Mercedes Gaviria

Three women meet by chance at the end of the world, in Argentinian Patagonia, and set out on a polyamorous journey, caught up in the search for new kinds of relationships, far from possession and pain. They become the Daughters of Fire, a band dedicated to helping those women who look for their own path to erotica.

1980s' Argentina. Four young men decide to avoid being drafted to military service by staying in a car smoking cigarettes all night long.

Renzo tries to get close to the universe of family and football, which has always seemed alien to him. He wanders between his current life and the one he could have had.

An investigation about a transmission parallel to that of man’s arrival to the Moon, captured by a radio ham from Avellaneda, confronts the director of Channel 54 with a series of conspiracy theories and mysterious figures. Doing so also means questioning the nature of the images.

Alex doesn't go to school and spends his day hanging around, seemingly free, doing what he was told not to do; Steven tries to hold down a job, but there's always a friend, a party, a problem; Kevin wants to escape the drugs and violence. Three young men face the harshness of Bogotá life while they wait, amid continuous failures, for a miracle.

After the death of her grandfather, Antonio Bonino, Toia found six negatives proving that he was a member of the Fascist Party and an aide to Benito Mussolini. Influenced by this discovery, the director sets out to trace her male family lineage, whom the end of World War II brought to Argentina. Instead of a clarification, however, the past crumbles and disintegrates into a mosaic of archival material, family films, excerpts from personal diaries and fragments of the works of Roberto Rossellini or Luchino Visconti. But it is the meanings that emerge from the combination of disparate images that offer answers and fill the information vacuum that has shaped generations of the family. The dynamics of the Bonino family's male-female relationships have a much darker basis than the social context of the time. In the story of grandfather, father, cousins and sons, Toia also finds a story of identity and of the role of wives, mothers, grandmothers and daughters in a history shaped by men.

In home-movies shot in the ‘90s by her father, the filmmaker discovers in these inherited images powerful fictions of the Argentinian middle class and the country’s recent history.

In his second feature film, Leandro Listorti establishes a parallel between two worlds he seems to know well: that of plants and that of cinema. This delicate cinematographic work, full of beautiful images—both archival and current—gives an account of the immense work of classification and preservation, and generously invites us to think about forms of representation and memory.