Argentine cinema is one of the most resilient in the entire world. A thousand times, circumstances have been adverse to it –the most recent, when Milei and his chainsaw came to power–, and a thousand times it has demonstrated its capacity to generate remarkable and free works. The latest example we have in The River Train, a film that emanates from two desires, intimately related, of its directors, Lorenzo Ferro and Lucas A. Vignale: on one hand, to wander through the sensations that childhood leaves behind; on the other, to work with a child who could embody the loneliness, the bewilderment, and the wonder of that vital phase. It is, in fact, the eyes of its protagonist, Milo Barría, both immense and impenetrable, that are in charge of guiding us through an adventure that detaches itself from realism as the child moves away from the family home and approaches Buenos Aires, a city that signifies the opening to mystery, risk, and the possibility of discovering oneself as someone different.

Cinema begins to sink its fangs into the fascinating universe of gothic horror of Mariana Enríquez, who is the great current reference of Latin American fantastic literature, with an extraordinary universe of gothic horror deeply rooted in the Argentine reality that has not gone unnoticed by cinema. While the adaptation that the Barcelona-born Marçal Forés is preparing of the short story was being finalized Where are you, my heart?, last year it premiered at the Sitges Festival the remarkable La virgen de la tosquera, which started from two of the author's short stories, and this Sunday it has arrived at the San Sebastian Festival My sad dead, in which the Chilean Pablo Larraín adapts four of Enríquez's short stories: A sunny place for shady people, My sad dead, When we spoke to the dead and Julie.

Sixteen independent stories, the same lead actor, and plenty of meanness. These are the elements that shape Homo argentumThe Argentine film phenomenon, with nearly two million viewers, premieres this Thursday in our country. A portrait of the Argentine condition, directed by Mariano Cohn (Villa Ballester, Argentina, 1975) and Gastón Duprat (Bahía Blanca, Argentina, 1969), known for films such as The distinguished citizen and Official competition and for series like Fine arts

Preceded on the calendar by two giants of the festival circuit like Toronto and Venice, the San Sebastian Film Festival must wield all possible weapons to remain relevant on the international scene. That's why, in 2017, while the major A-list festivals were considering what to do with Netflix, San Sebastian opened its doors to the platform and has ended up becoming one of its strategic allies, especially when it comes to premiering Latin American productions. This is the context that explains why a nice and fairly conventional Netflix comedy like 27 nights, directed by Uruguayan Daniel Hendler, opened the Basque festival this Friday, which had never offered such a place of honor to a film from a platform.