Laura Bierbrauer

Ten-year-old Axel lives with his mother and three sisters in a flat in Buenos Aires. They’d be a perfectly normal family if only the mother weren't imprisoned in one of the rooms.

On New Year’s Eve, in the streets of Berlin, Alex delivers coke driving her taxi. Three other car journeys capture three earlier moments in a life marked by personal tragedy. From season to season, an interior journey into states of being.

In 1930s Buenos Aires, exiled writer Michael attempts to continue his work, though the overwhelming city make his hands tremble. Decades later, he reenters the life of Argentine artist Mari through a book. She engages with his fantasies and begins to follow him, until one day he hears her whistling.

What happens if someone very similar to you pretends to be you and people believe them? And what happens if they do things that make you look bad? This is what happens to Martín Piroyansky.

Aldo is 55 years old and lives with Pablo, his older brother. From their home, they conduct a religious practice invented by their father and whose congregation meets mainly online. Aldo is tired of being a preacher, but doesn’t know how to say it.

Ramira returns to the Misiones rainforest from where she ran away after the birth of her son. Her efforts to rebuild the bond with her mother and her son, who does not recognize her as his mother, are complicated. Her family questions her abandonment of the child and fights with her over the deceased father's inheritance. The child struggles between two mothers, while Ramira seeks to find a sense of reinsertion in the middle of a labyrinth of hybrid languages and customs.