“The August Virgin” starts with a death, albeit off-screen. When Eva goes to pick up the keys to the apartment she’ll be staying in for August, the writer who lives there tells her about an article he’s been commissioned to write about the recently deceased philosopher Stanley Cavell. He explains the admiration Cavell had for the Hollywood comedies of the 1930s, particularly the progressive films of Barbara Stanwyck and Katherine Hepburn, whose pictures the academic celebrated for being “about feminine identity, the courage of being oneself, knowing who you really are.” Director Jonás Trueba couldn’t have made the thesis statement for his latest feature any clearer. However, what Trueba understands is that finding yourself is sometimes no more difficult than being out in the world, and open to the experiences that you seek out, or just as frequently happen to find their way to you. And that having a realization about who you are doesn’t come from one momentous epiphany, but a collection of smaller ones. Unfolding with a charmingly, languorous stretch through the dog days of summer, “The August Virgin” is a breezy agglomeration of the moments both big and small that we only find out later make us the person that we are.
As the film opens, Eva has borrowed a friend’s flat, and while much of Madrid have followed tradition, and left for August to escape the heat, she has decided to “stay in her own city as an act of faith and she tries out a new way of being in the world.” Led by a radiant performance by Itsaso Arana, Eva initially wanders the city almost like a tourist, visiting parks and museums, and flitting in and out of the open-air markets. But it’s not long until her days start taking a very loose shape. As so often happens in summer’s unstructured spread, Eva forms a temporary collective of friends. She establishes a quick bond with Olka (Isabelle Stofell), the musician who lives upstairs, and one evening together at the bar, they run into Welsh expat Joe (Joe Manjón) and his Mancunian cousin Will (Simon Pritchard), who complete their circle. Eva’s meanderings through the city also see her running into an old friend, Luis (Luis Alberto Heras), bringing energy healer Maria (María Herrador) into her orbit, while chance encounters with an ex-lover, and a bartender named Agos (Vito Sanz), each truthfully navigate the pain of lingering heartbreak and the excitingly unknown terrain of meeting someone new.
Co-written by Trueba and Arana, the director and star almost magically construct Eva’s interior life before our eyes. Trueba trusts his lead actress to anchor the gently paced film, allowing the whole person of Eva to emerge as she threads her way through Madrid’s summery days and nights. Cinematographer Santiago Racaj is their ace in the hole, capturing the blend of confidence, uncertainty, and warmth that Arana gives to Eva, often with nothing more than a passing expression. Racaj keeps his camera close on Eva’s luminous face, often in profile or three-quarter profile, like a painting of a religious icon — you can almost see the aureole. It’s a fitting choice, not only given the title “The August Virgin,” but also as the story plays out against Madrid’s festivals for St. Catejan, St. Lawrence, and the Holy Virgin. Meanwhile, the city itself feels vibrant and alive, offering both sizzle or sanctuary depending on what you might need, with one just around the corner from the other.
Nothing in particular happens in “The August Virgin,” but also everything happens. Trueba accurately transmits the sensation of the unending weeks of summer, and how the impact of seemingly insubstantial, fleeting encounters can be the events that reorient each day. Good conversation, music to dance to, somewhere to watch the stars, a doorway that leads to a hidden bar, a swimming hole to float in, people to share it with — these are the things that will change your life. But Eva, like all of us, doesn’t quite know how it will just yet. If the film stumbles ever so slightly, it’s with a third act reveal that dips toward magical realism, without entirely committing to it. It’s an unfortunate twist that’s pushed upon Eva, when the film has largely resisted that kind of scripting until that point, and it chafes against the otherwise natural vibe Trueba and Arana establish. However, it’s not enough to snuff out the lived-in authenticity the film so easily settles into.
Brimming with life, and going down like an Aperol spritz on a humid afternoon, “The August Virgin” celebrates the significance and connections that emerge from hanging out at bars, long walks homes, running into friends, meeting strangers, and just being out in the world. It might just break your heart a little to be reminded of the ostensibly inconsequential activities that we miss so dearly in the midst of the pandemic. But like Eva, we will find ourselves in the moments and encounters that we can still manage to have, and emerge from them new again. [B]
“The August Virgin” debuts in Virtual Cinemas on August 21.