Lucía Torres Minoldo

A newly divorced father and his son, spent a last vacation in their mountain house before it goes to sale.

Maria lives with her mother in a village in the interior of the country. She does the housework and works as a masseur in a room in the house. The mother is in a bad way because of an injury caused by Suncho, the dog in the house, and then Maria takes care of her demands. Florence, her younger sister, is moving to the capital with her boyfriend. The early arrival of the couple in the village, to finalize details of the move, triggers movements inside the house.

Those who rebel against authority figures disobey. This film echoes “Cordobazo” — a popular rebellion in Cordoba against the Argentine military dictatorship in 1969 — through the story of Alicia, a trolleybus driver who joins an insurrection against an oppressive regime.

Mexican feature film

The life of Juan José Gorasurreta is pierced by images. In his new feature film, the historic film society programmer appropriates the films that made him in order to find new relationships and patterns and thus generate a convergence between his personal life, that of Argentina and that of cinema. In The Absences his travels coexist with Orson Welles, activism, Fernando Birrri, the Cordobazo, his studies, Eva Landeck, family, Carlos Echeverría, the Trelew Massacre, Nagisa Ōshima, censorship, film societies, the Malvinas war, his short films. The randomness of this list vanishes as the film progresses, and gives way to a synapse that is as logical as it is moving. “It is a portrait on how Argentine history and my encounter with films designed my sensitive areas” —as he did with his own story, no one could define The Absences better than Gorasurreta himself.

Two working-class young men dream of making it big with their cuarteto band. One night they get caught up in a crime they didn't commit. Knowing that their origin condemns them in advance, they flee with no other option.

At the end of 2019, dozens of cans with films made by film students in the 60s and 70s were found at the University of Córdoba. Until then, it was believed that they had been destroyed during the last military dictatorship. Fifty years later, those images are projected again, taking us to an almost unknown period of Córdoba cinema and a time of unprecedented political, social and cultural effervescence. Each frame exceeds its original intention, to tell us about a group of young people passionate about cinema and the interests that mobilized them: psychology, militancy, music, sexual freedom. But the appearance of a strange character linked to the fate of the cans reminds us of the abrupt and violent end of the dreams of that generation.