Mar

January 2014 on the Argentine coast. Martín and his girlfriend Eli are on holiday in Villa Gesell, a beach resort south of Buenos Aires. The sun is scorching. They read horoscopes, slurp maté, play guitar, and cool off in the ocean and the resort pool. The conversations on the beach and at dinner revolve around life and how it progresses. Nights are punctuated by dogs barking on the street and the piercing sirens of automobile alarms. This 30-something urban couple’s relationship seems troubled and on the verge of falling apart. The sudden appearance of Martín’s mother does not ease the tension, but just intensifies the distance between the two of them. Reality invades this fictional story when several dozen tourists are struck by lightning on the beach during a storm and three of them die.
Dominga Sotomayor’s Mar impressively dissects the peculiarities of everyday life and directs our attention to the nuances of what is perceived as trivial. Based on the intimate portrait of a relationship and family configuration, it creates a subtle picture of a society in the elusive grip of unconsciousness.