Summer 1993

In the sweltering heat of a Catalan summer, a quiet countryside home becomes the backdrop for a delicate transition. Frida—a bright‑eyed girl freshly orphaned—has left the bustle of Barcelona to live with her new guardians, Marga and Esteve. The house, surrounded by olive groves and the distant murmur of distant festivals, offers both sanctuary and the unfamiliar rhythms of rural life. Alongside her younger sister, Anna, Frida must navigate the aching void left by their parents while learning the subtle customs that stitch a family together.

The household is a tapestry of gentle expectations and unspoken grief. Marga balances stern care with moments of tenderness, while Esteve provides a steadier, quieter presence. Grandparents visit, bringing old prayers and relics that tether Frida to memories of her mother, and the occasional warmth of a nurturing neighbour, Lola, offers a softer counterpoint to the household’s discipline. Through these relationships, the film explores how a child’s innocence confronts the weight of responsibility, and how jealousy and longing can surface even in the most loving environments.

Against this intimate domestic canvas, the film is suffused with the sounds and colors of celebration—jazz spilling from garden parties, lanterns twinkling at festive gatherings, and the aroma of communal meals that linger in the air. These joyous interludes act as brief respites, suggesting that even amidst loss, moments of togetherness can stitch fragile hearts back together. The tone remains poetic and contemplative, inviting viewers to linger in the quiet beauty of the landscape while feeling the undercurrent of a young girl’s search for belonging and the subtle promise of hope that each summer day carries.

Last Updated: November 25, 2025 at 14:49