Director: Laura Casabe
Writer: Benjamín Naishtat
Stars: Fernanda Echevarría, Dady Brieva, Dolores Oliveiro
Synopsis: Follows a jealous girl who enlists the help of magic to interfere with a relationship involving the apple of her eye.
With the opening scene of The Virgin of the Quarry Lake, director Laura Casabé pulls her audience in with a question. It’s a simple one at face value: can’t we ever have a moment to ourselves? It’s incredibly relatable regardless of what age the viewer might be. But for a teenager, in this case, Natalia (Dolores Oliverio), this question is one that becomes more and more layered the longer the film plays out. Those tuning into The Virgin of the Quarry Lake expecting a coming-of-age film will certainly get one. But excitingly, there’s a lot more present in this film than it initially leads on. What begins with such a common occurrence morphs quickly into something sinister. It’s this undercurrent that bubbles up into a larger problem which can’t be ignored that Casabé hinges her film on. She, and screenwriter Benjamín Naishtat, do so by linking the two cruxes of the film together. The first is the emotional element of it all: Natalia, or Nati, is on the cusp of finally coming into her own. The second is the time and place during which this film is set: 2001, during the Argentinian economic crisis. By wrapping these dilemmas up amongst one another, Casabé’s film has as much to say about a single individual as it does an entire society. The commonality linking the two dramatically? Apathy.
Nati is taking a bath when the film begins. What should be a calm release is instead intruded on by yelling that only becomes more pervasive. As she comes to learn, there’s a displaced individual relieving himself in the middle of the street. Before anything can even be processed or next steps can be taken, a man from the neighborhood begins brutally attacking the individual. It’s a jarring shock for Nati that catapults her back to reality. But for the viewer, it takes us elsewhere. It’s such a clearly unjust and upsetting reaction. Captured with such a cold lens, we very quickly want it to end. But Casabé doesn’t let us off the hook that easily. It’s only after Nati pleads to her grandmother to stop the violent perpetrator that the film eases up its instantaneous grip on us. This is an event that nobody would ever want to confront; it’s now something that cannot ever be forgotten. How long has this been going on that somebody could have such an explosive reaction to an unfortunate situation? The scarier thought is, “What if this was the first time?” It’s an opening sequence that sets your expectations on edge. With a surreal quality to it, it’s made all the more strange by the next scenes following Nati as if it never occurred. She’s in chat rooms with friends, listening to music, hanging out at the public pool. But it’s in this tonal back-and-forth that slowly blurs the divide between one another that Casabé finds the thrill that sustains her film.
It becomes clear during the course of The Virgin of the Quarry Lake that Casabé wants to examine the breaking point of both an individual and of a society. And the pair of these come about by a group of people that are both apathetic and frightened. During the period in which this film is set, Nati’s neighborhood is beset by frequent blackouts, rationed water, and lack of government assistance. In the few instances we see neighborly interactions, they’re marked by hostility, anger, and fear set back onto Nati. It’s not always entirely out of malice, but out of worry and anger that nothing is going to be as okay as they’d hoped. In turn, this feeling of isolation and what almost feels like entitlement, is a lens that Nati is beginning to see the world through. Casabé uses violence sparingly in this film, but makes sure it feels explosive upon its arrival. It not only jolts the viewer to attention, but directly calls attention to what Casabé feels we are teaching a younger generation. At one point, Nati tells a young boy her grandmother has taken in that “life is crap.” For the adults in her life, it most certainly is. And Nati is beginning to feel that, because of her own problems, coupled with where she’s living, this is true. Oliverio’s performance seems to reckon with what should matter most. But just because there’s turmoil going on in the economy doesn’t mean Nati’s personal struggles are any less valid.
The Virgin of the Quarry Lake primarily follows a group of friends who have known each other for quite some time. As they spend the summer together, it’s clear that the three girls and their beloved Diego (Agustín Sosa) have had little trouble operating as a unit. It’s not until Silvia (Fernanda Echevarría), a woman a decade their senior, swoops in and invades their group hangouts. It’s done in the most annoying way possible; through bragging about how worldly and well-traveled she is, alongside displaying all the excellent music taste and easy access she has at clubs and concerts. There’s a comedic take on this behavior, simply because we all know somebody a bit like Silvia. But more than anything, it’s embarrassing and upsetting. The former is felt when remembering Silvia’s audience is made up of high-schoolers. The latter is felt in that, despite both audience and characters understanding Silvia is showboating, Nati can’t help but feel envious of her standing. It’s working on Diego, whom she has more than a small crush on. The core trio of young women at the center of the film are cool! They roll as one, sharing expensive pairs of jeans, going to clubs in the city, doing everything together like any member of a tight-knit group fundamentally understands. So to see Silvia get under Nati’s skin so deeply is upsetting, and unwarranted in the sense that Silvia feels lesser than in their presence. But even so, Nati’s feelings shouldn’t be minimized! Casabé shows her audience what would happen should somebody try to do so. At such a young age, these emotions we have bottled up within perhaps matter most; it’s because they’re all we have.
By the time we arrive at the exciting climax of The Virgin of the Quarry Lake, the emotions that have been brewing the entire film are unleashed. Importantly, it’ll be understood by the audience. Casabé and Naishtat steadily build wilder genre elements into the foundation of the film before wholly committing. It’s an exciting feat in practice. Instead of opting for a full lean into overblown fantastical elements, the film operates more like a powder keg. It raises a question that Casabé and Naishtat are clearly interested in: Do we become who we grow up to be of our own accord? Or is it a mixture of the people we are surrounded by, the experiences we live through, and the setting we come of age in? It’s not quite nature versus nurture, but rather, whether or not we are willing to let ourselves be transformed by the world around us. How this film goes about examining the dilemma of transformation Nati and her friends face may be rocky at times in terms of character development, but as far as leaning completely into the conceit of the film goes, it’s an exciting venture. Ultimately, this acceptance comes at a price, and The Virgin of the Quarry Lake questions whether or not it’s worth paying.
The Virgin of the Quarry Lake is celebrating its world premiere at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival in the World Cinema Dramatic Competition category.
