In spite of subtitled films generally being anathema to me, I rather warmed to The Fall of the Queens, a watchable Argentinian production directed by Lucas Nazareno Turturro, and written by Constanza Bouquet and Mauro Guevara. Who can resist a film that takes us back to the turbulent kaleidoscope of our teens?

Orphaned teenage sisters Juana (Malena Filmus) and Mara (Lola Abraldes) live with their largely unsmiling aunt Inés (Umbra Colombo) in an isolated country setting, helping to raise honeybees. The girls share an exceptional bond, doubtless a byproduct of their loss. The significance of this isn’t clear at this point, but it’s unmistakable in its portrayal, with Juana (the eldest) clearly eclipsing Inés in the main maternal role, despite exhibiting more obvious signs of trauma than Mara.

*Trigger warning: animal lovers beware..*

In early scenes gruesomely contradictory to this, we see Juana (unbeknownst to Mara) dispatch a stray dog they’ve been secretly caring for by whacking the poor thing with a shovel. The reason for this? The impending arrival of their cousin Lucio (Franco Rizzaro), a boy of similar age who’s coming to stay in the hope it’ll ‘straighten him out’, giving the impression he’s somewhat unruly.

The girls have unflattering opinions of him from the past, but upon his arrival Mara is drawn to him and they bond, giggling over secret smoking sessions away from the flinty gaze of their aunt. Contrastingly, Juana displays hostility when she sees the two getting along. Mild, at least at first.

The bees’ role throughout the film as a rather fine metaphor is interestingly apt, presented in the form of some beautiful cinematography. At first they’re visibly a community; working efficiently, well-practised, a smoothly running unit. Following Lucio’s arrival they become erratic and discontent as a marked sexual undercurrent develops among the three teens. During their idle chatter, heavy emphasis is placed on the importance of the Queen (of which there can be only one), and the role of the males, whose only job is to fertilise the Queen before they die.

The honey itself symbolises the languid sweetness of the lives of the females in their relaxed, yet sheltered existence. While not particularly loving, this is initially a stable, female-orientated environment, with no apparent threats.

Until a male joins the community, and there’s discord in the hive, that is.

Whilst more a drama than a horror (in the traditional sense, anyway), The Fall of the Queens focuses on interpersonal relationships and the ease and startling speed with which they can spiral from good to bad under certain conditions, exposing the personal vulnerabilities all humans prefer to protect. Here it’s especially those of Juana and Inés, in both of whom the extremes of loss, loneliness, and an inability to let go of the past bring a bleakness to the film that’s heartbreaking, Inés’s own struggles running separately, yet parallel to those of the youngsters.

I often find subtitles not only a distraction, but also a potential barrier to the best experience of a movie. Not so in this case; I was too drawn in for that. The Fall of the Queens is not a feel-good film by any stretch of the imagination, but it is a well-observed representation of the negative effects of trauma on normal human emotions, and well worthy of a peek.

8.5 out of 10 Troubled Teens