The Summer We Lived

Summer of 2020. A coastal town, a secret buried in the sand, and two women who shouldn't have met. *The Summer We Lived* is not just a drama: it's an hourglass that empties between stifled laughter and silences that weigh more than the waves.

Almudena Amor wins the Goya for Best Actress, and it's no coincidence. Her portrayal of Adela, a young woman who arrives in town with more questions than answers, is one of those performances that nails you to your seat. There are no screams or outbursts, just a look that says it all when the script falls short. The film, directed by Carlos Sedes, plays with time as if it were clay: it jumps from the present to the past without warning, but you're never lost. In fact, you want to get lost.

The success lies in what's not shown. There are no unnecessary flashbacks or manual explanations. The viewer fills in the gaps with what they feel, not with what they're told. However, Lucas Vidal's soundtrack — that mix of strings that sound like sea salt and nostalgia — is the glue that holds each scene together. Without it, the drama would be just a soap opera.

Flaws? A few. There are a couple of dialogues that smell like forced script and a final twist that, although predictable, is less jarring than it should be. But the overall film holds up. *The Summer We Lived* doesn't reinvent the romantic drama, but it tells it with a honesty that's scarce. And in times of happy endings at the click of a button, that's already a merit.

An emotional hourglass that empties in a coastal town. Necessary reflection on the past.

" I don't recall seeing anything like it