Summer 1993

Summer 1993

Summer 1993

Summer 1993

A brilliant exploration of humanity and the struggles of a little girl that has faced loss. Frida's battle with trying to fit into a nuclear family and desire to be loved is desperately sad, it's relieving the arc changes into soothing catharsism. The acting in the film was so authentic, during some parts I felt like I was watching a documentary. Summer 1993 is slow paced, gentle and naturally lit film depicting loss, family and childhood struggles. Beautiful.

Self-indulgent, entirely predictable, dialogue-heavy film. Not redommended unless you enjoyed 'Winter Sleep'.

One of the most boring films i have ever seen... typical spanish movie.

Carla Simón doesn't need a grand piano to thrill. A priori, Summer 1993 is simple and - for those of us who were born a little later - chronologically alien. It has neither unexpected script twists nor sudden conflicts beyond the one already given. However, it is never boring and was a candidate to represent Spain at the Oscars. This happens because we should not demand from Summer 1993 the same as from any other film. It is a daily, natural and own story - according to its director, autobiographical - but it appeals to an inherent and universal feeling in the human being: mourning. He does it through Frida (Laia Artigas), a six-year-old orphan girl, who begins to live with her uncles in the countryside after the death of her mother. As an example. At some point, Anna (Paula Robles), Frida's little cousin, invites her to call her mother. Frida accesses the game, dials a number, and holds the phone to her ear, as if really waiting for an answer. At that point, we expect it too. What's more, even the sound of the phone picking up on the other side rings in our heads. In this case, in a great -but simple- script exercise, Simón is making us take metaphysical awareness of death from the perspective of a little girl: absence. And we all feel that. And it is that the film magnifies itself in its particular way of being. The plans work psychologically, they introduce us to the girl's head and make us participants in her vision of the world; a vision affected by a trauma that remains expressionless - but perfectly represented - until the end of the film. In this sense, it is worth highlighting the contained performance of Artigas and the complicity that she maintains with the rest of the cast. Summer 1993 is a film in which there is no more than what you see, but you don't need it because you are very clear about what you want to tell. Tender, pretty and thoughtful, she makes it inevitable to share with Frida the emotion of that final scene that, although expected, is hopelessly powerful. And, like the film itself, it does not need external elements, neither music nor other shots. It is enough for her to touch - or to have touched, at this point - the necessary keys for it to work.

I give this movie a ten star rating. I suspect it will be remembered as a classic. The general feeling of the film and six year old Freda (Laia Artigas) remind me of The Spirit of the Beehive and Anna Torrent. Apparently other reviewers have felt the same. The film is perfectly and beautifully directed and filmed. The film is intimate, as if I am one of the characters in a family trying to raise a niece whose mother has just died of what in the early 90's was a mysterious disease. I could feel Freda's loneliness, pain, confusion and fear as well as her kind aunt and uncle's failure to breakthrough the child's depression. There is an undercurrent of fear that three year old Anna (Paula Robles) will fall victim to one of Freda's sometimes strange behaviors. The disease isn't specifically named but it is thought to be spread by touching the blood of someone who has it, that Freda might have it and accidentally spread it around the playground or to her new little sister. Freda is mystified by this, as well as a strange statue of the Virgin Mary in a nook of the forest. These sorts of scenes are to me much more spine-chilling than a bunch of boring, idiotic weirdly dressed super-heroes/action celebrities killing each other. There are plenty of the joys of childhood that are shared and balance the film.: Eating ice pops, learning to swim, taking the training wheels off of her bicycle, or the two little girls playing together around the farm, woods and farmhouse. In sum: A lovely film destined to become a classic intimate portrait of childhood.

Carla Simon's well-observed tale of a young girl who's orphaned and forced to move into her uncle's home. Frida (Laia Artigas ) is the girl and her uncle Esteve (David Verdaguer) has a wife Marga (Bruna Cusi) and an even younger daughter Anna (Paula Robles). Frida's mother's passing of an "illness" isn't defined at the outset, but, the constant medical tests the young girl has to be subjected to and the panic that ensues when she bleeds on a playground give you a pretty good idea of what will be revealed (not to mention setting it 25 years ago). But, SUMMER 1993 isn't really about that topic, it's more about coping without parents, and trying to blend in with her uncle's family. It's often awkward, and even painful, but it's never less than perceptive even if it never quite reaches the next level. The movie's path never seems in doubt, no matter the obstacles put in the characters' way. The music selections are interesting and unexpected with touches of soulful jazz. The ending concludes on a different note than one might forsee - but, it's just about right. This was Spain's official submission for the Foreign Language Oscar last year (it was not nominated or short-listed).

Boxes are stacked in the living room of six-year-old Frida's (Laia Artigas) house as she prepares to go and live with her Uncle Esteve (David Verdaguer, "Anchor and Hope") and Aunt Marga (Bruna Cusi, "Uncertain Glory") after the death of her mother. Spain's submission for Best Foreign Film at the 2018 Oscars, director Carla Simón's autobiographical Summer 1993 (Estiu 1993) is a sensitive and nuanced hymn to childhood whose magic is interrupted by the sudden dark intrusions of the adult world. As the foundations of six-year-old Frida's belief in the world as a safe place are shattered, she must come to terms with living with a new set of parents in a rural Catalan village far removed from the city of Barcelona in which she grew up. Calling on her childhood recollections, Simón's film consists of vignettes focusing on Frida's ability to adjust to her profoundly changed life. The relationship between Frida and her three-year-old cousin Anna (Paula Robles) alternates between the joy of spontaneous play, and Frida's acting out her grief in ways that threaten Anna's well being. From having fun playing in the bathtub to play acting as grown-ups and to joining a local Basque Carnival, the performances are so natural that they seem improvised. Though Esteve and Marga are warm people who are generous in their love, Frida is tentative and withdrawn. A visit to a doctor for testing show their concern about Frida carrying the AIDS virus (which it is hinted her mother died from), but the significance of the visit does not register on the child. Emotions bubbling beneath the surface do not appear until a visit by Frida's grandparents Avi and Avia (Fermí Reixach, "Night and Day," TV series and Isabel Rocatti, "El dia de mañana," TV series). Prompted by her grandmother's focus on praying, Frida sneaks out of the house at night to leave gifts for her mother in the woods near the statue of the Virgin Mary, but confides in no one. The grandparent's visit is traumatic for Frida, however. Despite their disparaging comments about their daughter's lifestyle expressed in Frida's presence, she desperately wants to go home with them and has to be physically restrained by her uncle. As her anger begins to surface, Frida uses Anna as a target of her distress, telling her cousin that she has so many dolls because her parents loved her so much. She also encourages Anna to jump into a pool with her even though she knows the water is above her head. In an even scarier incident, Frida leaves Anna by herself in the woods, telling her to wait there until she comes back. When she doesn't return, Marga panics while Anna falls and breaks her arm causing Marga to say that Frida is used to getting her own way and needs greater discipline, telling Esteve, "That girl has no morals." Having overheard the conversation, Frida decides to run away, heartbreakingly telling Anna that "no one loves me here." Led by Artigas' remarkably expressive performance, Simón guides the film to its stunning conclusion with a sure hand that avoids sentimentality, relying only on the resilience of childhood innocence and the impeccable strength of love to achieve its results.