Aging is probably one of the scariest things about life. One day you are full of youth, vigor, and the power to fulfill your idealistic thoughts, and the next you are dependent on those around you. But given how inevitable the whole process is (maybe that tech billionaire, Bryan Johnson, who is trying to practically achieve immortality, will beg to differ), the only thing we can do is find ways to accept it. Now, I don’t know about everyone else, but I seek inspiration from movies (and my parents, of course), and I’ve figured that stories about aging fall into certain categories. There are the existential types like Ikiru, Mr. Holmes, and The Irishman, which’ll make you sad and wonder if you’ve lived a meaningful life. Then there are Coco and Creed, which show that everything that we learn in life doesn’t need to die with us; it can be passed onto the next generation. Dhai Aakhar, Vijay 69, Up, and Thelma tell us that old age can be limiting only if we allow it to be. And then there’s are things like Baghban, which can be weaponized by parents to guilt-trip their children. So, which category does the topic of today’s discussion, The Perfect Tomato, fall into? Let’s find out.
Cristobal Abugaber’s The Perfect Tomato (the Mexican title is El Tomate Perfecto) tells the story of Nacho, an aging Mexican tomato farmer who loves taking his granddaughter, Maria, with him to the tomato plantations so that she can learn about her culture and legacy. But Nacho’s daughter and Maria’s mother, Elena, isnt too fond of it because spending time at the farm distracts Maria from her schoolwork, and, unlike every other student in her class, she constantly talks about pigs and tomatoes, thereby making her the odd one out. There’s another problem too. Since Maria loves to be around Nacho and his workplace, Elena can’t go forward with her decision to move to the city and establish her pottery business with Ana. She knows that Nacho won’t leave the village and his tomato farm, and she is aware of the fact that if she severs the relationship between Nacho and Maria, then it’s going to affect the little girl pretty harshly on an emotional level. You see, Elena doesn’t know the identity of Maria’s father. So, Nacho has been the only father figure in Maria’s life. Hence, the only option for Elena and Maria is to get Nacho to change his stance. That said, since Nacho has spent his entire life in this village, he wants to spend his twilight years there too. And it’s this conflict that forms the crux of the story.
Unlike a lot of manipulative “old versus young” dramas, Abugaber doesn’t exactly pick a side in The Perfect Tomato. He doesn’t say who is right and who is wrong because, if you look at the situation from the perspective of Nacho, he is correct, and if you put yourself in Elena’s shoes, she is correct as well. For Nacho, living in the village isn’t just about comfort or being around people who know and love him. It’s about being in the atmosphere, which is eternally filled with the memories of his deceased wife, Elena’s childhood, and more. The tomatoes that he is so obsessed about aren’t just tomatoes for him; they’re a part of his identity and an extension of the culture that he has grown up with. Once he moves to the city, all that’s gone, and he is afraid that without his memories and tomatoes, he’ll be nothing. On the flipside, Elena knows that her dreams of pursuing pottery professionally can’t be pursued from the village. She is aware of the fact that Maria will have better opportunities if she studies at a school in the city. And she feels that her father will actually be able to live more comfortably where healthcare and other amenities can be availed within seconds. That said, either party doesn’t really impose their views on each other and instead allows themselves to arrive at the most amicable solution.
During the third act of The Perfect Tomato (I know it’s a short film, but even short films can have a three-act structure), Nacho realizes that even though he is mentally strong enough to continue his tomato farming, his physical state doesn’t exactly agree with him. He knows that his adamancy to stay in the village is not only going to harm him, but it’s going to make Elena and Maria anxious, especially if he forces them to leave for the city without him. At the same time, Elena feels that maybe she should be more accommodating and postpone her dreams for as long as Nacho is around. She thinks that she is putting too much trust in a market that’s extremely fickle while underestimating the stability that comes from the land she and her family have grown up on. And she also realizes that it’s possible that Maria will feel disoriented in an urban setting and the rural atmosphere will actually help her become an empathetic person. Eventually, the father-daughter duo arrives at a conclusion (that I won’t spoil) that’s sort of the best of both worlds and hence, relevant. Maybe a lot of people will disagree with me, but the COVID-19 pandemic, the rampant rise of capitalism, and the farmers’ protests have taught me that you need to build your roots in a place that welcomes you, and you must always respect them because those concrete jungles are only for the heartless. Hence, it’s nice to see a short film echoing those very sentiments.
The Perfect Tomato is a really cozy-looking film. It invites you with a warm hug, lets you marinate in its complex emotions, and then bids you goodbye in the most gentle way imaginable. The performances from the cast are simply amazing. Eligio Melendez emanates such a calming aura. I’m sure that if the whole movie was about Melendez farming tomatoes and regaling the audience with all the stories that he has collected over the years, it would’ve been an equally engaging watch. Maria Melendez is the opposite of Eligio, by design, and she portrays the chaotic nature of Elena perfectly. But instead of getting annoyed, you empathize with her because she reflects the situation that every single mother in this economy is in. Maria Fernanda Ayala, who plays Maria, is adorable, and her scenes with both Maria and Eligio are great. So, yes, The Perfect Tomato is definitely a must-watch for everyone. It beautifully encapsulates the worries that Boomers, Millennials, and Gen Z are facing while offering a solution that can seem like a compromise but isn’t one, especially in the long run. In addition to all that, I feel that the short film is touching enough to make you go hug your parent or, if you are a parent, compel you to embrace your child (even if they are a fully grown adult).
