Abstract
There is a moment, about a half-hour into Marcelo Piñeyro's Plata Quemada (2000), of really quite pure tragic dimensions. I use the word "tragic" advisedly, not in its overused sense of "pathetic" or "unfortunate," nor to capture the inevitable violence and death that stalks all human existence. Rather, I use it in the sense of classical Greek drama to capture that instance in which the individual defies, if not the unforgiving gods, the inflexible rules that govern the harsh realities of social life.
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