The film centers on prosecutor Julio Strasser, portrayed by Argentine star Ricardo Darin, and his idealistic young assistant Luis Moreno Locampo, played by Peter Lanzani. They join forces to prosecute leaders of Argentina’s military dictatorship, which ruled from 1976 to 1983. Facing constant threats, grave risks, and the daunting weight of bringing justice, they initially hesitate to begin the case.
With the backing of a cadre of passionate young legal minds, Strasser and Locampo mount a challenge to a system that had once operated under a repressive regime, and which still had remnants in positions of power. The protagonists must assemble the most compelling evidence to indict the architects of mass repression and to confront the traumatized victims as the nation watches, demanding accountability for the crimes committed during those dark years.
Argentina 1985 is widely regarded as a definitive courtroom drama, often compared to landmark trials that have shaped the genre. Critics point to it as a contemporary heir to the spirit of famous judicial narratives, recalling historic trials that explored the responsibility of leaders and institutions for grave human rights abuses. The film exists alongside these canonical works as a modern reflection on collective memory and legal pursuit of justice in the wake of dictatorship.
In thematic terms, the story resonates like a modern David versus Goliath parable, pitting a determined, morally centered group against a faceless, entrenched system reluctant to relinquish the past. Director Santiago Mitre tackles a painful chapter in his country’s history with a measured approach that avoids melodrama. He leans into rigorous sobriety, believing that the most powerful storytelling emerges from clarity and restraint rather than sentimentality. Behind this approach lies a conviction that nothing should romanticize the real trials people endured, which is why the film interlaces tense courtroom sequences with documentary footage of actual testimonies from victims of mass kidnapping, sexual violence, and torture, offering an unflinching record of those crimes for the audience to absorb and judge.
While Mitre achieves a bold synthesis of documentary realism and cinematic narrative, some viewers may find the balance imperfect. The film begins by slow-building the world of its heroes, then accelerates toward the first pivotal acts. As the plot advances, the weight of backstory and behind-the-scenes legal maneuvering can feel prolonged, and isolated scenes, including moments focusing on family life or procedural details, may come across as uneven in tempo. This occasionally leaves the central tension undercut by pacing and occasional lapses in momentum, creating a sense that the narrative could have tense moments more consistently integrated into the forward drive of the story.
Nevertheless, Argentina 1985 remains a landmark entry in contemporary cinema, emblematic of a nation reckoning with its past on the world stage. It earned recognition within the global awards circuit and solidified its place on the international festival circuit, underscoring its impact beyond regional reception. The film’s resonance continues to be felt at major film awards and by audiences seeking a thoughtful, rigorous examination of justice, memory, and the rule of law. In the broader cultural conversation, it stands as a potent reminder that accountability can emerge from the courtroom as much as from public memory, and that truth-telling is a vital step in healing a society that once allowed cruelty to flourish.