In the Argentinian city of Tucumán, Miguel is making a living as a “motochorro”, a thief who snatches people’s belongings fromhis motorbike. When he steals the purse of Elena, an old woman, he ends up hurting her badly. After the brutal incident, Miguel is plagued by guilt and unable to forget about his victim. In an attempt to make things right, he conceals his true identity from the old woman and starts to take care of the injured and unsuspecting Elena. The closer he gets to her the more he becomes entangled in his own lies. Afraid of telling Elena the truth, Miguel continues to be haunted by his past and is unable to find true redemption.

A comedy during confinement? Probably so. A portrait of a little girl and her family during confinement? Apparently so. An absurd, Beckettian musical shot during confinement? Exactly, yes.

Two teenage outcasts, who resent their schoolmates and teachers, resolve to spread panic in school through a series of anonymous vandalism acts. Little by little, the game loses its innocent approach and the boys find themselves absorbed in a dangerous spiral of violence that seems to have no limits.

A teenager goes to the foothills of the Andes to deal with his phobias.

A Concrete Cinema draws close to the intangible spell that is implied by the need to somehow belong to film, to give something back to it, even if we feel it is impossible. The film tells the story of Omar, a construction worker from Villa Elisa, a small town in the province of Entre Ríos, Argentina, who rejects the idea that big screens may disappear. He will do anything he can to preserve that which he has held on to since he was a child, even though he has to build it with the remnants of what was.