Alicia Labraga

It is no coincidence that the second feature by Argentinian Melisa Liebenthal begins with a quote from “Duino Elegies” by Rilke, who was concerned with existential angst. And, more prosaically, Marina, the film’s young protagonist, is faced with similar anxiety. In fact, her problem is her face. One morning, she discovers her face has changed, and she can no longer recognise herself. Not even her mother can, who bumps into her on the street and says hello to her like she would to any stranger (deadpan, surreal humor is part of the film’s recipe). Marina is thus forced to confront her identity: who is she? Is she determined by her parent’s DNA or by her ID card? Can she be identified by a family portrait, by biometrics or the love of those around her, including her Colombian boyfriend? Is she prettier now?

The investigation about an alleged international spy after the Nazi refugees in Argentina gives way to a plot that expands, becomes delirious and branches off. A mockumentary that has, at its center, an elusive woman whose trail can be traced in the most emphatic convulsions of the 20th century.

Structured as a labyrinth-like game and inspired by Jorge Luis Borges, Aleph is a travelogue of experience, a dreamer's journey through the lives, experiences, stories and musings of protagonists spanning ten countries and five continents.

It is a hot, humid and sticky night. Inés, a woman in her forties, is driving through the city of Buenos Aires towards the Buenos Aires suburbs. She is on her way to spend Christmas with her brother's in-laws whom she does not know. During these hours of family siege, Inés faces the questions that open up about her life decisions, reevaluating her choices.

The members of a diverse vigilante group formed to boost the police's image are put in jeopardy when they stumble upon an unexpected drug deal.