
“I will not be a virgin forever!” We follow Juana who is just discovering her own body. On her way through the non-barrier-free city she hears the occasional comment. Her answer: “Keep calm! It’s just a wheelchair!”
“I will not be a virgin forever!” We follow Juana who is just discovering her own body. On her way through the non-barrier-free city she hears the occasional comment. Her answer: “Keep calm! It’s just a wheelchair!”
A sugar cane field like a huge wall the workers with their machetes have to overcome blow by blow. The screen gradually brightens – until it all starts again. Composed like a piece of music.
An intimate film essay about the death of one’s mother and the development of personal forms of mourning everyone has to find/invent for themselves to cope with painful losses.
Day by day a woman nurses her bedridden father. The dictatorship in Argentina is over – but this army daughter is lost to the world. A powerful and wordless, but profoundly eloquent puppet drama.
Never underestimate the power of the dark side.
Great political cinema in small format. What is the connection between “eco-friendly” electric cars and the destruction of Argentina’s salt deserts and the livelihood of the indigenous population?
Flight, a new beginning and the social rise of a Jewish family in Argentina. The home movie genre transcended in a gripping family epic that encompasses four generations.
Looking for the roots of a nightmare: this audiovisual experimental set-up by a young Argentinean filmmaker interweaves family, nation and world history.
“I think it’s the first time that I don’t march with your mom”, 15-year-old Vicente’s father tells him in the car.
A study of the Gaucho tradition through the history of an old couple in northern Argentina. An exciting invitation to delve into an almost lost world.
A man on his usual trip to work, immersed in a system in which the use of people as objects is part of everyday life.
A small town in Argentina straight from a novel by Márquez: the young people are gone and the alleys are haunted. It’s the river people, the old ones say...