The trials and tribulations of teenage girlhood can run the gamut. There are the everyday dramas that feel like the end of the world: having a misplaced piece of spinach laced between your braces while chatting up your crush, not making it to the swim meet you so desperately want to go to, and the embarrassment of being stuck somewhere between childhood and adulthood. Then there are the visceral, gut-wrenching events that threaten to tear apart the fabric of the world as you know it. In Chicas Tristes (or Sad Girlz), first-time feature director Fernanda Tovar lets us into the world of Paula (Darana Álvarez) and her best friend Maestra (Rocio Guzmán) as their friendship is tested after one party changes everything.

Paula and Maestra are like any other pair of teen besties. They do each other’s makeup, support each other through grueling swim practices, and crack jokes. We get little glimpses into their dynamic early on in the film – at school, outside of it, musing on life in the way only teen girls can.

Their lived-in relationship’s a throughline that gives the film an intimate warmth, even with its short runtime. As I watched them in these quotidian settings, I couldn’t help but feel a kinship with them as I caught glimpses of my own adolescence reflected back at me.

The way the film is shot makes it feel like we’re visiting during an endless summer – the warmth of the colors and the girls’ friendship feels comforting in their familiarity. All this warmth makes the events of the party all the more disquieting, and the resulting turmoil all the more potent.

Visually, the party seems like a typical, modern coming-of-age sequence: dancing, selfies, and drinking. Paula follows her crush into a bathroom after Maestra gives him a heads-up about Paula’s affections. The rest of the night continues until the girls make it home, and Paula sleepily tells Maestra that she hooked up with her crush.

All seems well until a few days later, when the truth comes – it wasn’t a hookup. It was a sexual assault. The girls are of two minds about how to move forward. Still processing what happened to her, Paula wants to keep it quiet, so no one, and particularly not her father, finds out about it. Maestra, on the other hand, wants revenge for her friend.

This tension is what drives Chicas Tristes. Maestra’s rage is understandable, and Guzmán’s performance showcases her character’s fiercely protective nature. When she stands up to Paula’s attacker during a gym session for their swim team, you can see the rage radiating from her entire being. At the same time, she’s still a teenager: looking for answers to life’s complicated questions through ChatGPT and conspiracy videos, trying to decide what she can do to help her friend.

Álvarez’s portrayal of Paula as quiet and wounded in the face of her trauma is a notable compliment to Maestra’s rage. This contrast is part of what makes the film so compelling.

Tovar’s direction is another factor. The first-time director takes time to make the everyday dreamy: imbuing the car ride from the party with blue, blurry visuals of buildings and streetlamps passing by, photographing the girls’ hang sessions with their other friend, Raz (Tatsumi Milori), in warm, welcoming daylight. She never lets us feel like we’re intruding on the girls’ space; instead, we meet them where they are and become even more invested because of it.

Chicas Tristes is an intimate and poignant debut from a filmmaker who understands that teenage friendships can be complicated and powerful, both a stepping stone on the road to adulthood and an essential foundation to navigating life’s turmoil.

Chicas Tristes already screened at Berlinale and the Tribeca Film Festival. Look for it at a festival near you.

If you or someone you know has experienced sexual assault, contact the national sexual abuse hotline.