Among the titles in competition at the Malaga Festival today we focus on four very different proposals in tone and geography: the tense Chilean historical thriller Hangar Rojo, endorsed by its appearance at the Berlinale; the emotional revision of a classic of Spanish cinema in Mi Querida Señorita; the intimate drama about grief and reconciliation in After Kim; and the Havana tragicomedy Neurotica Anónima, a declaration of love for Cuban cinema.

RED HANGAR (Juan Pablo Sallato, 2026)

Chile, September 11, 1973. Captain Jorge Silva, former head of Air Force Intelligence, receives the order to set up a detention and torture center in the midst of a military coup, which drags him into a devastating moral dilemma between obedience to his superiors and the dictates of his conscience.

Juan Pablo Sallato proposes a sober exercise in historical reconstruction with the military coup in Chile in the background. A forceful black and white delves into the adventures of this captain who struggles between due obedience and the conscience of good actions. The film thus turns the hallways of the Aviation Academy into a space where silence outweighs screams and where there are no heroes, only men trapped in the machinery of power.

ANONYMOUS NEUROTICS (Jorge Perugorría, 2026)

Iluminada, an usher at the Cuba cinema in Havana who has been using movies as a refuge from her alcoholic husband and a society in crisis for thirty years, faces the loss of her only sanctuary when the theater threatens to close. With the help of projectionist Denis, she must reconcile with her past to imagine a future and save that piece of life that keeps her standing.

The actor Jorge Perugorría stands behind the cameras to pay tribute to cinema in general and the Cuban people who went to the theaters in particular. All very well-intentioned if it weren't for a formal finish closer to the end-of-year film of a film school student than that of a veteran of Cuban cinema. A sweet and cheesy tone that aims to provide lightness and ends up being irresponsible, by showing a suffering but happy and politically accommodating people, does not help either.

AFTER KIM (Ángeles González Sinde, 2026)

Juan and Gloria, divorced and estranged for twenty years, travel from Buenos Aires to Spain upon receiving news of the death of their daughter Kim, with whom they had lost all contact. There they discover that Kim held more than one secret, forcing them to undertake a search together that reopens old wounds and buried affections.

The Malaga Festival has a section called The Time Capsule where films from the last century with some historical or anthropological importance are shown that it never hurts to visit. After Kim by Ángeles González-Sinde could perfectly come out of one of those capsules with the only drawback that it lacks cinematographic, historical or anthropological interest. An attempt at a dramatic thriller with paternal-maternal-filial conflicts that competes with the latest works by Gracia Querejeta in recovering a cinema from when Pilar Miró was in charge.

MY DEAR MISS (Fernando González Molina, 2026)

Adela, the lonely only child of a conservative family in Pamplona, ​​lives ignoring her own intersexuality until a friendship with a priest, a reunion with a childhood friend and the emergence of a woman trigger a journey of self-discovery that will take her from Pamplona to Madrid.

The production of Los Javis saves the day in comparison with its prequel, and that is saying something because we are talking about one of the Masterpieces of Spanish cinema. As in the other reinterpretation that we have seen at the Malaga Festival, subtleties are no longer necessary because we are in 2026 and Alana S. Portero's script can call a spade a spade. The main problem is that it is a Netflix movie “directed” by Fernando González Molina with everything that entails of audiovisual cleanliness lacking personality and risk.

Source: https://cineenserio.com/festival-de-malaga-2026-dia-2/



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