During a speech at the Bicentennial Museum yesterday, president Cristina Fernández de Kirchner announced the creation of a new audiovisual district on Demarchi Island, in Puerto Madero. She also signed a decree raising subsidies to the film industry.

The new district will be placed on Demarchi Island, near the Puerto Madero casino, on state-owned land. The newly created Agency for the Administration of State Property will transfer ownership of 120,000 m2 of land to social security body Anses. Anses will then have 30 days to call for tenders, as all the development will be carried out by private investors. The government estimates investments for up to US$150m in offices, shops, recreational spaces, a stadium, and the areas dedicated specifically to film production.

President Fernández also signed two decrees which will favour the film industry. The first one names filming a “productive industrial activity”, thus awarding the audiovisual industry with the same type of benefits other industries receive, such as access to credits for small and medium-sized companies and tax exemptions. The second decree raises the amount of subsidies the state will give the film industry, as well as the maximum amount the National Institute of Film and Audiovisual Arts (Incaa) can give individual projects, from the current $3.5m to $5.5m.

During the presentation, president Fernández highlighted the fact that “Argentina is the fourth worldwide exporter of audiovisual content.”

The announcements were well received by the film industry. “The country needed an audiovisual disctrict, and filming to be considered an industry to strengthen production,” said Liliana Mazure, president of Incaa, to Página 12.

The city government, however, rejected the initiative, claiming that the city already has a similar project underway. They were referring to a city law which awards tax exemptions to production companies located in the neighbourhoods of Palermo, Chacarita, and Colegiales. Buenos Aires chief of cabinet Horacio Rodríguez Larreta said that the government will need the city’s approval to use the land on Dimarchi Island.

IdeaMe: is an online platform, which helps creators, be they inventors, artists, or designers, among others, to finance their projects through crowd funding. Each week, the Indy features and promotes one project every week, with the aim of helping the creators finance and achieve their dreams. This week: Ciclos de Cine Para Vecinos, by Biblioteca Popular Eduardo Martedí.

“To spread those films, those directors and those ideas which as of yet are not widely known and seem to us that they would be of interest to others”.

Such is the goal of the Ciclos de Cine para Vecinos project, according to Martín Echenbaum, a spokesperson for the team at the Biblioteca Popular Eduardo Martedí that has proposed this project on Ideame.

The Biblioteca Popular Eduardo Martedí was founded in 2010 by a group of students from the University of Buenos Aires with the idea of “encouraging reading, education… but in a comprehensive way, not only to encourage the culture of reading – that is, the written word – but also a more comprehensive political education.”

The library – which today holds around 3,000 volumes – is housed in what was formerly the garage of the Spanish Cultural centre Centro Español de Sada y sus Contornos.

Martín explains that the library was founded with the hope of making books more accessible to all. Asking only “minimum requirements” for membership – such as a fee of $2 per month – the library seeks to confront challenges to the accessibility of books in Buenos Aires.

Martín observes several obstacles in this regard. First, he notes, “there is generally not much familiarity today with the concept of public libraries. You walk down the street and you don’t find a public library.” And second, he remarks that “books are very expensive”, and that because many books are imported to Argentina, “they come at a price that is vey difficult to access”.

While books are central to the library’s mission, however, Martín also observes that “we thought that with a library alone isn’t sufficient.”

In this spirit, the library not only offers its members the chance to borrow books, but also a wide range of activities. Taking advantage of the space of the Centro Español de Sada y sus Contornos, the team has organised “book presentations, discussions about a variety of themes, including literature, politics, history, anthropology, music presentations, poetry readings, theatre.”

Now, they would like to add one more activity to their agenda: Los ciclos de cine para vecinos, or Cinema Cycles for Neighbours. In order to make this project a reality, the group has turned to crowd funding on Ideame to raise money to purchase a projector and a screen.

The idea of the cinema cycles is that each cycle would be based around a particular theme; proposed themes to date include the Spanish civil war, World War I, and Italian cinema, among others.

Martín observes that the topics of the cycles are “themes that are important to us… and in which there is also an interesting cinematographic production that allows us to unite the two goals that we have: on the one hand, the artistic question, the cinema, the language; but also the political and cultural issue”.

He emphasises, “we’re not interested in having a projector and holding cinema cycles to show films that can be seen at the cinema, but rather to approach history, politics; these are the things that interest us”.

The themes, Martín says, “are very important historical events with which all of us have some familiarity, but if we accompany them with reading texts and watching films, we can see them in a new way, with new depth. We can take something away from all of this.”

To support the Ciclos de Cine Para Vecinos project, click here.

With more than a million species facing extinction, people around the world lacking safe drinking water, and glaciers melting at an alarming rate, the environment is nagging the minds of many, but not enough.

So the organisers, producers, and filmmakers hope to change that attitude here in Buenos Aires with this year’s Green Film Festival.

If a Tree Falls

“Increasingly more people are taking [the environment] into account. People are interested in the topic, but they do not involve themselves in something concrete,” says Astrid Hoffman, the executive producer of the Green Film Fest.

The international film festival highlights movies from around the world that take a look at environmental issues.

Clean Bin Project

“The films we select attract people who are already involved in the issue but also those who know nothing about it. We look for varied programming, documentaries, animation, fiction, and movies for kids. The most important thing is that there is equilibrium between the message of the film and its visual appeal,” says Hoffman.

The festival is taking place from 16th to 22nd August at Cinemark Palermo, Beruti 399. Each day movies will play from midday to midnight.

The movies look at varying environmental issues including deforestation, fuel, electricity, and meat consumption to name a few.

‘If a Tree Falls’, by director Marshall Curry, tells the captivating and yet haunting story of one of the members of the Earth Liberation Front (ELF). The documentary follows Daniel McGowan as he plots the burning of various public buildings including a horse slaughtering plant, an SUV dealership and a US$12m Vail, Colo., ski lodge. The film about the FBI named “domestic terrorists” won the Sundance Film Festival Documentary Editing Award and includes images that burn themselves into your memory.

On a lighter note, ‘The Clean Bin Project’ films the competition between Grant Baldwin, the director of the film, and Jen as they try to live for one year without producing any waste. The two don’t buy anything that would need to be thrown into a trashcan, so no packaging, boxes, bags, etc. While maintaining a lighter spirit the movie looks at the sobering underbelly of the garbage catastrophe all over the world: the Pacific Garbage Patch is an area of ocean the size of Texas where garbage outnumbers the plankton six to one. The hard-hitting facts create the perfect balance and although Jen and Grant sometimes wonder whether or not they can actually make a difference, they follow through with their plan and realise just how much one person can do.

Play Again

‘Play Again’ promises to be one of the most interesting films at the festival. Director Tonje Hessen Schei puts the spotlight on children in his compelling documentary about their disassociation with nature. With almost 90% of a child’s time spent indoors one quote sums up the entire message of the film: “What they will not value they will not protect and what they will not protect they will lose.”

Finally, among the many must-see documentaries at the festival is ‘The Island President’. The film, directed by Jon Shenk, takes a look at former Maldives president Mohamed Nasheed and his crusade to save his country from the dangerous effects of global warming. The tiny island nation in the middle of the Indian Ocean is under threat of sinking due to rising sea levels. The film goes with Nasheed as he plunges under water for local government meetings and raises his voice in international environment councils to grab the attention of the rest of the world.

The Island President

Overall the festival is set to welcome even more guests than last year’s 5,000 with some fantastic and captivating movies.

The event kicks off today with a bicycle tour to the cinema where Hoffman and her team will introduce two of the contributing directors, Josh and Rebecca Tickell, who directed ‘Fuel, Freedom’ and ‘The Big Fix’.

“We are a city that still has many outstanding issues in terms of sustainability,” says Hoffman. “We hope that the festival leaves people thinking and encourages them to change their everyday actions in order to create a better world.”

Film writer Wendy Gosselin attends the premier of a three-year film project that questions the education system worldwide.

There were two long lines of people waiting to get into the Buenos Aires premier of the documentary film ‘La Educación Prohibida’ (The Prohibited Education). Young people were drinking mate and lighting one another’s cigarettes; older people studied the crowd to try to greet someone they knew. The woman standing next to me was involved in production and very excited to talk more about the film with me. “It’s about the difference between schools and education, about how schools fail children in so many ways, making them into obedient subjects who are capable of little more than reciting what they’ve heard in class. It films educators discussing these issues in eight different countries.”

From what I gauged at the premier, there are two critical aspects of the project ‘La Educación Prohibida’. The first is the way this documentary film was made and distributed and its determination to continue on past the actual screening of the film. The idea was born three years ago when the young and clearly charismatic director Germán Doin (before the film was even shown, he received a standing ovation when he got up to speak) decided to do a short film and post it on youtube. Doin was plagued with what education should mean and what schools actually provide. His video was an invitation to others to pose similar questions, conduct interviews and come onboard the project. The final result is an audiovisual project involving a total of over 150 crew members, actors, filmmakers and artists and 704 co-producers worldwide. Monday marked the film’s premier at 151 independent screening rooms across the world. According to Doin, on Monday alone, 18,000 people had seen the film, a true achievement for a film project of this kind and a triumph for independent productions worldwide.

The second and, in my view, least interesting aspect of the project is the film itself. First of all, the film drags out across an astounding and unnecessary two hours seventeen minutes of fictional interludes, interviews with educators and textbook-like animations. As would be expected of a film with 704 co-producers, the film covers a range of topics that is too broad, covering everything from the history of humanity (rounded off with the classic depiction of the monkey standing up straighter until he at lasts takes on the form of a human male) to the history of education, with stops along the way to include comparisons of babies with tree seedlings (seedlings, it seems, take all the light and water they need from their environment; children would be best left to do the same).

For Doin and his co-producers, apparently, there is nothing worthwhile in today’s mainstream schools, which are basically enormous day care centres. The fictional interludes depict two high school students who claim that their education has taught them nothing and are willing to say as much at a school function, with renowned actor Gastón Pauls as their frustrated but somewhat sympathetic teacher. These are supplemented by actors who play clichéd Draconian teachers who stare straight at the camera and yell. We see elementary school students with their hands tied behind their backs and high school students dressed in grey t-shits reciting lessons in a robotic twang. I could almost hear Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’ playing in the background.

These fictional interludes are contrasted with thoughtful onscreen quotes by figures such as Maria Montessori, Paulo Freire, Albert Einstein, and Rudolf Steiner and by real life interviews with more “progressive” educators in the tradition of Waldorf, Kilpatrick, Sudbury and Montessori. They hail from institutions like the Pachamama School in Ecuador, the Ideas School in Colombia and the Red de Educación Libre in Spain: schools with no grades, no exams, and open groups comprised of students of all ages where young people move freely about according to their interests and abilities. The focus, according to these educators, should be on liberty and simultaneous exploration; children correct themselves and teachers limit themselves to serving as helpful guides. However, the few scenes where we actually see “examples” of this type of education are limited to nursery schools where children touch each other and build things out of blocks (doesn’t this happen at nursery schools everywhere?). Other depictions of desirable education are bucolic scenes where children roam free in large green spaces, locations for education that I am hard-pressed to imagine in an urban setting like Buenos Aires. From time to time, childish animations pop up showing frowning stick figures with bubble captions that read: “I am not just a number.”

There are some interesting questions posed by ‘La Educación Prohibida’: school curriculums are often obsolete and out of touch with the real world and many students do get lost in the system and then lose their desire to learn. Yet although we hear plenty from the representatives of the educational institutions where students are supposedly encouraged to explore their own individual potential, the students themselves are absent from the big screen. And in spite of the film’s broad criticism of the school system, real-life public school teachers of the countries surveyed are missing. Couldn’t these teachers have something more to contribute than the atrocious stereotypes we are subject to in their fictional depictions? In terms of the critique of the whole educational system, another glaring omission is the difference between public and private schools. Aren’t private schools more likely to fulfil the mandates of an open, more comprehensive education the co-producers all seem to favour?

What is ultimately “prohibited” in The Prohibited Education is the possibility of examining these questions in a real, in-depth way. This perhaps reflects the age of the production team, who are all aged 21 to 24. I would be very much interested to see what Doin and his crew have to say about education 20 years from now, when they have their own children and are obliged to make certain compromises in terms of their education in order to help them find their own way in the world. Reflections such as these could be summarized in a much shorter and succinct film on the same subject. Ultimately, I am more interested in the way Doin put together an international network to explore his subject and the way he used the digital medium to get it up on the web and spread the word – as of publishing, more than a half million people had downloaded the film from the website – than in the actual film his team of ardent collaborators produced.

Now in it’s 14th year, Instituto Multimedia DerHumALC’s (IMD) International Human Rights Film Festival has brought films focusing on human rights and environmental issues from all corners of the globe to Buenos Aires.

Still from Australian film 'Abendland'

The festival is putting on a mixture of short, medium and long documentary and fiction films, consistently focused on global human rights – a subject that occupies the consciousness of Latin Americans and Argentines due to a far too recent heritage of dictatorships, civil wars and social movements. It therefore makes it fitting for this consciousness to be embodied in the film festival’s theme this year: Identity.

“We chose the issue of Identity because we see it, metaphorically speaking, as a tree deeply rooted in the past to bloom in the actions and choices of the present,” explains IMC festival director, Florencia Santucho.

“Just like the branches and leaves turn towards the sun in search of vital energy, each person needs their identity to freely develop their potential and choose their own path.”

The Greek documentary The Argentina Experiment, one of the films running for the festival’s Feature Films Official Competition, illustrates this mentality by investigating how identity can be derived from the development of present decisions from the actions of the past. It follows Greek director Yorgos Avgeropoulos’s return to Argentina ten years after the economic crisis to see if Greece can learn fiscally from Argentina’s example.

Although constantly framed by the theme of identity, the festival branches off into many sub-topics covering a diverse range of issues, both international and national – from the environment, native peoples, childhood and youth, to migrants and gender views. The festival casts a wide scope, showing films on Colombia, on the Middle East, the Arab Spring, while also opening the ‘window’ to controversial political movements in Venezuela and Cuba.

Films competing in the Feature Films Contest include the Austrian documentary Abendland (meaning ‘evening land’ in German), a critical commentary on the Europe’s addiction to technology and security, and the influence of the Western world. In Acorzado, a Mexican fictional entry, the protagonist decides to make a raft from his neglected taxi and sail off for a better life in the USA, only to find himself in Cuba. The British documentary Cocaine Unwrapped on the other-hand offers a start to finish look at the cocaine trade and asks some important questions about the way governments are fighting back against the industry.

Each film in the festival teaches the viewer lessons on the way we look at life – from Journey to Portugal’s questioning of border control’s treatment of people, to the Canadian short documentary, Keepers of the Water, chronicling the plight of group of children protesting about environmental crime.

Putos Peronistas, Cumbia de un Sentimiento is in competition this year.

This year’s festival also sees the addition of the National Film Contest category, which focuses on homegrown talent. Drawing on the central theme of identity, Sin Punto y Aparte (No Full Stop) follows its director’s return to Argentina after fleeing to Israel during the military dictatorship, and discovering the role of Judaism in modern day Argentina. Putos Peronistas, Cumbia de un Sentimiento (The Peronist Fags, Cumbia Feeling) tells the fascinating story of a revolutionary political group of Peronist homosexuals in a district of Buenos Aires. Also catch the woman’s prison based Captive Moons, and the documentary Jopoi, All Together, on the legacy of Paraguayan indigenous language.

As festival director Florencia Santucho explains, each film corresponds to a “social memory [which] is deeply rooted to the identity of all communities where each and everyone knows who he or she is in view of the sum of past experiences, present commitments and future objectives.”

Through others’ exploration of identity the festival tries to make the viewer question their own perceptions, asking, “how much does the judgement of others influence our perception of ourselves?” The theme of Identity isn’t just there to tie the films together neatly; it’s also a recommendation on how to view these films.

All films are showing in ten venues across the city from the 23^rd to the 30^th May. For more information see the IMD festival’s website for the programme.

Prior to an epiphany in 2003, Korean/Brazilian film director Iara Lee had been immersed in the study of adapting the human limits of experience through technology. ‘Synthetic Pleasures’ (1995) panned across the subjects of virtual reality, biotechnology, plastic surgery, and designer drugs, previewing the facets of a transhuman future. “We amuse ourselves to death,” Lee quipped in a 1996 interview with Ruse Magazine.

An adoptive US-citizen and spouse of pro sports entrepreneur George Gund III, Lee was less amused by 2003. Observing the US invasion of Iraq with horror and concern over a future of self-destruction, she embarked on a documentary journey spanning five continents and answering those critics who questioned her political engagement as a filmmaker.

‘Cultures of Resistance’ (2010) – the product of Lee’s journey – is above all a testament to the power of cultural expression as a form of political activism. From the Amazon Basin to Nigeria, the Congo, Burma, Iran, and Palestine, among other locales, citizens and featured artists discuss the complexities of peace, violence, art, and resistance in pursuit of social justice.

Central to Lee’s depiction of global conflicts is the tension between waging violent and peaceful campaigns of resistance. After a barrage of themes imposed over a roving aerial map – “Imperialism”, “Oppressed Becomes Oppressor”, “Nonviolence”, “Art” – the film begins with footage from around the world on International Peace Day.

Following a disparate timeline of events that span roughly from the end of the 1980s to the present day, ‘Cultures of Resistance’ explores, side by side, the despairing mentality of resistance and hope. From the execution of Nigerian pacifist Ken Saro Wiwa in 1995, to the terror of repeated rape victims in the Democratic Republic of Congo, the fatal logic of violent mobilisation receives necessary if disheartening scrutiny, crucial to Lee’s candid portrayal of social struggle.

In the Amazon basin, chaos ensues over the Xingu dam project as an audience of sword-wielding indigenous residents ambush a representative of the project. Former child soldiers in Liberia provide chilling testimony of their abandoned life of drugs and violence. In the favelas of Rio, wanton attacks by both police and gangs prompt one artist to call the situation an “epidemic of minor conflicts everywhere”.

“Your mind must look at the darkness, but your will and action must be driven toward change,” says an Iranian activist.

The true alternative to violence, the film suggests, is resistance through art forms committed to activism. Musicians, editorial cartoonists, graffiti artists, poets, and dancers exhibit the ways in which cultural resistance facilitates education, unity, renewed identity, and the possibility of nonviolent reconciliation.

Some of the most alarming images in the film revolve around displaced children and their exposure to habitual violence. Many of the individuals interviewed lament and warn that the poverty and instability in these children’s lives will perpetuate cycles of violence in the absence of just reforms.

As in many documentaries that examine child poverty, the footage of wide-eyed kids staring into the camera lens highlights not only the gross inequality of electronics constructed from expropriated minerals, but the inadequacies of portraying daily life as these communities understand and live it. The range of locations and struggles considered in ‘Cultures of Resistance’ is so manifold that each and every instance, in its own right, could warrant several documentaries apiece.

To analyse this film strictly on the basis of the material presented would be inexcusably naïve, however, and too often ‘Cultures of Resistance’ contradicts its own criticism of the Western media’s suppression of facts.

It is beyond necessary for these underrepresented viewpoints to be heard and dignified with meaningful, committed dialogue, but the film seeks blamelessly to present a panoramic vision of a world in dire need, meanwhile condemning the left’s usual suspects of oppression to the status of monoliths.

The effect, unfortunate and short-sighted, is that deeply complicated and crucially different struggles, while informative in relative isolation, are minimised by an unspoken conviction: the superpowers of the world (“The United States and global public opinion” the film wryly jokes) will be locked in eternal antagonism.

It is no secret that Iara Lee was a proud participant in the 2010 Gaza Freedom Flotilla, a humanitarian mission protesting the Israeli-Egyptian blockade of Gaza. Lee was a passenger on board the Turkish MV Mavi Marmara, the only one of six vessels to clash violently with the blockading Israeli Defence Forces. In international waters, nine activists were killed and seven Israeli soldiers injured in a clear mismatch of defence capabilities.

The United Nations Human Rights Council later produced a report detailing the circumstances of the confrontation, calling Israel’s conduct a violation of human rights but also casting doubt on organisations involved in the Flotilla. More significantly for global public opinion, Lee managed to withhold some footage of the incident despite Israeli forces confiscating nearly all traces of what happened.

While Israel got a lead on international media coverage of the event, Lee’s below deck footage went severely underreported in mainstream sources until long after, giving credence to accusations of a Western stranglehold in the global public relations war.

The incident in Gaza bears significance to ‘Cultures of Resistance’ because it underscores the critical role and responsibility of the media in bringing conflicts around the world to the attention of populations everywhere.

While Lee’s film courageously empowers voices buried beneath the prevailing slant, it does too little in the way of engaging precisely those audiences it deems sources of the problem. The segment on Palestine – at times a damning and disturbing indictment of Israeli practice (deemed an apartheid regime) – lacks the kind of full contextualisation that would better serve the peace process than inflaming an intransigent neoconservative reaction. ‘Cultures of Resistance’ risks such audiences watching without seeing.

Perhaps this is part of the calculus of making a film that will encourage social and political activism. “Your anger is a gift,” Rage Against the Machine’s Zach de la Rocha often said. Rooted in the left’s countercultural tradition, it is little surprise that Lee skilfully bridges art and politics – just like the protagonists of her film and members of the Cultures of Resistance Network who do, undoubtedly, effect positive change in communities around the world.

There is a certain kind of synthetic pleasure in depicting a political aesthetic of resistance, one that assimilates righteousness, technology, and the human heart in the service of awakening cultural identity.

The question is whether ‘Cultures of Resistance’, with its global aspirations for justice and peace, stirs up viewers’ unflinching conviction at the expense of critical examination. To bring true understanding of one’s adversaries, as well as the divides separating us’s from them’s to begin with, would seem a more arduous and insecure road. But it would make us all rely less on cynicism for inspiration. Art will survive.

It is the 10th anniversary of the 2001 financial crisis in Argentina and we managed to get some of the best books and documentaries gathered in this financial crisis material round up to make you an expert on the subject. Check it out!

Documentaries:

‘Memoria del saqueo’

This documentary creates a timeline between the military dictatorship of 1976 until the beginning of the protesting in December 2001.

It reports 25 years of economic, financial and social problems because of the countries exorbitant debt as well political and financial corruption in government sectors.

This documentary is a complaint of the plundering of resources by multinational corporations with the complicity of the national government.

According to the director Pino Solanas, little has changed in Argentina since 2003: “the looting goes on.”

Director: Pino Solanas. Countries: Argentina/France/ Switzerland. Duration: 120 minutes. Year: 2004. Language: English and Spanish

‘The Take’

In the beginning of the Argentine economic collapse of 2001, former employees of the newly shut Forja plant in a suburban area of Buenos Aires, take over the factory as a part of a new movement that encourages workers to occupy bankrupt businesses to create jobs in an attempt to recuperate their means of living.

Locking themselves inside and with no bosses, 30 former auto-parts workers start running the once silenced factory and refuse to leave.

This act has the power to shake the basis of the whole globalization debate.

The president of the new worker’s co-operative, Freddy, and the head of the Movement of Recovered Companies, Lalo, know that their struggle is only beginning. Having to face a bureaucratic rampage amongst going to courts, dealing with cops and politicians, they know their success is far from secure. Their future is uncertain: they can either be granted legal protection or be evicted from the factory.

The presidential elections sets the background, having Carlos Menem – known as the main responsible for the crisis – as the front-runner. Menem’s supporters are the factory owners, who will get the factories back from the workers if their candidate wins.

Now the workers have to fight their bosses, the bankers and the whole economic system that do not really care about all the lives they affect by shutting down plants.

Directors: Avi Lewis and Naomi Klein. Country: Argentina/ Canada. Duration: 87 minutes. Year: 2004. Language: English and Spanish

‘The Argentina Experiment’

Greek documentary film maker Yorgos Avgeropoulos was living and working in Argentina between 2001 and 2002, during the crisis. He now returns to the country to re-examine the economic, political and social situation of Argentina and how it is handling the consequences of the collapse it faced ten years ago.

The documentary creates a parallel of what happened in December 2001 and what is happening now in Argentina ten years later.

According to the documentary, the ending of the neoliberal economic model in Argentine economic calamity of 2001 left 39 people dead – murdered by the police and bank securities – 30,000 collateral damages (suicides, heart attacks and strokes) and over 50% of the population submerged in poverty and misery.

Director: Yorgos Avgeropoulos. Country: Argentina. Duration: 100 minutes. Year: 2010-2011. Language: English, Spanish and Greek

Books:

‘Broken Promises? – The Argentine Crisis and Argentine Democracy’

Editors Edward Epstein and David Pion-Berlin have brought together an impressive group of Argentine and American experts to contribute to in this book. This is considered to be the first comprehensive account of the 2001 Argentine economic collapse.

The book shows insights of the role of the police and the military, as well as the analysis of the behaviour of the population and politicians as the economic crisis develops.

It also portrays the Argentina emerging from the crisis and the complexities of contemporary Argentine democracy.

Editors: Edward Epstein and David Pion-Berlin, 296 pages. Publisher: Lexington Books. First edition: March 2008. Language: English

‘History of The Argentine Crisis’

According to author Mauricio Rojas, “there are countries which are rich and countries which are poor. And there are poor countries, which are growing rich. And there is Argentina.”

Rojas’ book explains in a summary the journey and the reasons that lead Argentina to its economic and financial crisis in 2001. The text is written in a simple and accessible manner, perfect for the lay in Argentine politics or the ones that want to understand the crisis but not in depth.

Explaining the Argentine golden age between 1860 and 1930, which the country growth increased astonishingly, there came 70 years of stagnation as well as political, economical and especially social issues.

It sets the scene for the beginning of the 20^th century, when the country was richer than France, Italy and Sweden and its long and hard fall into bankruptcy.

The book also talks about the Perón years and its importance to Argentina, besides all the corruption, populism, nationalism and protectionism.

After years of inflation, aborted reforms, regional conflicts and political scandals, the country finds itself in a delicate political and financial situation.

Originally published in Swedish and later translated to English, Spanish and Portuguese, this book is highly recommended if you want to read a short but profound text to understand how such a powerful and country fell into financial failure.

Author: Mauricio Rojas, 130 pages. Publisher Cadal / Timbro. First edition: December 2003. Language: English, Swedish, Spanish and Portuguese

‘The Crisis of Argentine Capitalism’

Author Paul H. Lewis begins his book describing the development of the Argentine industry, emphasizing the period after World War II, in which Argentina had become the most industrialized nation in Latin America.

Lewis considered Perón and his military colleagues responsible for the end of the evolution of Argentine economy aiming dynamic capitalism.

He also describes the political disputes amongst peronists and anti-peronists between the years of 1955 to 1987 and points out how the post-Perón governments failed to incorporate the trade union movement in their list of priorities, causing – amongst other things – economic stagnation and an increase on the levels of violence.

This book is ideal for people who want a deep study on the roots of the Argentine instability and decline in the times before the crisis – or how Lewis calls “the politics of political stagnation” -, as it describes Argentina’s entrepreneurial classes in relation to foreign capital, labour, the government and the military.

It also differs from previous studies because it does not focus on parties or governmental institutions, but in pressure groups and their organization, development and political activities.

Author: Paul H. Lewis. 594 pages, Publisher: The University of North Carolina Press. First edition: February 1992. Language: English

‘And the money came rolling in (and out)’

Author Paul Blustein managed to expose in his book the flaws of the financial system worldwide and shows Argentina’s efforts in the 90s to become one of the developed countries – even being praised by the IMF, the World Bank and Wall Street.

Blustein – who also wrote a book about the IMF called “The Chastening”- gathered in “And the money came rolling in (and out)” hundreds of interviews with politicians, economists, stock market investors as well as parts of internal documents showing how the IMF ignored the vulnerabilities in the Argentine economic policy.

The narrative of the rise and fall of Argentine economy is very clear and makes the reading flow, being considered by many top publications such as The Economist and New York Sun to be a “page-turner”.

Author: Paul Blumstein. 304 pages, Publisher: PublicAffairs. First Edition: March 2005. Language: English

This is not pixar. It’s Cartón.

Festival Internacional de Cortos de Animación La Tribu, or simply Cartón as it’s been named, opened yesterday and runs until Sunday 6th November. Aimed specifically at amateur and recreational filmmakers, it’s the only Argentine festival dedicated to the celebration of independent animation.

In a city as big as Buenos Aires, you might imagine there’d be similarly minded festivals going on but you’d be wrong. Which is why, as the only festival with such strong independent roots, event organisers have high hopes for Cartón.

With this week serving as the festival’s debut, it’s an enthusiasm obviously shared by many. The event has garnered support from almost a dozen sponsors including ‘Anima’, a bi-annual animation festival held in Córdoba, which steals the title of the biggest in Latin America.

Event organizer Agustín Sinibaldi, explained that the idea sprang from a program on community radio channel La Tribu, which featured discussions about comics and short film. Rising to demand, Cartón combines the two.

With a focus on short animated film, the festival showcases the techniques of traditional computer generated, stop-motion and flash animation, in free public screenings held over the next four evenings.

The films themselves were submitted in response to a contest held by La Tribu, and selected from some 100 entries. Featuring films from animators in as many as 13 different countries, the agenda for the screenings sees them divided in to genres of comedy, drama, terror, music video clip, and children’s, and promises flash animations as short as one minute next to stop-motions of an incredible 18 minutes.

To qualify for entry into the contest, all films had to meet criteria of less than 30 minutes in length and, if Spanish was not the original language, had to include subtitles for easy judging. Four of the industry’s big names, including award-winning animator Juan Pablo Zaramella, will decide a winner in each category of production, based on content and technique.

Sinibaldi explained that outside of festivals such as Cartón, the internet is the most common place for people to stumble across or share independent animation and is one of the few ways many bedroom animators reach an audience. For many, this is the first time their work has been shown in a public forum, and for the winners, guaranteed appreciation and the opportunity to gain recognition is sufficient a prize. Many of the animators are more than satisfied with the exposure and the enjoyment of coming together in the festival environment.

Animation as we knew it before computers (Photo courtesy of Cartón)

Last night saw the bohemian bar at La Tribu community radio converted into a makeshift cinema. The neon walls burst to life as animators, directors, producers, illustrators, and fans alike, gathered to share and promote animated film as a medium for communication and expression of artistic ideas and techniques.

If you’re thinking of going along but worried that your Spanish isn’t up to scratch, Sinibaldi assures that the visual nature of the festival makes it fun. Whilst it’s true that cartoons are rooted in culture and language, Cartón showcases animation from Latin America and all over the world, without falling victim to language barriers. “The festival creates a way to learn about other cultures through art,” he says. “Even with the cultural code, there’s something universal about cartoons. It’s something that doesn’t need words, just images and sounds.”

Between now and Sunday, what you get besides an animation overload, is four evenings of screenings, discussions, book presentations and talks by some of the festivals sponsors and animation schools. There’s even a drawing workshop; but if you’ve always wanted to learn how to draw like a professional, you’re out of luck. Tagged onto Saturday afternoon’s ‘Infantile’ section, and with the promise of cookies, this one’s only for budding animators eight years old and upward.

And what about the kids? While cartoons are normally associated with children, the alternative and adult content in some of last night’s previews suggests that outside of Saturday afternoon, this might not be the place to bring them. But if you’re looking to relive the Argentine childhood you never had, there will be weekend appearances from kid’s favourite Hijitus, along with other classic and not so classic characters from Argentina’s animation archives.

The winning films will be announced at the festival finale, which takes place on Sunday at Cine Cosmos, the cinema of the Universidad de Buenos Aires (UBA). The selected films will be shown for a second time following a screening of Argentine cartoon ‘Mono Relojero’. The oldest surviving animation reel in Argentina’s cartoon history, it follows the adventures of a clockwork monkey, and will be accompanied by a live score from the aptly named ‘Chancho a Cuerda’ orchestra, which translates as the wind up pig.

With its edgy setting and alternative, independent character, Cartón is the festival for amateur artists, who might see their passion for animation endure an eight hour day and still find the energy to translate it in to the sometimes painstaking work of creating a cartoon.

Uniting directors, producers, filmmakers, artists, illustrators and animators who might not otherwise have met, Cartón offers a prime opportunity to network and connect, and most of all, brings the bedroom animators out of their bedrooms.

While Hollywood is known for action and special effects, France scores with intellectual depths, the British go for realism and Italian movies show us what la dolce vita looks like – what comes to our mind when we think of argentine cinema?

Nothing? Really? No problem, you are about to find out.

The world of Argentine cinema has many faces. La Argentina is a traditional country, and to a great extent, so are its movies. Very true to its culture, Argentine movies will give you an insight into their people’s way of thinking and behaving. In accordance to its turbulent past, many films treat hard subjects, such as politics and social injustice. On the other hand, modern Argentine cinema goes beyond traditionalism and keeps up with international standards.

Argentina’s film scene is growing rapidly. The highest number of films in the history of the country were produced in 2009. Due to the talent of its directors and actors, Argentina has managed to become one of the most important producers of films in the Spanish speaking world.

Our Top 5 will give you the “Introduction to Argentine Cinema 1.01”: What Argentines love and what moves them, which films received international attention, what does el cine argentino offer cinematography wise – these movies will lay the foundation to understand all the aspects of the country’s cinema.

1. Nueve Reinas, 2000, Dir: Fabián Bielinsky

If you ever find yourself discussing cinema with a group of Argentines, mention the “nine queens” and you’ll be sure to impress. Showing you everything you need to know about the world of dodgy porteños, this movie is Argentina’s favourite.

‘Nueve Reinas’ is a movie written and directed by Fabián Bielinsky in 2000. It features Argentina’s best loved actor, Ricardo Darín.

Juan and Marcos are typical porteño con-men, whose paths cross while Juan is scamming a cashier. Impressed with his skills, Marcos lets Juan come along to his cons. Juan’s dad is in jail, so he hopes to raise money with the help of Marcos, to bribe his dad’s judge and get him out of jail. Then an unexpected opportunity presents itself: a former con friend of Marcos convinces them to sell his fake copies of the high value ‘Nine Queens’ stamps to a rich collector. He promises them a profit margin of US$200,000. The two accept, but right before closing the deal things start to go wrong. A thieve steals the fake stamps right out of their hands. They try to buy the real stamps off a widow for a price low enough to still make profit. Though Juan mistrusts Marcos, he puts in US$50,000 on top of Marcus’s contribution of US$200,000 to buy the stamps and resell them at US$450,000. After receiving the cheque, the two go to the bank to cash it. Unfortunately for them the bank just crashed, making the cheque worthless. It seems that the two cons are ruined, but the final scene reveals that things did not happen exactly the way they seemed – you can never trust a porteño con!

This movie is funny, light and smart, perfect for a relaxed evening when all you want is some light entertainment. Pleasant side effect: No Argentine will ever have the chance to screw you over, because you will be ahead of the game!

2. El Secreto de sus Ojos, 2009, Dir: Juan José Campanella

This breathtaking movie is the second Argentine export to win an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film in 2010. It is directed by Juan José Campanella. ‘The secret in their eyes’ is a 2009 production starring once again Argentina’s favourite, Ricardo Darín.

It tells the story of the legal counsellor Benjamin Espósito (Ricardo Darín), who after 25 years comes back to Buenos Aires to write a novel about one of his old murder cases, hoping to find closure. The case haunted him ever since, just as his secret love for his former superior Irene had.

In 1974 a young women was violated and later killed. Espósito reluctantly takes on the case. When talking to the dead woman’s husband, he is deeply touched and develops a strong bond with him. Together with Irene they hunt down the killer and bring him to jail.

The movie is influenced by Argentina’s 1976-83 dictatorship. This period is widely recognised as one of the bloodiest historical episodes of the 20th century, with human right activists estimating that 30,000 people disappeared during that time. ‘El secreto de sus ojos’ includes the issue in the plot. The killer collaborates with the regime and is therefore released after just one year of imprisonment. Benjamin, Irene and the victim’s husband Ricardo have to live with the knowledge that the killer will go unpunished. With this, director Campanella demonstrates the open wounds from which many Argentines suffer until today with respect to the happenings and unresolved cases during the dictatorship.

When Benjamin returns, not only does he discover new information concerning the case, but he reunites with Irene and gets a second chance to tell her how he always felt about her.

‘El secreto de sus ojos’, as the title already suggests, puts focus on the eyes of the protagonists, and the secrets they betray. The victim’s eyes and the secretive expression in those of her husband plague Benjamin’s mind. The tension between Irene and Benjamin is not vocalised in the movie; it is only to be found in the way they look at each other.

This movie is an argentine masterpiece in terms of photography, direction, acting and suspense. Though it is not rich in action, you will be highly touched and surprised – their eyes will follow you all night!

3. El Hombre De Al Lado, 2009, Dir: Mariano Cohn and Gastón Duprat

This movie breaks with the mould of Argentine movies. No screaming and cursing argentines, no political context and no family get-together – this film is a smart black comedy that shows what Argentina has to offer in terms of photography and intelligent portrayals of social relationships, especially among different classes.

‘The man next door’ is directed by Mariano Cohn and Gastón Duprat. The 2009 production won the award for cinematography at the Sundance Film Festival in 2010.

The main character Leonardo is a popular industrial designer who lives with his wife and daughter in a house famous for having been built by Le Corbusier. He appears to be a distant and narcissistic person. Next door lives Victor, an unpleasant and vulgar salesman. When Victor starts to put in a window in his apartment that is located directly in front of Leonardo’s kitchen window, a conflict is inevitable. The situation is intensified by daily incidents between the two neighbours. While Victor mostly ignores the complaints of his neighbour, Leonardo becomes obsessed with the conflict and it destroys his everyday life.

Actor Rafael Spregelburg does a remarkable job interpreting the main character Leonardo and his ambivalent personality. During the film, sympathies switch between the characters and you will never be quite sure whose side you are on.

The ending bears a surprise that divides the audience between loving and hating the film. However, one thing is certain: the intelligence and cinematography of the film will impress you. The movie also successfully breaks with the mould of culturally specific Argentine productions. Those from Europe or the US will be able to identify with the characters just as easily as any Argentine would.

This movie is perfect to watch if you want to see modern Argentine cinema that gives a universal perspective on human behaviour and excels in photography and story development. Though you might not get an adrenaline kick out of this movie, it will definitely make you think!

4. La Historia Oficial, 1985, Dir: Luis Puenzo

‘The Official Story’ is an Academy Award winning drama from 1985. Directed by Luis Puenzo, this movie treats the delicate time after the dictatorship in Argentina. It was honoured with not only an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film in 1986, but also with a Golden Globe in the same category. Actress Norma Aleandro won the award for Best Actress at the Cannes Film Festival in 1985.

The story is based on real events that occurred during the dictatorship in Argentina from 1976 to 1983. The new born babies of the desaparecidos (people who went missing after being persecuted by the regime) were often given up for adoption to people who were either involved in the regime or did not ask questions about the family background of the child. Until this day, the families of the desaparecidos, along with the Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo, are fighting to get the children of their dead relatives back.

Alicia, a teacher in middle school, and Roberto, a well situated business man, fulfil their long-cherished dream of parenthood by adopting little Gaby. After a few years of happiness, Alicia cannot ignore the feeling that the adoption of Gaby might have had something to do with the dictatorship. She starts to investigate to find out the truth about her daughter’s birth.

Alicia, naive and unaware of the environment she lives in, did not know about the bloody events that occurred during the dictatorship. Only when a friend of hers returns to Argentina after years in exile and tells her about her destiny, does Alicia start to realize what really happened in her country. For the first time she listens to her students, who tell her that the books authorised for teaching are written by murderers, hired by the regime. She begins to notice people demonstrating in the street, fighting to get their children back, which were taken by the regime.

When she realises that she never had the chance to meet Gaby’s birth mother, she gets curious and is determined to find out the truth about her daughter’s parents. What she is about to find out will change her life forever.

This movie finds a way of helping the viewer to understand what it was truly like to live in Argentina after the dictatorship. How people found out only bit by bit what really happened in their country, how the country mourned for the victims that were never found and the crimes that were never acknowledged. While history books may have given you the facts, this movie will make you experience what it means to feel the desperation of losing your loved ones.

This film will overwhelm you with its abundance of emotion and its touching performances. Be prepared to be touched – and dive into the years after Argentina’s most violent decade.

5. Esperando La Carroza, 1985, Dir: Alejandro Doria

If you ever want to experience an ordinary Argentine Sunday, this movie will bring the adventure right into your living room. Family members shouting at each other de la puta madre, deception and madness at its best – this movie shows you what goes on behind Argentine doors when the family comes together.

Alejandro Doria directed the cult comedy from 1985. It is an adaption of a theatre play written by the Uruguayan Jacob Langsner, first performed in 1962. The movie features some of the best known Argentine theatre actors of the time, such as Antonio Gasalla, China Zorilaa, Luis Brandoni and Betiana Blum.

Family time – three siblings get together with their wives to enjoy a lunch together – which after a mere two minutes turns into a heated discussion about who will take care of their mother, Mama Cora. By the time you get the feeling they are about to kill each other, the group receives surprising news: Mama Cora has killed herself.

Feeling guilty about their attempts to shake off the responsibility of looking after their own mother, and the verbal attacks that accompanied them, an emotional outburst ensues, resulting in an even more aggressive and yet hilarious fight. Too bad they do not know the confused Mama Cora is right next door.

Make sure to have some aspirin at hand when you watch the movie, the screaming matches might give you a headache. However, you cannot help but love the characters, so do not miss out on an opportunity to take a seat and lunch with the Argentines.

Dedicated to Octavio Getino, author of ‘Cine Argentino’, ex-director of the National Institute for Cinema, for his continuing labour of love in the field of Argentine cinema, and without whom this article could not exist: truly an example of Gaucho nobility.

Filmmaking is often called the glamour industry, an apt name given that the etymology of glamour stems from the Old Scottish gramarye meaning ‘enchantment’ or ‘spell’. Few entertainments can boast of such magic, where image and poetry and music all come together harmoniously in a sustained suspension of reality. Indeed, there are few people on the planet who have not succumbed to its spell, and judging from the full movie theatres and quantities of students of cinematography, Argentines are no different. Nonetheless the film industry here is struggling despite the keen interest and abilities of local talent: directors, actors, and photographers. Given the high quality of the films produced in Argentina, proven by movies such as ‘El Secreto de sus Ojos’ (2009) or ‘La Historia Oficial’  (1985), both winners of the Academy Award for Best Foreign Film, one would think that filmmaking was an extremely profitable form of national expression. Unfortunately, this is not the case. Argentine filmmaking was originally developed and remains under a framework of neocolonial dependence, and local filmmakers confront major economic and cultural obstacles in order to develop their art form.

Buenos Aires: Fin du siecle

Near the end of the 19th century, there were two types of immigrants who arrived on Argentine shores: the great majority came from the underdeveloped areas of Italy and Spain and quickly adapted to the local creole population; and those immigrants from the industrially developed countries – France, England and Germany – who created a professional and economic elite, largely keeping to themselves.

Thus it is not surprising that commercial activity in Buenos Aires was largely controlled by foreigners, especially the English. Not only were trains, streetcars, gas provision, meat and grain production controlled by them, but there was also a huge influx of ideologues, bureaucrats and technocrats fleeing the demographic boom of the late Victorian and Edwardian ages. In 1875, the city registered 250,000 British citizens, but by 1913, there were over two million holding over 76% of industrial concerns and 81% of businesses. As George Canning, English diplomat and promoter of the first treaty between the newly founded Argentina and a European nation, once said: “We prefer the rights of Englishmen over the rights of man.”

In terms of ideology, this was the period in Argentina when socialism and positivism, with its emphasis on scientific method, took root in the minds of these elites who looked upon the dichotomy between life in the Americas and life in the mother England as a simple distinction between ‘barbarism’ and ‘civilisation’. In other words, there was a tendency to prefer imported goods, fashion and culture as expressions of civilisation over local ones, and although the concept of ‘colonisation’ probably was distasteful to these enlightened few, they accepted the hegemony of Europe over America and duly sought only to ‘improve’ what already was arguably an outpost of Britain. Local intellectuals apparently shared this sentiment, echoing former president Sarmiento’s words written half a century earlier: “Although the European invasion can only be seen as detrimental and ruinous for the nation, yet it is useful in terms of Civilisation and Commerce.”

Eugenio Py at work in the late 1800s.

Given this predilection for European culture, it should be no surprise that moving pictures caught on fast here. On 28^th July 1886 Lumiere’s ‘The Train’s Arrival’ became the first film to be shown in Argentine territory; scarcely a year later, French photographer Eugenio Py created the first film registered and processed in the country: ‘La Bandera Argentina’  (The Argentine Flag). The race was on. In the year 1900, the first cinema opened, the Salon Nacional, and the first drama was filmed locally in 1908: ‘El Fusilamiento de Dorrego’  (The shooting of Dorrego). Soon after, the first big production companies were founded and then in 1915, what is considered the first Argentine blockbuster: ‘Nobleza Gaucha’  (Gaucho Nobility). Not only did this film artistically cover aspects of Argentine reality, but it was also an economic success, encouraging production companies to continue their efforts in this area. Curiously, the economic success of Nobleza Gaucha is considered to be due to its appeal to the masses, an important distinction from successes in the years to follow.

Europe in Eclipse

World War I dimmed the excessive European influence over Argentina, although the die was cast, and the tendency to prefer everything European remains to this day. During the war years, when Argentina’s ties to Europe were loosened, the nation began to develop new forms of national and cultural expression, particularly movies, and these with a distinct social perspective.

poster for 'El tango de la muerte

The first steps taken in Argentine filmmaking were made by José Agustín Ferreyra, one of the most noted directors of the period right after the Great War. Ferreyra believed that what Argentine filmmaking needed was “a little more love, zeal, and less carelessness and disdain, for ourselves and our own.” Considered neorealist before the term was even coined, he faced an ongoing battle with the owners of the theatres: “The movies were only shown on Mondays in the worst neighbourhoods where fewer people went. And the producers, if they paid at all, would only pay a pittance.” Nonetheless Ferreyra today is considered one of the fathers of Argentine filmmaking, a symbol of the desire to reflect the nation as it is.

Another important figure of this period was Fédérico Valle, a prominent developer of documentaries. He created his own newsreel company which produced over 500 editions up until the year 1930. He was forced, for economic reasons, to sell his archives to a comb factory which wanted to use the celluloid for its factory; the National Archives had repeatedly shown no interest in obtaining the collection. Another important name is Hector Quiroga who filmed the insurrection of 1919 and included the footage in his film, ‘Juan Sin Ropa’  (Juan Undressed), a movie which reflected a period in Argentine history when “the working man refused to continue kow-towing to an all-powerful lord, and began to strive to recover his dignity and other undeniable human aspirations”. The underlying themes to movies such as Nobleza Gaucha and Juan Sin Ropa touched several national nerves, and appealed to all audiences.

The Golden Era of Baireswood

As one of the principal producers of films, as well as of cinema’s raw materials – actors, technicians, photographers, and scriptwriters – in Latin America, Argentina became one of the main exporters of movies to other countries in the region. During the 1930s while Europe was still in a process of stabilisation after the Great War, and the US has fallen under the weight of Wall Street, Argentina grew rapidly, especially in those areas where it did not directly compete against the importation of British merchandise (a result of the Roca-Runcimann treaty, where Argentina agreed to export meat to Britain as well as hand over the control of its principal slaughterhouses and meat packing industries in exchange for British manufactured goods). This new industrial force also benefited the film industry, allowing Argentina to take the lead in Spanish-speaking cinematography.

Libertad Lamarque (El Alma del Bandoneon, 1935)

This period also saw the transition from silent movies to ‘talkies’. Local production companies invested in equipment and infrastructure, and effects were soon forthcoming: ‘Munequitas Porteñas’  (Port Dolls, 1931) and ‘Tango’  were huge hits in the local market, but also started two divergent paths for Argentine filmmaking: the one, inspired in popular culture with the neorealistic tendency to soul-searching, and the other, of bourgeois nature, which in the words of the novelist and essayist, Estela Dos Santos “took the path of industry and commerce…with a system of tango melodrama that would make Libertad Lamarque into the feminine counterpart of Gardel, the greatest star and most sacred monster in the style of Hollywood.” Needless to say, the latter style, along the lines of Hollywood, was more successful.

The two main directors that emerge from this time period as advocates of a distinct Argentine film aesthetic were Mario Soffici and Leopoldo Torres Ríos. Soffici eloquently expressed his vocation to Argentine filmmaking thus: “Cinematography (here) must be renewed, from the inside out. We are misguided if we allow other mannerisms, forms or styles come to us and pass them off as our own. If we have nothing to say, it’s better to remain silent. A prudent silence is worth more than any showy or insincere manifestation.”

Despite the fact that during the 30s and 40s Argentine filmmaking was free market – that is, there was no government aid nor regulation of the industry – film production continued to grow undiminished leaving behind all other regional competition. Nonetheless the local film industry was playing a losing game by investing more in Hollywood style films; although business appeared to be good, this was due more to the problems other nations were undergoing, rather than any merit on behalf of the films produced. It would be only a question of time before the nations, innovators of film producing and technology, would begin to assert their hegemony again.

A Recipe for Bankruptcy

The real beneficiaries of the film industry in Argentina during this period were the distributors and the theatres. The producers, according to film historian Jose Agustin Mahieu “with suicidal improvisation, turned their films in with a fixed price, so the greatest gains made by eventual blockbusters stayed in the distributors’ hands… the industry’s axis was in the hands of numerous intermediaries that absorbed the greater part of the ticket profit. Little by little, the production companies were taken over by these intermediaries who would offer advances on future movies, for which they would then receive more advantageous conditions.” These intermediaries were, in fact, representatives of foreign production companies within the local system and had no incentive to foment the production of local films.

Other major changes in Argentine society of this time left their mark on the film industry. The move from a primarily agricultural nation to an industrial one with a corresponding move of workers from the countryside to the city occurred against the backdrop of World War II and the ideological conflicts incurred therein. According to intellectual, journalist, historian, editor, political activist Rodolfo Puiggros, this period was marked by “the shading and hiding of the internal causes that determine the contradictions of Argentine society, and the placing upfront of external causes, thus substituting the (traditional) struggle against imperialism and oligarchy for the fight for democracy against fascism.” In other words, the traditional struggle that had marked Argentine society since revolutionary times, the attempt to consolidate a unique identity versus the one imposed by the different waves of colonisation, was subsumed by the more global struggle determined by the contention between democracy and fascism.

The political powers of the time preferred to side with the anglophile ideologies, against the rising working class, that was immersed in the social upheaval concomitant to obtaining labour rights: the forming of unions, strikes, marches and the like. Curiously, the workers who thus fought for their rights were considered ‘barbaric’ and their claims were ‘illegitimate’ when faced by the now ‘democratic’ powers (i.e. oligarchy) that sided with the Allied forces. The great majority of the middle classes, anxious to rise on the social ladder, were quick to unite themselves to the ‘civilizing’ forces in power, and the movie production studios reflected this shift.

Madame Bovary, 1947

Natural scenery was substituted for huge sets, which could more easily portray a Russian palace or Paris in the winter. Actors were cast if they showed predominately European features, and those of mixed race were cast in secondary or ‘evil’ roles. Language was also modified and the characteristic ‘voseo’ of Buenos Aires was altered to the civilised ‘tu’ of Castilian Spain. Local themes were also discarded and the great works of Western civilisation were portrayed: Shakespeare, Flaubert, Ibsen, Tolstoy. In short, filmmaking in Argentina became another tool for neocolonisation in which local filmmakers were the unwitting accomplices, forced by economic and social demands to produce movies which did not reflect the national reality. And inversely, the movies that were produced were not attractive to the middle class who could not identify with the values expressed therein.

In addition, post war attempts by the US to neutralize all competition in the region led to the limitation of the importation of celluloid, at the time considered to be of strategical value. Stymied at every turn, the industry asked for government intervention: in 1944, the first protectionist decree took effect and theatres throughout the nation were obligated to show Argentine films. In an article titled “The transnational influence of Argentine cinema”, authors Muraro and Cantor affirm that thanks to government protectionism and subsidizing “the film industry was able to produce 32 movies in 1946 and achieve its greatest output – 56 films – in 1950. In addition, the showing of foreign films diminished; only 131 were shown in 1950, still surpassing local production by a wide margin.” This period of protectionism was notable not for the quality of the films produced, but by its mediocrity; according to Getino, “[The movies] did not need to interest anybody…many times the investment was assured even before commercialisation began. There were so many advantages offered to the industry as well as the obligation to show national films that many invested in production studios.” Nonetheless hardly anybody risked capital in infrastructure – it was a time of fulfilling ‘quotas’ – and few directors risked altering the tried and proven formula provided by Hollywood. Hugo del Carril’s ‘Las aguas bajan turbias’  (Murkily Flows the River) is a notable departure from this formula, portraying unjust working conditions in the yerba mate plantations in northern Argentina, where workers were only released—downstream—once they had died.

The Entity

The transition period from the post war era was marked by a decrease in movie production in part due to the advent of the television, and in part due to the change in policy after the fall of Perón. Dos Santos maintained that “after Perón’s fall from power, the film industry was paralysed. Protectionism ceased to exist and cinemas were no longer forced to show Argentine films. There was a free-for-all to import foreign films which the public devoured enthusiastically.” In 1956, only 12 movies were filmed in Argentina, but 576 foreign films were shown in local cinemas.

Poster for 'Los 40 cuartos'

Another obstacle to local film production was censorship which reared its ugly head in Argentina in 1963 as a way of controlling the ‘pornographic’ material in some independent films such as ‘Alias Gardelito’  (Alias Little Gardel, 1962) or ‘Los Cuarenta Cuartos’  (The Forty Rooms, 1963). This same year government subsidies for filmmakers were recalled as well as grants for short film producers. Suddenly filmmaking became an almost impossible labour.

Military control increased over the following years, usually in alliance with the Catholic Church, or what locals call the union between ‘the boots and the cassock’, and censorship was officially embodied in an organism called the ‘Ente’, or the Entity, formed by anonymous members of moralist groups only known as ‘Fathers’ or ‘Mothers’ or ‘League for Childhood Protection’. In a startling reverse during Perón’s third administration, the Entity was replaced by specialists in psychology, education, sociology, religion, film and culture as well as by representatives of the different labour unions. Over a period of 14 months between May 1973 and July 1974, the new Entity strived to present a project for a new law that would aid the sector including: 1) the release of all films banned for political/ideological motives, domestic and foreign alike; 2) an easing of censorship; 3) the improvement of the national film production; 4) the increase in national production; 5) the increase in public attendance; 6) a strengthening of the industry’s organisation and participative policies; 7) the elaboration of a legislative project to free and foment industrial and cultural values of cinematography. This movement, so heartening to the flagging producers, directors, and actors of the time, was not to last; the military coup d’êtat of 1976 saw to that.

Under the Military Junta

The effects that the coup had on all cultural life in Argentina have been widely documented; the film industry is no exception. Thus, the newly conceived project for legislation was almost immediately aborted, and all activities of incipient labour unions in the film sector abruptly ceased. Censorship began again, this time under the Entity’s new director, Miguel P. Tato; movies that had been banned and then released, were banned once again. Any reason was sufficient: sexual content, religious content, as well as a wide range of ideological content. Fewer movies were produced and those that were produced were of a slapstick variety, of little cultural value. Many directors, old and young, fled the country or were assassinated or disappeared; production companies folded; movie theatres closed. In short, Getino describes the situation thus: “the people’s access to films was banned, and in a clear political maneuver, their attention was turned to television broadcasting which was controlled entirely by the intelligence services, the Army’s psychological forces, and by the puppets of cultural policy imposed from 1976 on.”

This closing of the theatres corresponded with the denial of political, economic, social and cultural rights, which accordingly ceased to reflect the national experience altogether. While before the predilection for a foreign aesthetic had been a matter of choice, after the military coup, Argentina and Argentines practically disappeared from the silver screen. It is fitting, a somewhat tacit admittance of guilt, that the military repressors responsible for the cessation of all these rights did not document their deeds, nor allow their moment in history to be immortalized in movies. The efforts to ‘civilise’ the nation have ended up in ‘barbarism’; thus Argentina is a place where, according to Getino, “history is dominated by the conflict of ‘autonomous development’ (i.e. liberation) versus the ‘development of underdevelopment’ (i.e. dependence), with its most dramatic confrontations determined in the fields of culture and cinematography.”

Modern Times

The Argentine filmmaking industry is still reeling from the consequences of the dictatorship and the exacerbated neo-liberal policies that characterised the democratic governments immediately following, although there are now signs that it is recovering. The latest (2009) revision to the National Cinema Law requires that local movie theatres show at least one Argentine film per quarter, a requirement that is barely met, not because of a lack of movies produced here but by lacklustre advertising and ill-conceived commercial practices in general. In Argentina, cinemas are more likely to show Hollywood fare because people eat more popcorn, and the concession stands are where the real money is made. This recalls Eddie Izzard’s take on US vs. English films; Argentine filmmaking must have more in common with English productions than is commonly thought.

On the other hand, mainstream distributors from the US force a package deal on Argentine theatres interested in showing a particular blockbuster; they must take another three not so successful films in order to receive the hit one. 

Ultimately, filmmaking is a business like any other according to the present value system. Ability and talent take second place to money, and the efforts to create an authentically national expression using film as media has been affected by the global distributing behemoth which is Hollywood. Even India, which produces more movies per year than any country in the world cannot compete with the US for distribution.

The Human Rights Film Festival

As Argentina hosts the 13th annual Human Rights Film Festival this year, we would do well to remember that democracy itself is based upon one of the most important and basic human rights: the right of free speech and expression. Filmmaking is and always has been an example of the exercise of this right. As can be seen by the history of cinema in Argentina, filmmakers here have been set upon by an inordinate amount of threats to their ability and opportunity to express themselves freely whether the obstacles take the form of neo-colonial tendencies, imperialistic blackmail, fascist repression, neo-liberal market favouritism, or just plain bad luck. Yet they have persisted in their labour, with what can only be termed as ‘gaucho nobility’. Argentine filmmakers have something to say; the least we can do is pay attention.