Laura Paredes

In this genre-hopping road movie from Daughters of Fire director Albertina Carri, Violeta, the director of an amateur lesbian porn hit, is invited to make a mainstream crossover. With a budget and cast, but no firm idea where to go, the crew head off on a road trip in search of their perfect film.

Pin de Fartie unfolds as a playful spin on theatrical adaptation and an experiment in character dynamics. The film charts three relationships defined by Samuel Beckett’s 1957 play Fin de Partie (Endgame): one between a blind man and his daughter; another concerning two actors rehearsing that same text; the third following a man who reads his blind mother Beckett’s play and discovers that it reflects their lives.

In the province of Tucumán, Argentina, follow Julieta, a young woman accused of infanticide, and Soledad Deza, the bold lawyer who risks everything to take on her highly controversial, precedent-setting case. As the trial unfolds, Julieta's plight becomes a flashpoint in the battle against a conservative legal system —sparking a groundswell of outrage and a growing wave of solidarity that transcends borders.

Nothing went as planned: what seemed to be an original idea (taking an international fashion event to a small town in the Argentine Pampas) ended up as a mysterious affair, with a mannequin who seems to have vanished, and who insists on leaving small clues scattered across the immense plains. But nothing seems to be too strange for Commissioner Sirota and her particular method which, this time, includes a clairvoyant, a legendary detective arriving from Santa Rosa and some picturesque “peritas” who choose to work at night, swinging to the rhythm of Ska. In the middle, a disturbing question: Is it a police case they are dealing with, or is someone taking them (the police, the whole town, the Italians – all of us, perhaps) for a fool?

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?

Morán works as a clerk in a bank in Buenos Aires. He is as good as invisible to his colleagues. Over dinner with his colleague Román, Morán tells him that he stole exactly $650,000, which is exactly double what he would have made until his retirement. He plans to turn himself in, but not before offering Román to split the money if agrees to hide it for the duration of his incarceration.

For the unique 2x25 project, the festival asked 25 composers to compose a short piece of music, after which 25 filmmakers made a short film. A short film by Laura Citarella with music by Eiko Ishibashi.

With scenes at times current and at others medieval, dramatic or overloaded with useless gestures, Jarry, Ubú Patagónico is a dialogue with “Ubú Rey”, by Alfred Jarry, and his decalogue about theatre. The work also explores Jarry's non-theatrical texts until the material is appropriated in its immateriality by a group of Patagonian Indians who take Mother Ubú prisoner.

With the strange disappearance of Laura, two colleagues, her older boyfriend, Rafael, and Ezequiel, learn of their recent discoveries, which may help them locate her. However, the story is bigger and stranger than they could imagine.

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.