La Botera

Set within a neglected Buenos Aires neighborhood, La Botera follows Tati, a girl living alone with her father whilst navigating the challenges of adolescence.

Tati is already an independent woman. The opening scene shows her getting up, making breakfast, and getting ready for school on her own. We’d think she was living alone until the phone rings and Tati tries to wake up her previously unseen dad to answer it. She also sticks up for herself against the bullies at and outside of school in contrast to her childhood friend and confidently initiates conversation with people older than herself, such as a local boat rower she plays boyfriend and girlfriend with. However, she still retains the naivety of a young adult as shown in her awkwardly brash interactions with older kids and her friendship with another young neighborhood boy. The army games and relationship with the latter show she’s still connected to the young girl she’s slowly moving away from whilst the conversation with older kids represent the pull of her growing up.

Her coming of age feels a bit more hostile than others. It’s partly due to the bleak environment La Botera is set within – the constantly overcast skies and heavily clothed characters emphasize the cold unwelcoming environment. But the hostility is mostly due to the strained relationship she has with the dad she lives with alone. Unlike the gentler fathers in other father-daughter coming of age movies like Eighth Grade and Alba, Tati’s father offers little love and sympathy. He punishes and chastises her in almost every scene they share. Even when he has an opportunity to share a moment with her, such as when they’re watching football on TV, he gets annoyed as she apparently shouldn’t enjoy a ‘man’s game’. Maybe he’s been affected by the neighborhood they live in or his own experiences, or maybe his machismo just hides his fatherly insecurities. Either way, he contributes to the hostility of his daughter’s coming of age.

If you’re into coming of age stories set within a pretty bleak environment, La Botera is worth a watch. The close-up shots that follow Tati give it an edge that make it feel more real and personal than others.


Head to our LALIFF 2021 Hub for more reviews from the 20th edition of LALIFF.

Trenque Lauquen

If you’re ready to sit down for a few hours to indulge yourself in some cosy, trivial Argentine mysteries, meet the latest film from El Pampero Cine, Trenque Lauquen.

Trenque Lauquen comes from Laura Citarella, one of the members of El Pampero Cine, a group of filmmakers which also includes Mariano Llinas (La Flor, Extraordinary Stories), Agustin Mendilaharzu, and Alejo Moguilansky. Each of the members of the collective usually pop up in the credits of each other films under different roles, making each of the collective’s films feel like a team effort. They each also use the same actors, so if you’ve seen another of their films before, you’re likely to see a familiar face in this one.

Trenque Lauquen, like it’s El Pampero Cine predecessors, isn’t a light commitment. It’s just over 4 hours long, split roughly equally into two sections which are both tied together by Laura’s character. The entire film takes place in Trenque Lauquen, a city on the far west border of Buenos Aires province near La Pampa. It looks like a pretty unremarkable city, with nothing to really distinguish it from anywhere else in Argentina. However the blandness is all part of the film’s construct. As with the majority of films from the El Pampero Cine collective, Trenque Lauquen uses the mundane as a foundation for it’s engrossing mysteries.

Put best by Magu Fernandez Richeri for La Lista:

El Pampero’s films are, at their core, fairly simple. There aren’t any extraordinary premises, but they also work as tiny odysseys. Characters embark on fantastical adventures where the mundane is re-signified as something strange, new, and magical. The strangeness with which Pampero approaches the world is inherently transformational. Any and all minutiae represents a good excuse for them to tell a story as if we as the audience were kids listening in rapt attention, trying to keep us from seeing the world in its drab normality, allowing us to perceive things differently and hatch crazy schemes.

Trenque Lauquen, like La Flor and Extraordinary Stories, feels like indulgent storytelling. It’s as if the filmmakers of El Pampero Cine have been challenging each other to come up with new quirky mysteries to keep audiences interested for longer periods of time. They haven’t seemed to hit their limits yet as each of their last few films have kept audiences interested just to see where the mysteries lead us. Each of their films is like following a maze or river cruise full of pleasant surprises. Plus the pacing and characters are conducive to our immersion in the mystery; they’re both always patient and never rushed. They create the relaxed environment to let the mystery lead us along. Serious things happen in these films, but because of the tone, it never feels real-world serious. This is why these films are indulgent storytelling – they’re there to simply entertain and nothing more, and they do this better than anyone else in the industry.


Head to our AFI Fest 2022 Hub for more reviews from AFI Fest 2022.

The Dog Who Wouldn't Be Quiet

Dogs are everywhere. Before the pandemic, ownership seemed to be rising. Everyone either had a dog or knew someone who did, whether it was a neighbor or a colleague who brought their dog into work. Now, with everyone stuck at home, they’ve become even more popular as companions for those living alone and friends for kids. They’re also still the small talk champions (perhaps even more so than babies). Nothing else can get a stranger talking to you better. It’s within this context that The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet kicks off.

Sebastian’s troubles start when he bumps into a neighbor in the courtyard outside his house, who starts complaining about the noises his dog makes. In what’s quite a funny scene, in an awkward way, Sebastian stands there, under his umbrella in the rain, nodding along to his neighbors monologue. Other neighbors turn up and add to his neighbors complaints and crowding the small courtyard. Right after that scene, Sebastian has a similarly awkward chat with his boss at work. They also don’t want his dog around, and like his neighbors, awkwardly avoid telling him directly.

Solving his troubles at home and work in one, Sebastian moves to the country for a happy life with his dog. But, things don’t end there, as the chain of events started by his less than silent dog keeps progressing. Amongst other things, we’re taken through Sebastian’s different jobs, a clandestine cooperative, and a sudden pandemic. It’s an oddball journey. However, despite how strange the events are to us, Sebastian goes along with them as if they’re completely normal. It’s like he’s resigned himself to the path his dog has placed him on.

His stoic face throughout all these surprises is what makes this film so quietly funny. In a way his role isn’t too dissimilar from the great silent movie comics like Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin. Whilst he doesn’t perform any stunts like them, the comedy of the film is created around his non-reaction to the things happening around him. Like Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin, Sebastian is the comedic fall guy for the movie. His misfortune and his acceptance of it exists for everyone to laugh at.

So, if you’re looking for another quietly funny Argentinian satire along the lines of Martin Rejtman (see The Magic Gloves) check out The Day the Dog Wouldn’t be Quiet.