La Ciénaga

In 2009, a man and two accomplices try to evict members of the Indigenous community of Chuschagasta in northern Argentina. Claiming ownership of the land and armed with guns, they kill the community’s leader, Javier Chocobar. The murder is caught on video. It takes nine years of protests before court proceedings are finally opened in 2018. During all this time, the killers remain free. The film combines the voices and photographs of the community with courtroom footage to explore the long history of colonialism and land dispossession that led to this crime.

The military coup of '76 means that the birthday of a little girl named Paula does not pass normally.

Victor, who lives abroad, must travel to his country of origin sent by the company where he works and will have only one day to visit his family who will do the impossible to honor him in that short stay. At that time, dramatic turns and touches of humor will occur to deep solemnities, within the traditional and beloved domestic bosom.

The film brings together the winners of the first edition of the Argentine National Film Board's (INCAA) annual public script competition, the grand prize of which is the budget to produce a short film. Eventually screened in national theaters, the omnibus film gave rise and recognition to a new generation of Argentine filmmakers known collectively as the New Argentine Cinema—a wave of contemporary filmmaking that began in the mid-1990s in reaction to decades of political and economic crises in the country.

Amalia is an adolescent girl who is caught in the throes of her emerging sexuality and her deeply held passion for her Catholic faith. These two drives mingle when the visiting Dr. Jano takes advantage of a crowd to get inappropriately close to the girl. Repulsed by him but inspired by an inner burning, Amalia decides it is her God-given mission to save the doctor from his behavior, and she begins to stalk Dr. Jano, becoming a most unusual voyeur.

In a remote South American colony in the late 18th century, officer Zama of the Spanish crown waits in vain for a transfer to a more prestigious location. He suffers small humiliations and petty politicking as he increasingly succumbs to lust and paranoia.

Seemingly abandoned, a young woman walks through the porous city of Buenos Aires with her camera, finding potential mothers at every turn.

This film follows the crisscrossed fortunes of, among others, a rock musician, a flight attendant, a dog walker with an alarming penchant for over-the-counter medication, and a cab driver, who doesn’t really care about his life spiralling out of control, as long as he can sit in his old Renault 12.

A visually spectacular landscape of lush colours, futuristic screens and wild images of nature that comes alive with Björk's wondrous music, as she performs live alongside musicians and choirs of flutes and voices.

ZAMA (2017, Lucrecia Martel) didn’t come alone. It brought with her a shooting journal written by Selva Almada –El mono en el remolino– and this documentary by Manuel Abramovich, who, as a sound intruder, captured the meticulous work of the director from Salta and the warm, human, joyful precision.

After running into something with her car, Vero experiences a particular psychological state. She realizes she might have killed someone.

A wife tries to leave her village to get away from her abusive husband.

Marcela’s world becomes strange and unfamiliar after her sister Rina dies. She feels lost in her own house, and her relationship with her husband and children seems to suffer. But when Nacho, a young friend of her daughter’s, unexpectedly drops by, she starts to talk and walk with him. Gradually Marcela begins to have conversations with relatives from another dimension.

The portrait of a man and his attempts to make things up with life after losing his job.

Popular neighborhoods that are open-air prisons. Where beauty flirts with violence. The kingdom of the insubordinate children, veterans of the lead. A garden of amputated flowers, which with crutches on their backs, still grow and dance.

Moving between classrooms – static interiors and roaring, raucous exteriors – Leagues explores the subject of academic exclusion in native communities. Named after an archaic unit of measurement, Martel's postcolonial film depicts how education, though a social tool, can also create division and discrimination.