The Association of Independent Audiovisual Media Producers (APIMA, for its acronym in Spanish) published a report on Carlos Pirovano's first year as head of the National Institute of Cinema and Audiovisual Arts (INCAA). The figures are no surprise: 0 films approved in one year.

Pirovano is an economist who has nothing to do with film or the audiovisual industry. He was appointed head of the INCAA after nearly four months of the institute being headless. He is known to be close to Patricia Bullrich and Federico Sturzenegger (Minister of Security and Minister of Deregulation and State Transformation, respectively). But I don't want to dwell on what's wrong with the cultural scene in Argentina.

I want to be optimistic and talk about a very meaningful place to me and many porteños: the Cine Club Núcleo, a historical film society. In 2023, I was very ill, and in 2024, during my recovery, the Cine Club became an important place. Every week, my husband and I, along with hundreds of strangers, sit together to watch a movie selected by Alejandro Sammaritano and his team. A community quickly forms. We greet others, chat about movies and what we did earlier in the day, each taking their usual seat, not officially assigned, but established by habit. And when Alejandro Sammaritano appears with a microphone in hand, we all fall silent, and the show begins.

As defined by the critic, archivist, and cinema historian Fernando Martín Peña, a film society has four elements: the films, a curated program, a program that analyzes the film, and the most important element, the members. This is what distinguishes a film society from other screening spaces like museums or universities, which might have cycles and projection spaces but are not film societies. It is the membership fee that economically sustains the club, and the regular screenings that help build a community around the cinema.

The film societies had existed since the 1920s. The first ones emerged in France and are almost parallel to the beginning of cinema because they offer a different exhibition experience, not related to the screening of premieres, but with a non-commercial logic. It involves understanding cinema as an art form that can be appreciated beyond premieres and cinema schedules, and understanding the importance of film preservation to form an archive. We must consider that 100 years ago, films in film format were discarded after their exhibition, and if you didn't catch them when they were in theaters, there were very few chances to see them again.

Cine Club Núcleo is an emblem of Buenos Aires culture since its creation in 1952. It was founded by Salvador Sammaritano, Jorge Farenga, Luis Isaac Soriano, and Ventura Pereyro. The first film they screened was The Covered Wagon by James Cruze from 1923, with a silent 16 mm projector. Although it wasn't the first Argentine film society, Núcleo introduced filmmakers such as Bergman to the country.

In the 1960s, Argentina was a hub of cinephilia. Auteur films that were not intended for a mass audience filled theaters at all times. This can be partly explained by the massive entry of the population into free public higher education. In this context, Núcleo began publishing its own magazine called Tiempo de cine, featuring some of the most prominent critics of the time, such as Homero Alsina Thevenet.

This golden era ended with the military coup of 1966 led by Juan Carlos Onganía. Self-proclaimed as the "Argentine Revolution," the military dictatorship imposed strong authoritarian control over society. In 1968, Law 18019 was enacted, creating the Film Rating Entity (ENTE), replacing the National Honorary Film Rating Council. The Council would cut scenes from films but not ban them. In contrast, the ENTE, which was dissolved in 1984 once democracy was reinstated, is estimated to have banned nearly 727 films.

It might be lengthy, but I can't help but quote article 2 of the ENTE creation law:

Article 2 — The following scenes or films are prohibited:

a) Justification of adultery and, in general, anything that undermines marriage and family;

b) Justification of abortion, prostitution, and sexual perversions;

c) Presentation of lewd scenes or those that offend morality and good customs;

d) Glorification of crime;

e) Those that deny the duty to defend the homeland and the right of its authorities to demand it;

f) Those that compromise national security, affect relations with friendly countries, or harm the interests of fundamental state institutions.

In those years, Núcleo organized trips to nearby Montevideo, so film enthusiasts could see movies that didn't reach the country or were shown censored. Thus, members were able to see, for example, A Clockwork Orange, a film that practically covers all the clauses of Article 2 of the prohibition law. Those who traveled watched up to five films in one day. These tours lasted until 1973, when the dictatorship in Uruguay was established.

But even more interesting was a practice that occurred in those years. Núcleo screened banned films that could be accessed through alternative means, such as bringing them back in personal luggage after attending an international festival, and because Sammaritano and his partner, Tito Vena, were in contact ("friends" in a way) with the film censor, Miguel Paulino Tato. Members attended screenings without knowing what film they would see; when the screening was announced, it was referred to as "an important premiere" (that was the code), and a week later, in cineclub publications, they talked about these films, noting that "they will not be shown in Buenos Aires" when they had already been screened.

Tato was a former film critic who publicly stated that in his first year in office, he wanted to reach 200 films censored to satisfy priests and military members. He was in charge of the ENTE between 1974 and 1980. When questioned about these "exceptions," Tato argued that he was acting according to the law, because article 13 stated that screenings couldn't be in public theaters, but film societies were exempt, and because their members were "specialists," not the general public seeking nudity and violence in films.

In 1983, the military dictatorship ended, along with all the censorship and bans on films. These were years known as "the opening" (el destape), but the Argentine society took quite a while to shake off the shame and prudery imposed by military morality. For example, when The Last Temptation of Christ was released in 1988, the opposition from the Catholic Church was fierce; the film didn't have a commercial release and was shown in places like the Ricardo Rojas Cultural Center at the University of Buenos Aires.

After the return to democracy, Núcleo, in addition to its classic retrospective screenings of filmmakers, offered premieres for its members before they reached commercial theaters. Additionally, Sammaritano began showing films on public television; millennials born in the late '80s remember him for that series. Salvador became the director of the National School of Film Experimentation and Production (ENERC) and even worked as an actor in some films. He passed away in 2008, and Núcleo is now led by his son Alejandro.

I said I didn't want to focus on the negative, but nearing the end, I can't stick to that. In 2025, Núcleo began its 73rd season, and they were forced to reduce to a single weekly screening and only 500 members because the venue doubled its rental fee. A minimum monthly pension, received by the majority of retired people, was $312 in May 2025, and today's Núcleo membership fee is $13. Some members are unable to secure a spot and hope someone doesn't show up to enter; others can't afford it anymore. It's sad because some people have been attending the film society for decades, and it's an important space for socialization for older adults. The truth is, film enthusiasts weren't stopped by any dictatorship, so Milei's cultural battle won't defeat us.