Esteros is a 2016 Argentine romantic drama directed by Papu Curotto, offering a tender and visually rich exploration of first love, sexual awakening, and the passage of time. Set against the backdrop of the lush Iberá Wetlands in northern Argentina, the film tells the story of two childhood friends whose bond is reignited after years apart. It is a quiet, heartfelt work that uses the rhythms of nature and the intimacy of small-town life to mirror the characters’ emotional journeys.
The story centers on Matías (Ignacio Rogers) and Jerónimo (Esteban Masturini), who were inseparable as boys. Their friendship blossomed into something deeper during a formative summer, when innocent games and shared adventures began to give way to romantic and physical attraction. However, their budding relationship was abruptly cut short when Matías’ family moved away, creating a gap filled with distance, silence, and unspoken feelings.
Years later, as young adults, Matías returns to his hometown with his girlfriend, but fate brings him back into contact with Jerónimo. The reunion is charged with nostalgia, longing, and unresolved tension. The film moves fluidly between past and present, revealing the boys’ early connection through sun-drenched flashbacks, while the present-day narrative shows them struggling to navigate the complexities of their adult lives. The contrast between the innocence of youth and the guardedness of adulthood becomes one of the film’s most poignant themes.
Visually, Esteros is a celebration of its setting. Cinematographer Gustavo Hadba captures the wetlands with a painterly eye, using warm, golden light for the flashbacks and cooler, more subdued tones for the present-day scenes. The Iberá Wetlands become more than just a backdrop—they serve as a metaphor for the characters’ emotions, with its calm waters, hidden depths, and constant state of quiet change. The water imagery is particularly powerful, symbolizing both purity and the fluidity of identity.
Thematically, the film addresses the lingering effects of societal expectations and internalized fear. In their youth, Matías and Jerónimo’s attraction is pure and instinctive, unburdened by labels. But as adults, they face the weight of social norms, personal obligations, and the fear of disrupting their established lives. This internal conflict is portrayed with subtlety, as the characters rarely articulate their emotions directly, instead expressing them through small gestures, lingering glances, and moments of silence.
Esteros has been praised for its understated performances, particularly from Rogers and Masturini, who convey deep emotional history without the need for heavy exposition. The film avoids melodrama, favoring quiet realism that makes the moments of intimacy feel more genuine and affecting. The chemistry between the leads is palpable, making their reconnection feel inevitable yet fraught with uncertainty.
Critics have lauded Esteros for its authenticity and sensitivity, highlighting how it captures the bittersweet nature of first love—its beauty, its vulnerability, and its power to linger in memory long after circumstances have changed. While the pacing is unhurried, it allows the audience to fully immerse themselves in the atmosphere and emotional beats of the story.
Ultimately, Esteros is about the enduring impact of formative relationships, the courage it takes to confront one’s true desires, and the way love can resurface like a long-forgotten melody. It is a film that lingers quietly in the mind, much like the wetlands themselves—calm on the surface, but teeming with life beneath.
