Federico Cardone

Vera, a young filmmaker, sets out to make a film about the writer Antonio Di Benedetto, convinced that curses don’t last forever. Her search begins with the author’s first short story, set in a zoo on the night of an eclipse: a strange, precise plot that seems to hold the key to her own life.

With never-before-seen images and interviews, this documentary explores the life of Quino, one of Argentina's most important humorists.

A teacher with a blank notebook -the great Liliana Bodoc- arrives at a school in the middle of the desert behind the trail of the Huarpes. As in her books, Bodoc speaks to the children frankly about important things—water, the wind, death. Although, rather than speaking to them, she asks them—she looks into their stories and invites them to give shape to their ideas. But Lagunas is not exactly a documentary about Liliana Bodoc; it’s about lots of things—about the ghosts that inhabit a territory, about the bridges between generations, about memory. In Lagunas there are curious children, there are teachers and shamans, there are bodies buried in the sand, there is a culture and a language that refuse to become extinct. There is a filmmaker who, as he records, asks himself about his memories and about the memories he is leaving to his children. And there is also a writer who proves that in order to write, first you have to know how to listen.

Vera, a young filmmaker, sets out to make a film about the writer Antonio Di Benedetto, convinced that curses don’t last forever. Her search begins with the author’s first short story, set in a zoo on the night of an eclipse: a strange, precise plot that seems to hold the key to her own life.

With never-before-seen images and interviews, this documentary explores the life of Quino, one of Argentina's most important humorists.

A teacher with a blank notebook -the great Liliana Bodoc- arrives at a school in the middle of the desert behind the trail of the Huarpes. As in her books, Bodoc speaks to the children frankly about important things—water, the wind, death. Although, rather than speaking to them, she asks them—she looks into their stories and invites them to give shape to their ideas. But Lagunas is not exactly a documentary about Liliana Bodoc; it’s about lots of things—about the ghosts that inhabit a territory, about the bridges between generations, about memory. In Lagunas there are curious children, there are teachers and shamans, there are bodies buried in the sand, there is a culture and a language that refuse to become extinct. There is a filmmaker who, as he records, asks himself about his memories and about the memories he is leaving to his children. And there is also a writer who proves that in order to write, first you have to know how to listen.

A teacher with a blank notebook -the great Liliana Bodoc- arrives at a school in the middle of the desert behind the trail of the Huarpes. As in her books, Bodoc speaks to the children frankly about important things—water, the wind, death. Although, rather than speaking to them, she asks them—she looks into their stories and invites them to give shape to their ideas. But Lagunas is not exactly a documentary about Liliana Bodoc; it’s about lots of things—about the ghosts that inhabit a territory, about the bridges between generations, about memory. In Lagunas there are curious children, there are teachers and shamans, there are bodies buried in the sand, there is a culture and a language that refuse to become extinct. There is a filmmaker who, as he records, asks himself about his memories and about the memories he is leaving to his children. And there is also a writer who proves that in order to write, first you have to know how to listen.

A teacher with a blank notebook -the great Liliana Bodoc- arrives at a school in the middle of the desert behind the trail of the Huarpes. As in her books, Bodoc speaks to the children frankly about important things—water, the wind, death. Although, rather than speaking to them, she asks them—she looks into their stories and invites them to give shape to their ideas. But Lagunas is not exactly a documentary about Liliana Bodoc; it’s about lots of things—about the ghosts that inhabit a territory, about the bridges between generations, about memory. In Lagunas there are curious children, there are teachers and shamans, there are bodies buried in the sand, there is a culture and a language that refuse to become extinct. There is a filmmaker who, as he records, asks himself about his memories and about the memories he is leaving to his children. And there is also a writer who proves that in order to write, first you have to know how to listen.