Taking place within Argentina’s great depression in 2001, Laura Casabé’s The Virgin of the Quarry Lake is an intriguing effort at blending various styles, themes, and points of entry, and it’s due to her control over tone and composition that it’s a mostly successful enterprise. Teenager Natalia, along with two of her closest friends, all seem to have raging crushes on their childhood friend Diego, and this precarious scenario is yet further ruptured one hot summer when a cool older woman, Silvia, begins to seduce Diego. At the same time, a homeless man is beaten outside Natalia’s home, and leaves his cart of belongings there, dripping with what seems to be blood. Natalia comes to see this as a curse, perhaps manifesting itself in the form of Silvia, and she begins to exhibit an aggressive form of witchcraft to exert her will over the world.
There are a few extremely abrasive moments of surprise violence among the otherwise fairly muted story, including a shocking hit-and-run. But thanks to Casabé’s careful handling, alongside a savvy script by Benjamin Naishtat, these moments land as intended, heightening our awareness that Natalia, while suffering from the understandable throes of teenage jealousy and intensity, is capable of inflicting true horrors all her own. Naishat makes use of this volatile political and economic moment in Argentina to ratchet the tension even higher, as power outages run rampant and the news media turns hysterical. 2001 also reflects a particular moment in the evolution of the Internet, and so the teens are seen communicating via AIM chats accessed at dimly-lit Internet cafes. More than mere period reference, however, this time capsule texture provides further layers of specificity to those coming of age in this time and place, all of them struggling to make sense of the larger world and themselves at the same time.
Still, there are times when The Virgin of Quarry Lake’s hazy aesthetic risks downshifting the momentum, even in a film that barely pushes past 90 minutes. Dolores Oliverio, the newcomer who plays Natalia, is deeply expressive and certainly holds the camera’s attention with the appropriate force, but there are some choices Casabé makes — including an over-reliance on using animal noises in the sound design to signify Natalia’s inner turmoil, as well as a finale that somehow feels not gory enough, where one senses the director’s fear to push even further — that suggest a slight weakness in imagination. Still, some small qualms aside, The Virgin of Quarry Lake is an effective work of storytelling that fruitfully captures the curdling rage of growing up as the world around you burns.
Published as part of Fantasia Fest 2025 — Dispatch 6.
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