of Hugo being a complete stranger in this environment. Nor does he in any way seem to measure his behaviour accordingly, seeming for all the world to be eternally arrogant and brash, unable to predict any of the trouble or trials his presence causes: even with a substance which enables him to see into the future, his obsession is how his fortunes fit into that future, rather than particularly how it affects anyone or anything else. Whilst some of the proselytising speeches about the white man and colonialism ring hollow here, the film otherwise makes its case for Hugo being a selfish impediment to life in Makaana, even when he tries – justifiably at times – to help people. The symbolism is crushingly clear. In comparison to the Ugandan cast, Nicolas Fagerberg plays Hugo loud and emphatic, which also emphasises his differences; the rest of the cast, with particular mention to Esther Tebandeke and to Rehema Nanfuka as the worldly-wise Angela, play their roles notably differently, with Tebandeke giving an absolutely engaging, often understated performance which sustains the believability of this young woman’s predicament – now both vulnerable to destitution, and tainted by association with the drug-addled visitor to her village.
Furthermore, the dramatic interplay between Angela and Kisakye – two very different women who have each chosen a different path and lifestyle – lends the film an added level of engagement. It’s interesting and plausible; one young woman has thrown herself into the hedonism which city life offers, whilst the other clings to the traditions and the places which underpinned her earliest years, even when those things have stopped offering her uncomplicated support. Hugo’s presence is the catalyst for what ensues between them, with their relationship undergoing more trials and tribulations because of him. Hugo himself is often oddly aimless through all of this; his mission to source the drug and leave is seemingly quickly forgotten, his preference seemingly to watch what will happen in his life through a haze of narcotics, rather than take action. If we are ‘architects of our own destinies’, then Hugo is more of a witness to his. Perhaps surprisingly, the film doesn’t stray too far into determinism territory; it’s really left to the audience to decide how Hugo really fits in to his world, and how responsible he is for his own destiny. Accordingly, the visions themselves are well-handled, not too schlocky and not too obvious.
Imperial Blue – as clear from the title – offers an intriguing story about human vulnerabilities, and how these play out when strained, unlikely circumstances come into play, but it also works on a more symbolic level too. Through his own selfish pursuits, Hugo represents far more than a mere drug dealer and the film’s interweaving of location, culture, entitlement and the notion of destiny leads to a thought-provoking story.
Imperial Blue will screen as part of the Raindance Film Festival 2019 on 20th and 22nd September. For more details, please click here.