The Trans Memory Archive gathers the images and stories of trans women for more than 50 years, preserving the memory of those who suffered the outrages of the police, the abandonment of the State and the hostility of the society that witnessed, indolent, a silent genocide. Cintia, Edith, María Belén and Trachyn survived. They share with us the intimacy and complexity of those who faced injustice and pain with humor and creativity, but also with organization and community. In the style of a documentary essay, the series is structured along four axes, each one starring one of them: they talk about carnival, affection, exile and organization, and through their personal experiences they open the door to understand the reality of an entire community.

The Trans Memory Archive gathers the images and stories of trans women for more than 50 years, preserving the memory of those who suffered the outrages of the police, the abandonment of the State and the hostility of the society that witnessed, indolent, a silent genocide. Cintia, Edith, María Belén and Trachyn survived. They share with us the intimacy and complexity of those who faced injustice and pain with humor and creativity, but also with organization and community. In the style of a documentary essay, the series is structured along four axes, each one starring one of them: they talk about carnival, affection, exile and organization, and through their personal experiences they open the door to understand the reality of an entire community.

In a desert, a group attempts to perform the pericón, a traditional folk dance. Their choreography breaks with the usual steps that symbolize belonging to a binary society. Their personal stories give an insight into how life in this area has always been an act of resistance for some. They resist the idea of conquest and the idea that otherness means emptiness.

The film follows Agustina as she finds the videotapes that her father Jaime recorded before the accident that took his life. The family secrets surrounding Jaime push Agustina to get involved. Her search will reveal a story marked by sexuality and political activism.

The film follows Agustina as she finds the videotapes that her father Jaime recorded before the accident that took his life. The family secrets surrounding Jaime push Agustina to get involved. Her search will reveal a story marked by sexuality and political activism.

In Córdoba, far from the Argentine capital, the end of a military regime promises a spring that is all too brief. “La Delpi” is the only survivor of a group of friends who are transgender women and drag-queens, who began to die of aids in the late 80s. In a Catholic and conservative city, the Grupo Kalas made their weapons and trenches out of improvised dresses and lip-syncing. Today the images of unique and unknown footage are not only a farewell letter, but a manifesto to friendship.

In Córdoba, far from the Argentine capital, the end of a military regime promises a spring that is all too brief. “La Delpi” is the only survivor of a group of friends who are transgender women and drag-queens, who began to die of aids in the late 80s. In a Catholic and conservative city, the Grupo Kalas made their weapons and trenches out of improvised dresses and lip-syncing. Today the images of unique and unknown footage are not only a farewell letter, but a manifesto to friendship.

The struggles of a group of unionized sex workers in post-pandemic Buenos Aires. The increasingly police and paranoid normality projects upon them new images of abjection and contagion. Can the collective body of that union preserve life, or at least a life worth living? Its profession depends on what causes it so much trembling: the contact between bodies.

The struggles of a group of unionized sex workers in post-pandemic Buenos Aires. The increasingly police and paranoid normality projects upon them new images of abjection and contagion. Can the collective body of that union preserve life, or at least a life worth living? Its profession depends on what causes it so much trembling: the contact between bodies.

On 3 November 1995, the Rio Tercero Military Factory exploded in Cordoba, prompting thousands of projectiles to fire and spread in the surrounding villages, in a tragedy that would leave seven dead and hundreds injured and affected. At the time, Natalia Garayalde was a twelve-year-old girl who lived with her family near the place, and he was still playing filming with the video camera her father had bought, when she recorded the immediate moments of the burst, while her family escaped the explosions, as well as the daily activities of the village in the days and weeks that follow. Twenty-five years later, that material captured from a girl's candid and surprised gaze it becomes a thoughtful and painful testimony about the family, the destruction of a city, the traces of horror, the sinister truth about the case.