Forastera Review: Engaging Drama Examines the Value of Life

      It begins as a joke. Pepa (Núria Prims) calls to apologize to her mother, believing she is speaking to her on the other end. Her teenage daughter Cata (Zoe Stein) plays along, pretending to respond as her grandmother would, until Pepa finally realizes and calls her out by name. However, when this happens again, Catalina (Marta Angelat) has passed away. Yet, instead of sharing this information with the hairdresser, Cata pretends once more to be her grandmother to cancel the appointment and reassure her that she'll call soon for a touch-up.

      Why? Because Cata isn't prepared to say goodbye to her grandmother. They were very close, having spent summers together at her beach house in Mallorca. They share the same name, and people frequently comment on how alike they look. This resemblance has led Pepa to ask her not to wear any of Catalina’s clothes while at the property, just in case her grandfather Tomeu (Lluís Homar) sees her. He is deeply affected by this loss—often speaking of her lingering spirit. Seeing Cata in one of his wife’s dresses might just add to his confusion.

      What Pepa doesn’t realize is that Cata needs this confusion in order to avoid confronting reality. She was the one who discovered her grandmother facedown on the stone stairs. She’s the one grappling with PTSD whenever she sees a drunken co-ed lying on the beach. If Cata can persuade her grandfather to see her as Catalina, then the rest of their summer can persist as usual. There is even a sense of healing in the pretense that helps bring Tomeu out of his grief, but they both must eventually confront what has happened.

      Lucía Aleñar Iglesias’ *Forastera* tracks Cata as she navigates her changed reality against the backdrop of what was once a carefree vacation with Swedish tourist Max (Nonni Ardal Hammarström) and her usual antics with her grandparents. Suddenly, with her grandmother gone and her mother back, the arguments and emotions she and her younger sister Eva previously ignored become too much for Cata, who starts to take on a matriarchal role to maintain her sanity. She is right in many situations, enough that her elders cease to insist she mind her tone.

      It's hard for all of them. None knows how they should feel, as they’re often preoccupied with how the others feel. Tomeu wants to sulk in the current sadness. Pepa wants to take charge and plan for the future. Cata wishes to freeze time and return to the past. The contrasts lead to rising tensions, and they begin to resent each other’s perspectives instead of sitting down to listen. If this family has a singular trait, it’s their stubbornness.

      What makes the drama truly compelling is that Cata's desire to channel her grandmother's spirit is not purely intentional. Indeed, she puts herself in situations that would alarm any mother regarding boundaries with a grieving man, but there’s a sweetness in many moments, even as she seems unable to prevent them. Cata doesn’t actively seek out the traumatic experience that caused Catalina to never swim in the Mediterranean again; it simply finds her, accompanied by a senseless brutality.

      *Forastera* is very much a coming-of-age tale, despite its unconventional catalyst being the sorrow of death. By embodying her grandmother, Cata appears to mature overnight, refusing to tolerate her grandfather’s chauvinism or her mother’s self-centeredness. She embraces the role of caretaker after Pepa hires someone to help around the house and rejects being a reckless teenager focused on boys and drinking. This summer marks a crucial turning point for Cata as she learns to appreciate the value of life and the complexities of love.

      The film is beautifully shot, featuring exotic landscapes enhanced by recently installed glass railings on the terrace that provide an unobstructed view of the sea. Iglesias incorporates imaginative visuals in various scenes that create space for supernatural elements, such as ants on the ceiling and reflective ghosts of light. The performances also balance on the brink of unraveling, so that even a slight push can bring characters to confront their own misbehavior. The line between frustration and repentance is always close.

      Homar perfectly captures Tomeu’s grief and his desire for isolation, which he acknowledges is not healthy. This is why he needs Cata’s charade to help pull him away from the abyss of despair that follows an unexpected loss. She, whether consciously or not, guides him through this process, providing the strength to push boundaries while also allowing space to recognize when things have gone too far. It’s a remarkable breakthrough performance, layering emotions as she becomes a vessel for her grandmother's spirit and the enduring love that remains.

      *Forastera* opens in theaters on Friday, May 29.