
It is apologetically unsentimental, whilst being evocative and abiding. Though the film does not wallow in unceasing misery, it does not indulge in whimsy or try to make light of an issue that is undoubtedly worrying to us all. Miguel, for instance, disengages himself psychologically from ‘upstairs’ – as if ignoring it will make it go away – whilst witnessing consecutive roommates making their slow and, it feels to him, inevitable, way up there. The film’s perspective of ‘upstairs’, the upper floor where older people with more advanced dementia are segregated from the other residents, is a reminder of the multi-layered nature of elderly care. It grapples with ideas of suicide, of regret about being a burden. It guides us through the apprehension that younger people feel about the prospect of getting older, of losing ‘our marbles’ and our friends. Through expertly-crafted characters, the film allows us to explore the powerful feelings of guilt that the rest of us feel about older people having to relinquish their independence and freedom by entering residential care. Miguel is not an object of pity, but a sneaky con-artist, who spends his days purloining money from his fellow residents. Instead, with a quiet respectfulness, Ferreras allows us to take a glimpse into the imaginary lives of Emilio and Miguel, the very three-dimensional characters in this two-dimensional animation. Neither is it judgemental of those people who take the important, and necessary, decision to place their loved-ones in residential care. Though Ignacio Ferreras’ work depicts a bleakness in residential care, it is not damning of the homes that it represents, nor the human beings who manage or work in these places. The emotions that the film stimulates are ones that I needed to confront. And where it is heart-breaking, it is inspiring. However, ‘Wrinkles’ – based on a comic by Paco Roca – is not unpleasant, even if it is heart-breaking.
