Agustín Mendilaharzu

X arrives in a small town and witnesses a violent act; Z takes the job of a dead manager and discovers that he had a notebook written in code and a map; H is hired to go down a river and investigate a series of mysterious monoliths built on the shore.

The story of a young couple, from beginning to end, from the euphoria of falling in love until the final days blurred and dark, is realized with an analytical eye and investigative zeal. How and why two people fall in love? What now? How quickly will they get into a relationship? When a relationship ends, and when should it end? Peter and Sofia, with its simple story of love, they become reflections of all those who, at twenty-five years have been in love.

Fatherland brings a rigorous structural approach to a site of monuments that is also a place of movement, criss-crossed daily by tourists and locals. The grounds are laid out like city blocks, with wide avenues branching onto laneways filled with elaborate mausoleums. The film does not attempt to tour the cemetery as one would on foot, however, but rather moves chronologically through the history enshrined there. A series of individuals are framed in static compositions as they read aloud excerpts from the writings of noteworthy Argentines interred within. (Some license has been taken, as the final resting places of certain figures represented - such as journalist Rodolfo Walsh, who was among the "disappeared" - remain unknown. The result is both poetic and political.) Beginning in the early 1800s, this history comprises civil war, battles with the country's native population, the conflict between the city and the provinces, and years of military dictatorship.

Situation 1: Mondongo, a duo of Argentinian artists, create a work inspired by The Art of colors, a treatise by Johannes Itten. Situation 2: A filmmaker begins a portrait of them.

Mariano, 16, inexplicably and without warning, shoots himself twice and improbably survives. Then, life goes on. His brother pursues a romance with a girl working at a fast-food joint, his mother takes off on a trip with a stranger, and Mariano recruits a woman to join his medieval wind ensemble.

The story of some neighborhood boys, narrated with an undoubted Borgian spirit. (ucine.edu.ar)

On 9 July – Argentina’s Independence Day – Llinás sets off in Buenos Aires with his regular cameraman Agustín Mendilaharzu to re-record ‘Corsini interpreta a Blomberg y Maciel’, an album made in 1929 by lyricist Hector Pedro Blomberg and composer Enrique Maciel, as an ode to Juan Manuel de Rosas, leader of the Argentine Confederation.

“This is a film about the end of a friendship. It wasn’t meant to be. Fifteen years ago, they painted my portrait.” (Mariano Llinás)

Is this film about Clorindo Testa or not? Is it about the life of the director, about the life of his father, about the life of his country, or is it just one of those biographical films that proliferate at film festivals in which the narrator spends his time recounting family anecdotes and pulling old photos out of a box? This small, microscopic adventure, whose subtitle, stolen from the Savoyard Xavier de Maistre, could well be Voyage autour de mon père, navigates between these threats and others even worse.

The second installment of the adventures of the Corsini Commando takes us this time to the Pampas plain, where Corsini grew up and forged a vision of the world that would accompany him throughout his life. The result of this excursion is an erratic wandering through the landscapes of the Homeland, its paradoxes and its ghosts: A land dreamed of by a newly arrived foreigner who imagined for himself a gaucho destiny that would never become completely real. Now then: is that not, in the end, the destiny of all things?

Everyone is locked up, but Clementina and the man she's quarantined with won't stop working. We know little about him, and even less about her: we just see over and over again her mysterious face, which seems to defy everything.

Like a pair of wild detectives, two friends sniff around the library of eccentric writer and critic C.E. Feiling in search of the traces of a cult author, a punk dandy who swam against the current of Argentine literature.

Two female producers are commissioned to create a short documentary for an exhibition dedicated to Rubén Santantonín, an elusive figure of the Argentine avant-garde who died very young, in the late 1960s. However, the client imposes one unexpected condition: the video must be made together with David Lamelas, Santantonín’s former collaborator and today an internationally recognized figure of conceptual art. At first, the plan seems clear and limited in scope: Lamelas, accompanied by a young film crew, gathers archival materials, documents the few surviving works, and interviews curators and major artists – such as Luis Felipe Noé and Marta Minujín – who, along with Santantonín and Lamelas, peopled the legendary scene at the Instituto Torcuato Di Tella. Lamelas gradually realizes that reconstructing the story of his friend also means confronting a series of gaps and contradictions.

El Pampero records Chantal Akerman's visit to Argentina in 2005.

What do Eva Perón, Víctor Grippo, an American tourist and the Catamaran poet Arturo Basanta have in common? That all of them once passed through the Traslasierra valley and were also victims of the tuber that has obsessed with the inhabitants of Villa Dolores: the solanum tuberosum, better known as the potato.

A monolith is the excuse for a journey to an obsession full of charms and, like every dream, also some disappointment.

On 9 July – Argentina’s Independence Day – Llinás sets off in Buenos Aires with his regular cameraman Agustín Mendilaharzu to re-record ‘Corsini interpreta a Blomberg y Maciel’, an album made in 1929 by lyricist Hector Pedro Blomberg and composer Enrique Maciel, as an ode to Juan Manuel de Rosas, leader of the Argentine Confederation.

No synopsis available yet.

Everyone is locked up, but Clementina and the man she's quarantined with won't stop working. We know little about him, and even less about her: we just see over and over again her mysterious face, which seems to defy everything.

In July 2002, an American Producer comissions director Mariano Donoso a documentary on the state of Education in San Juan, the province where he was born. On the first day of filming, a teachers’ strike begins, paralyzing classes in the whole province, and – indirectly – the film itself. Donoso consequently embarks on an odyssey (which is sometimes funny and sometimes sad), through the past and present of his homeland. Stikes, claims, Sarmiento, the earthquake, the province’s bureocracy and its relationship with Buenos Aires, and finally, the desert, await for Donoso in his venturesome journey.