And so, building on the original idea of Darío, Trudi, who had never before participated in the making of a movie and who, she has confessed in a certain interview, did not know that she not only had to find a camera person but also a sound person, gave herself over to the task of forming a production team that on one good day, the 27th of march 2018, accompanied Darío and his family, from the Sierra of San Francisco to La Paz, a journey of 350 km in the span of 20 days. We indeed have before us an exulting muleteer chronicle, filmed under the open sky and under the stars, between rocky trails and rattlesnakes, crossing deserts and dining on dried meat around a campfire, a historic journey in which 5 muleteers, atop their choice riding animals, took on 10 pack donkeys 40 kilos of dates, 40 kilos of cheese, 40 kilos of sugarcane candy, and 50 liters of Comondú wine, just to cover the costs.

La Recua presents itself as an unusual documentary film on two accounts. First of all, for the anthropological rescue of an activity that had disappeared over a century ago: the fabrication of all the leather gear that was made by don Darío himself, the selection of the self-same pack goods – the dates from the desert, the aged cheese, the traditional candy known to these regions by the suggestive name of panocha, the wine from Comondú that is traditionally pressed-, the exclusive use of donkeys and mules to pack the goods and, of course, the route itself, the ancient Camino Real, those dusty and rocky trails that one day were crossed by indigenous folk and jesuits and across which, once in a while, will appear a water well here or a stream there, to calm the thirst of both human and noble beast. And something else as well: that completely genuine ranch dialect that all of the participants entone, that song that is sung around the campfire (“La de la Mochila Azul” no less), that riddle that is released to capture our attention (“What is it that is in everything?”), that moth-eaten meat burnt in the fire that must be marvelous after an extenuating journey.

The second instance, that which does not appear on the screen, but is present outside of it, is almost as fascinating as the documentary that we are watching. Here we have, as well, an unexpected major work of documentary film directed by two debuting filmmakers in their golden years -she of 65 and he of 70- who have not made a single movie before this but let themselves be blanketed by a team of three photographers, two sound experts, and two editors, to give testimony of a truth that although quite evident is forgotten once and again. Not only is a good idea necessary – the one from don Darío-, not only is good will necessary – that of Trudi Angell-, and not only is the technical talent of those behind cameras the only factors. It is the confluence of all of the above that produces a good movie and what everyone involved accomplished with this enchanting documentary film is pure magic.

Beyond the probable Guiness record that La Recua might achieve (is there another full-length documentary directed by two golden age debutantes?), the value of this notable film is, on one side, the loving and idealized rescue of a begone activity and, on the other side, the mysterious testimony that is embodied by the making of the film itself. There, where you least expect it, bounds the hare of good film. “Que lindeza!” Don Dario would say, “What a beauty!”