Locarno Review: The Illusion of an Endless Summer Presents a Vital Depiction of Life on the Pampas.

      Long recognized as a platform for adventurous cinema, Locarno's Filmmakers of the Present sidebar has recently become a must-see event. Similar in format to Cannes' Critics' Week, which focuses exclusively on first or second features, the last three editions have presented remarkable titles such as Sophy Romvari’s Blue Heron, Courtney Stephens’ Invention, and Ruan Lan-Xi’s The Plant from the Canaries. This year, the sidebar's top award was given to Alessandra Sanguinetti's The Illusion of an Everlasting Summer, a film that, alongside Beatrice Gibson’s captivating autofiction work At Night, has significantly contributed to this ongoing trend.

      Everlasting Summer is a temporally expansive yet emotionally resonant docu-portrait shot and edited by Sanguinetti—a distinguished Magnum photographer—over a span of 25 years. The film features two young girls whom Sanguinetti met in the Argentinian Pampas during the 1990s, and whose lives she chronicled in her acclaimed 2003 book, The Adventures of Guille and Belinda and the Enigmatic Meaning of Their Dreams. This directorial debut revisits the era of those photographs before revealing the subsequent developments in their lives.

      As the title indicates and the film illustrates, aging remains a challenging process, yet rarely has it been depicted with such meticulous attention and depth. This vibrant work combines joy, playfulness, striking visuals, and emotional struggles, compressing 25 fleeting years into a 90-minute film that resonates with universal experiences. The first half predominantly explores the years covered in the book, as Guille (the more outgoing of the two) and Belinda (who becomes increasingly reserved) transition from approximately 9 to 14 years old. The latter half quickly traverses the following decade, concluding as Guille and Belinda’s own children reach the ages they were during Sanguinetti’s book. Time progresses, as it invariably does.

      The film bears some resemblance to Paul Almond's Seven Up! and perhaps a bit of Richard Linklater's Boyhood, yet Everlasting Summer presents this journey through Sanguinetti's distinctive cinematic perspective, creating imagery that is consistently engaging and occasionally leans towards the legendary. Much of the initial footage captures the girls interacting with the camera: dressing up, singing, playing pool, and sharing their aspirations for the future; typical childhood antics, portrayed with delightful sincerity and charming precocity. They form an inseparable duo that is a joy to watch.

      At one moment, we witness Belinda dancing in a communion dress as storm clouds loom ominously in the background. In another particularly well-composed shot from above, the girls examine an amniotic sac containing what appears to be a horse fetus. Additionally, there’s a stunningly symmetrical image of clouds mirrored in a farm reservoir that evokes Matisse. In this scene, alongside another featuring gauchos on horseback, Sanguinetti diligently adheres to the horizon rules once imparted by John Ford to Steven Spielberg—long before The Fabelmans served as a reminder.

      The film’s references to American Westerns feel intentional: Everlasting Summer, much like its precursor book, seeks to portray the experience of growing up as a girl in the traditionally masculine and often romanticized landscape of Argentinian cattle lands. We see Guille watching movies with her father, who casually dons a bandolier. In one early interview, she reveals her belief that a man will inevitably abandon her, influenced by the films she has seen. When Sanguinetti asks if she enjoys being a woman, she responds affirmatively: “Because men are gruff and strong and women are weak and kind.”

      As a feat of editing, Everlasting Summer excels, wonderfully defying the implications of its own title. At around the one-hour mark, Guillermina briefly addresses a question about pregnancy, and within four cuts (a matter of mere minutes), her baby has grown up fully. This sensation of time accelerating will resonate with anyone who is a parent, likely striking a chord with many viewers as well.

      Ultimately, this film explores how the passage of time can diminish the enthusiasm we once possessed, but it is less a mournful narrative than a candid one. It is notably infused with levity and humor, which makes the first moment of regret from Guillermina profoundly impactful. In an early interview, Guillermina shares that her greatest wish is for “everyone to be happy,” and “that there are no curses, as witches say.” Is that truly too much to hope for?

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