Written and directed by Lucía Aleñar Iglesias, Cata will see her summer vacation disrupted by the absurd and sudden death of her grandmother, which only she witnesses. Her grief shifts when she casually turns to play pretend, transforming into the deceased. What begins with a game of dress-up will blur the lines of reality and family roles. Starring: Zoe Stein, Lluís Homar, Núria Prims, Marta Angelat, Nonni Ardal Hammarström and Martina García Cursach.
In today’s cinematic landscape, more films are emerging to do justice to the complex nature of grief and Forastera is a strong example of portraying how that grief can take unusual forms. In that sense, it’s not going to work for everyone because it is rather strange, but it has an interesting story to tell if you have the patience for it. Although, that’s not to say it becomes quirky or eccentric, Lucía Aleñar Iglesias wrapped this story in a refined and contemplative atmosphere, which was the best possible choice to deliver this cascade of emotions.
The directorial style has a strong presence, quickly setting a compelling atmosphere. The grain of the visual nicely matches the affecting nature of the story. There’s a quality to the tone that’s dreamlike, it has this effect of almost being in limbo, reflecting how their loss has set them adrift. Something that’s even stronger when mixed with the fantastic level of detail to the aesthetic and its unwavering focus.
Zoe Stein gives an excellent performance, she creates such a fascinating character who is quite the mystery. It’s very difficult to get a clear read on her, what her intentions and emotions are, until fairly late in the film which keeps things interesting. Whereas Lluís Homar’s Tomeu feels so transparent that it’s almost uncomfortable at times. Putting the two of them together creates a truly unusual and intriguing. There’s a great cast on the whole at work here, everyone has something to add to the atmosphere and the emotional layers.
However, there are times where it can feel misguided or messy, the intentions are undoubtedly there but Forastera is trying to tell a very difficult story and sometimes, it gets the better of it. Particularly when it comes to the romantic tangent for Stein’s Cata, you can see what role it has to play in this story but at the same time the scenes are fairly weak. There’s also a fairly intense amount of awkwardness at work and some of it lands but not all of it does.
Forastera is an intriguing exploration of loss, showing how grief has no ‘normal’ reaction, it can send people down strange paths. It’s impressive that Lucía Aleñar Iglesias creates that bizarre nature to this story without it ever becoming outlandish or overwhelming. It has a lot to say and doesn’t have to say much at all of that directly but not all of the story works and it can be asking too much of viewers at times.
