Locarno Review: The Illusion of a Perpetual Summer Creates a Vital Representation of Life in the Pampas.

      Locarno has long been recognized as a launchpad for daring cinema, but its Filmmakers of the Present sidebar has recently become a must-see event. Modeled after Cannes’ Critics’ Week, which exclusively showcases first or second features, the last three editions have introduced exceptional films like Sophy Romvari’s Blue Heron, Courtney Stephens’ Invention, and Ruan Lan-Xi’s The Plant from the Canaries to the world. This year, the sidebar's top honor was awarded to Alessandra Sanguinetti’s The Illusion of an Everlasting Summer, a film that, along with Beatrice Gibson’s captivating autofiction movie At Night, has significantly contributed to this trend.

      Everlasting Summer is a sweeping yet emotionally engaging documentary portrait that was filmed and edited by Sanguinetti, a distinguished Magnum photographer, over a span of 25 years. The film focuses on two young girls that Sanguinetti encountered in the Argentine Pampas during the 1990s, whose lives she captured in her acclaimed 2003 book, The Adventures of Guille and Belinda and the Enigmatic Meaning of Their Dreams. This directorial debut takes us back to the period when those photographs were taken, before revealing what has transpired since.

      As the title implies and the film illustrates, aging is still a challenging process, but few have portrayed it with such thoughtfulness and precision as this. It is a joyful, playful, and poignant work that compresses 25 fleeting years into a 90-minute film, resonating with universal themes. The first half primarily explores the years depicted in the book, as Guile (the more outgoing of the two) and Belinda (who becomes increasingly reserved) transition from about 9 to 14 years old. The latter half skims through the subsequent decade rapidly, culminating when Guillermina and Belinda’s children are nearly the same age they were in Sanguinetti’s book. Time marches on, after all.

      There are echoes of Paul Almond’s Seven Up! and perhaps hints of Richard Linklater’s Boyhood here, but Everlasting Summer uniquely presents this journey through Sanguinetti’s artistic lens, resulting in consistently captivating imagery, occasionally bordering on the mythical. Much of the early footage features the girls engaging with the camera: dressing up, singing, playing pool, and answering questions about their future aspirations; in essence, typical childhood activities, yet displayed with an irresistibly candid and precocious charm. They are delightful to watch as an inseparable duo.

      At one moment, Belinda is seen dancing in a communion dress as storm clouds loom in the background. In another striking shot captured from above, the girls investigate an amniotic sac resembling a horse fetus. An impressively composed image of clouds reflecting on a reservoir evokes Matisse. In these scenes, along with one featuring horse-riding gauchos, Sanguinetti adheres to the cinematic principle about horizons that John Ford once imparted to Steven Spielberg—long before The Fabelmans served as a reminder of this concept.

      The film's allusions to classic American Western imagery seem intentional: Everlasting Summer, like its literary predecessor, aims to convey the experience of growing up as a girl in a traditionally male-dominated and often romanticized realm of Argentine cattle country. We witness Guile watching movies with her father, who casually sports a bandolier. In an early interview, she expresses her certainty that a man will leave her, shaped by the films she has seen. When Sanguinetti inquires if she enjoys being a woman, her response is affirmative: “Because men are gruff and strong and women are weak and kind.”

      As a feat of editing, Everlasting Summer is impressive, cleverly subverting the expectation set by its title. Around the one-hour mark, Guillermina briefly addresses a question regarding her pregnancy, and within four cuts (a matter of minutes), her baby has matured. This sensation of time accelerating will resonate with anyone who has children, likely echoing the experience of many others watching.

      Ultimately, the film explores how the passing years can diminish some of the fervor we once possessed, but rather than being somber, it presents an authentic portrayal. It leans heavily into lightness and humor, making Guillermina’s early sigh of regret resonate deeply. In one early interview, she reveals that her greatest wish is for "everyone to be happy" and that “there are no curses, as witches say.” Is that too much to wish for?

      The Illusion of an Everlasting Summer debuted at the 2026 Locarno Film Festival.