THE STORY – Paula and La Maestra are 16 and inseparable. The strongest swimmers on their team, they are training together over the summer to represent Mexico at the Junior Pan American Swimming Championships. One night at a party, Paula ends up alone with Daniel, a good friend and her long-time crush. Amid reggaeton, flirting and shots, Paula and Daniel slip into the bathroom together. Soon after, La Maestra senses that something has changed. Paula seems distant and deeply sad. At first, she insists nothing is wrong, but La Maestra keeps pushing until her friend begins to talk about what happened that night. Searching for answers, they try to name the experience, and what they find feels devastating. As the two girls respond in different ways, their bond is put to the test. Paula needs time, while La Maestra feels compelled to speak out. Fear, feelings of guilt, and anger begin to fracture their friendship, pushing them towards a decision that will redefine who they are, together and apart.
THE CAST – Rocio Guzmán, Darana Álvarez, Tatsumi Milori, Tomás García-Agraz & Mónica del Carmen
THE TEAM – Fernanda Tovar (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 90 Minutes
The feature debut of Mexican writer-director Fernanda Tovar, “Chicas Tristes” (Or “Sad Girlz” in English), is an exceptional coming-of-age drama that had its world premiere in the Generation 14plus strand of the 2026 Berlin Film Festival. Superbly written and beautifully acted, this is a moving, thoughtful, and acutely observed picture that marks out Tovar as a significant talent to watch.
Set in an unnamed Mexican city, the story centres on Paula (Darana Alvarez) and Maestra (Rocio Guzman), two 16-year-old best friends who do everything together. In particular, they are both part of their school swimming team, and they spend a lot of their time training for a championship that might take them both abroad in the near future. However, everything changes when they attend a party, along with other members of the team. Keen for Paula to get somewhere with her long-time crush, fellow swim team member Daniel (Lucio Lemus), Maestra tells him that her friend likes him, whereupon he chats to her and then follows her into the bathroom.
Thereafter, Paula’s behaviour is markedly different—she becomes quiet and withdrawn, and Maestra grows increasingly concerned. One of the many excellent aspects of Tovar’s script is the way that it gives Paula time to process what has happened to her. Initially, she’s confused—”I’m not sure how to explain it”—and later remarks, “Maybe I don’t like sex,” until finally getting to the point where she tells her friend, “I didn’t want it to happen.” Once Paula has confided in Maestra about exactly what transpired between her and Daniel in the bathroom, the pair works through what has happened together. In one key scene, they turn to ChatGPT for advice, and, significantly, it’s ChatGPT that tells them that what Paula has experienced is rape, i.e. sexual intercourse without consent.
This scene is particularly fascinating because it’s unsettling on multiple levels. We’ve seen that the girls both have loving families, so, on one level, it’s heartbreaking that they have to turn to A.I. to have this conversation rather than a trusted, sympathetic family member. On the other hand, regardless of the audience’s feelings towards A.I. in the current climate, there’s no disputing that ChatGPT does the right thing here, setting both girls straight about exactly what has happened and offering the sort of advice you’d expect from a responsible adult. It’s worth noting, of course, that younger audiences may not find the above scene unusual, but for older audiences it’s a telling sign of the times.
From that point on, the friendship between the two girls becomes much messier and more complex, as they react very differently. Paula’s instinct is to retreat further into silence, and it’s profoundly upsetting to watch her sit quietly by as a clearly oblivious Daniel approaches her during a swimming practice session to ask about her plans for the weekend. Meanwhile, Maestra becomes furious and vengeful on her friend’s behalf, eventually taking matters into her own hands, threatening to drive a wedge between the two girls for good. In many ways, she’s the audience’s stand-in, which only underscores the helplessness we feel when Maestra’s plan for justice doesn’t pan out as we would hope.
The performances are excellent, and all the more powerful for being so understated. Alvarez has the bigger journey of the two as Paula, and her quiet withdrawal is devastating to watch, while Guzman’s battle with her frustrated powerlessness to help her friend is equally moving. A key factor in both performances, the script and the direction, is how much everything is conveyed through looks, glances, pauses, and changes in body language between the two girls. To that end, the audience scrutinises every minute gesture for clues to the girls’ emotional state, and the cumulative effect works well.
There’s also a strong supporting turn from Tatsumi Milori as Raz, the local dancing teacher, who becomes a sort of confidante and friend to both girls. Her scenes give the film a distinctive flavour of local colour, as does the presence of a character who appears to have a tiny pet pig, though it is never referred to or explained. Perhaps it’s a metaphor?
Thematically, the film effectively dramatises an all-too-familiar #MeToo story in microcosm, underscoring the sickening horror when the perpetrator of the sexual assault is someone who is well known and well liked, rendering the victim that much more powerless. The scene that occurs when someone in authority is finally alerted to the truth of what has happened is all the more soul-destroying for its practical realism. The film is also impressive in the nuance it brings to traditional coming-of-age themes, the way both girls gradually process what has happened and realise the attendant sense of loss, and the realisation that there will be no going back to how things were and that their lives will be changed forever. Throughout the film, Tovar conveys these ideas through atmosphere and expression rather than spelling them out in dialogue, and the palpable loss of innocence for both girls is evident.
In short, this is a highly accomplished debut that impresses on multiple levels: as a finely observed portrait of female friendship, an exploration of the impact of trauma, and a rage-inducing look at the way society still fails so many victims of sexual assault.
