This Sunday, the people of Argentina will vote for a new president amid rampant inflation, corruption, and crime. A new Argentine film, “The Delinquents,” touches on the country’s economic issues, and its plot hinges on a crime, yet its main concern is with the idea of freedom.

The movie asks whether we can be vibrantly free in modern society, lashed as we are to technology and various social and ethical responsibilities. It further posits whether true liberty can ever be achieved in the prisons of our minds.

We begin at Buenos Aires, as protagonist Morán heads to his job at a bank. The pace could be called leisurely as he goes through his morning routine, with the director giving us views of the city’s Beaux-Arts architecture and street life. One spots a mask or two among the people walking around, but otherwise the year or era in which the film is taking place is vague. Further confounding efforts at identifying what epoch we’re in is that the bank Morán works in looks like it’s from the 1970s and the outfits of some of his fellow employees are decidedly retro.  

As the movie continues and no contextual backstories or politics are raised, it’s clear that director Rodrigo Moreno intends to separate the film from any specific period. We’re in the realm of modern malaise, though most scenes are not dismal; the soundtrack fizzes with accordion and strings, and the sharply composed imagery pops with color. 

The movie at this early stage and throughout its three-hour runtime defies expectations at almost every turn. What first looks like a prison — hinting at a later development — is actually the bank’s barred vault. What initially seems to be a methodical heist movie soon turns into something much looser and more intangible. 

Yet back to the bank and the heist: Morán steals hundreds of thousands of dollars — and a couple hundred thousand pesos — as he no longer wishes to work. He also steals the same amount for his co-worker, Román, and basically bullies him into keeping the cash safe while he goes to jail for the crime, estimating that he will get out of prison for good behavior in three and a half years. Uneased, Román reluctantly takes the duffel bag of dollars and hides it in a high cupboard in his apartment.

What follows is Morán taking a trek in the Cordoba hills northwest of Buenos Aires before turning himself in. The movie then pivots to a workplace drama, as an internal investigation is conducted at the bank, and all employees, including Román, are suspected of helping Morán. There are some darkly droll moments during this section, such as when the bank’s employees watch security camera footage of the robbery, and one of them starts having what appears to be a stroke, but instead could be a performative gesture of shock.

The filmmakers also cut to Morán at one point and show how he’s being extorted by an aging prison tough in exchange for his safety while inside. For some reason, despite his detailed planning, Morán didn’t bank on the roughness of prison life.

The second part, as stated in text on screen, begins when Román goes to the hills of Cordoba to hide the money under a rock. He completes the task, then gets sidetracked by three locals, two women and a man, as they relax by a river. This is the point at which the film becomes a sort of idyll, with long passages of reveling in nature and touching moments of play and affection. We later find out, in flashbacks, how Morán also met the same locals. To say more is to spoil what could be perceived as a plot twist but comes off as more of an existential inquiry.

As Román and Morán, respectively, Esteban Bigliardi and Daniel Eliás ably play the yin and yang of masculinity and complicity. With his telling lips and lowkey demeanor, Mr. Bigliardi, in particular, gives the movie a touch of the tragic.

Margarita Molfino plays Norma, one of the women both men meet on their individual sojourns to the countryside, and she resembles a more angular Penelope Cruz. One wishes the director had given her more to do and say, such as when Morán complains of the exhausting repetitions of city living and yet Norma doesn’t challenge him with how “country living” has its own never-ending patterns.

Those looking for a standard heist thriller will be disappointed in how the movie’s second part ambles along. There’s not even a declared third part to complete a three-act structure. What we do get, though, are lovely interludes where poetry is recited, gorgeous landscapes, a disquisition on wild prairies as opposed to native gardening, and more.

It’s almost as if “The Delinquents” critiques itself as it idles toward its elliptical ending, letting go of its robbery storyline to focus on the transcendent, the ephemeral, and the philosophical. Through its themes and formal elements, the film captures the irresistible urge to be irresponsible and sets it free.