Santiago Mitre’s Argentina, 1985 revisits one of the most pivotal chapters in Latin American history: the trial that brought members of Argentina’s last military dictatorship to justice. Yet what makes the film remarkable is not only its historical scope, but its emotional intelligence. Through restrained performances and a grounded narrative, it examines how a nation begins to articulate its trauma — not through slogans or revenge, but through testimony, law, and moral conviction.

Ricardo Darín gives one of his most nuanced performances as prosecutor Julio Strassera, a man weary from years within a corrupted system who must find the courage to confront it. Peter Lanzani, as his young assistant Luis Moreno Ocampo, brings the energy and doubt of a generation that inherits both the pain and the responsibility of rebuilding trust. Their dynamic becomes the film’s core — a delicate balance between cynicism and hope, exhaustion and renewal.

Mitre directs with sobriety and rhythm. There is tension in every corridor, every whisper of fear, every typewritten page that could condemn a man. But he also finds room for humor and intimacy, allowing the political to coexist with the deeply human. In the reenactment of the trial, the testimonies of victims are treated with profound respect: the camera does not sensationalize, it listens.

The result is a film that transcends courtroom drama. Argentina, 1985 is about the fragility of democracy and the courage it takes to uphold it when the temptation of forgetting looms large. It reflects on the collective memory of a country still healing, and by extension, on all societies struggling to confront their own pasts.

Mitre turns history into an act of empathy — showing that justice, imperfect and incomplete as it may be, can still be an act of collective dignity.