The 25 Best Argentine Films of the 21st Century

To think about Argentine cinema in the 21st century is to accept, from the outset, that it cannot be reduced to a homogeneous movement or a single style. Rather, it is a constellation of films, filmmakers, and aesthetic gestures that emerged in the wake of the collapse of the industrial model and a profound transformation in production, circulation, and modes of looking. What began to take shape in the late 1990s—and came into full force in the 2000s—was a diversity of forms and sensibilities that, despite ongoing tensions, obstacles, and crises, continue to coexist.

Films such as La Ciénaga, La Libertad, and Bolivia marked the continuation of a process that had started in the latter half of the previous decade, not by articulating a shared program but by inaugurating new ways of filming. These works moved away from classical storytelling, conventional dramatic emphasis, and established representations of social reality. Sound, dead time, bodies, spaces, and zones of narrative opacity became central elements of what came to be known as the New Argentine Cinema. During those years, national cinema gradually forged an identity less anchored in classical genres and more invested in experience, observation, and formal risk.

Over the past twenty-five years, this opening has given rise to markedly different trajectories. The formal precision of Martel; the urban realism of Trapero and Caetano; the autobiographical and political explorations of Carri; Rejtman’s minimalist comedy; Llinás’s expansive storytelling; the sensitive introspection of Murga and Mumenthaler; Perrone’s digital radicalism; Moguillansky’s playful intersection of fiction and reflection; Comedi’s work with memory and archival material; and the contemporary forms of political cinema developed by Naishtat and Mitre all contribute to a necessarily fragmentary map—one that nonetheless reveals the breadth of perspectives and aesthetic criteria at play.

Far from being exhausted after an initial generation, Argentine cinema in the 21st century has demonstrated a remarkable capacity for renewal. New filmmakers—particularly women—have expanded the range of subjects, territories, and bodies represented, incorporating gender perspectives, regional viewpoints, hybrid narratives, and an increasingly free relationship with formats and duration. Films such as Trenque Lauquen, Los delincuentes, and Algo viejo, algo nuevo, algo prestado confirm that experimentation and dialogue with the past are part of the same tradition in motion.

This selection does not seek to establish a definitive canon or to close off a process that, despite well-known political and institutional difficulties, remains ongoing. Rather, it is an invitation to revisit a recent history marked by diversity, the persistence of authorial voices, and a striking creative vitality—even under adverse economic conditions. Modestly, the list also serves as a rebuttal to the claim made by Argentina’s current INCAA director, who has argued that “Argentine cinema lost its way” after 2000.

Finally, it should be noted that the list is chronological and includes only one film per director—a decision that inevitably led to the exclusion of major works by many of them. Landmark films such as Zama, La Flor, Los muertos, and several others are absent for this reason alone. Their omission speaks not to a lack of importance, but to the sheer variety, richness, and—above all—the quality of Argentine cinema in the 21st century.

–La Ciénaga, Lucrecia Martel (2001)
A foundational film of the New Argentine Cinema. Martel’s treatment of sound, bodies, and social decay introduced a new sensibility—more sensory than narrative—that would influence an entire generation.

–La Libertad, Lisandro Alonso (2001)
A radical gesture of minimalism and observation that redefined the relationship between cinema and time. Alonso proposes a cinema of elemental actions, rooted in modernist traditions and transposed to the contemporary Argentine pampas.

–Bolivia, Israel Adrián Caetano (2001)
A stark, frontal portrait of social exclusion and urban xenophobia. Its austere mise-en-scène and unsentimental gaze make it one of the most forceful examples of Argentine social realism.

–El Bonaerense, Pablo Trapero (2002)
A police thriller that doubles as a radiography of power, corruption, and institutional violence. Trapero blends classical narrative drive with a sharp critique of law enforcement structures.

–Los rubios, Albertina Carri (2003)
A key work in Argentine autobiographical and political cinema. By dismantling traditional documentary forms, Carri rethinks memory, identity, and the legacy of the dictatorship through uncertainty and fragmentation.

–Los guantes mágicos, Martín Rejtman (2003)
A dry, minimalist comedy that consolidates Rejtman’s style: laconic dialogue, offbeat characters, and a distinctly contemporary sense of absurd humor. Highly influential within Argentine independent cinema.

–Ana y los otros, Celina Murga (2003)
An intimate portrait of youth and return—both geographic and emotional. Murga crafts a sensitive, observational cinema attentive to small gestures and the lived experience of time.

–Parapalos, Ana Poliak (2004)
One of the most singular looks at labor, the body, and urban marginality. Poliak develops a harsh yet poetic cinema shaped by a deeply personal ethical stance.

–El aura, Fabián Bielinsky (2005)
A modern classic of Argentine genre cinema. Bielinsky fuses thriller conventions with psychological darkness and narrative precision, proving that industrial filmmaking can also be sophisticated and author-driven.

–Historias extraordinarias, Mariano Llinás (2008)
A monumental film that expanded the limits of narrative and duration. A celebration of storytelling, voice-over, and adventure as engines of contemporary Argentine cinema.

–El estudiante, Santiago Mitre (2010)
A political portrait of student activism and power dynamics. Its analytical gaze and restrained style anticipate a form of political cinema that favors structure and tension over rhetoric.

–Viola, Matías Piñeiro (2012)
A central work in Piñeiro’s ongoing engagement with William Shakespeare and affective relationships. A cinema of words, gestures, and movement that reimagines romantic comedy through abstraction.

–P3nd3jo5, Raúl Perrone (2013)
A radical exploration of digital forms and new narrative possibilities. Perrone captures adolescence and desire with a formal freedom that defies any industrial norm.

–La vendedora de fósforos, Alejo Moguillansky (2017)
A playful metacinematic game intertwining fiction, opera, and reflections on artistic labor. One of the most intelligent and joyful expressions of recent Argentine cinema.

–Alanis, Anahí Berneri (2017)
A raw yet empathetic portrait of a woman living on the margins. Berneri avoids miserabilism, constructing a political gaze rooted in everyday life and corporeal experience.

–El silencio es un cuerpo que cae, Agustina Comedi (2017)
An intimate documentary weaving together family memory, sexuality, and politics. Comedi crafts a rigorous and emotionally resonant exploration of hidden histories.

–Rojo, Benjamín Naishtat (2018)
An unsettling parable about violence and civilian complicity in the years leading up to the dictatorship. Its austere style and oppressive atmosphere make it one of the decade’s most powerful political films.

–Muere, monstruo, muere!, Alejandro Fadel (2019)
A hybrid of horror, western, and political cinema. Fadel uses genre to interrogate evil, violence, and monstrosity within the Argentine landscape.

–El perro que no calla, Ana Katz (2021)
A delicate, melancholic film about time, love, and survival. Katz blends intimacy with minimalist science fiction, achieving a singular emotional tone.

–Trenque Lauquen, Laura Citarella (2022)
An expansive, mysterious work that crosses genres, narratives, and durations. One of the most ambitious Argentine films of recent years, conceived as a narrative experience.

–Los delincuentes, Rodrigo Moreno (2023)
An existential reworking of the heist film, shaped by time, desire, and reflections on labor. Moreno proposes a free, thoughtful, and deeply contemporary cinema.

–Algo viejo, algo nuevo, algo prestado, Hernán Rosselli (2024)
A family portrait that doubles as a social and economic radiography. Rosselli merges documentary and fiction to examine money, power, and emotional bonds with surgical precision.

–El jockey, Luis Ortega (2024)
An excessive, physical film driven by bodies, desire, and violence. Ortega deepens his cinema of impulses and characters perpetually on the brink.

–Las corrientes, Milagros Mumenthaler (2025)
An intimate exploration of relationships, grief, and the passage of time. Mumenthaler reaffirms a cinema attentive to silence and emotional states.

–El príncipe de Nanawa, Clarisa Navas (2025)
A vital and political portrait of borderland youth. Navas combines observation, empathy, and social awareness in one of the most invigorating voices in contemporary regional cinema.

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