When Rosa is expected to hand her boss the suntan lotion on a deer hunt, this feels like a sign. Don Reynaldo’s ranch is about to celebrate its farm anniversary, but this passionate hunter’s image is built on a lie. And so, here in the countryside, where men are men, employees are grateful subjects and women diligently and docilely hold it all together, cracks begin to appear in the social life of this microcosm. Ordered around day in and day out, unnoticed by those in her class-conscious surroundings, the menial Rosa gradually becomes an agent of change. While Don Reynaldo’s extended family contorts itself in a bid to save the old order, men begin to arrive at the farm in pickup trucks. Their appearance at the feast and a threat are enough to make the ageing patriarch fear for his life and his family – and force him to act. All that passes is observed by the animals who, either as trophies on the wall or as livestock out to pasture, seem to sense the end of an old hegemony. With a keen sense of how to deploy omens that herald change, Alejandra Márquez Abella portrays an epochal shift in rural Mexico – as seen by characters who are usually relegated to passive supporting roles.

在寻找他的妹妹，一个叛变的罪犯寻求答案在一个肮脏的酒店，他遇到了一个阴险的客人和浪漫的神秘的女服务员。

爱她的枪是关于一个年轻的女人谁出逃暴力在纽约的悠闲环境在得克萨斯州中部的一个浪漫的悲剧。有一次，她落户到奥斯汀，她陷入局部枪支文化和她的一些同样的忧虑回来困扰着她。 (有一天绿豆自杀从5楼跳下来，流了很多血，变成了红豆；一直流脓，又变成了黄豆；伤口结了疤，最后成了黑豆)