‘Magic Farm’ Review: Acerbic Comedy About Culture Clash Follows Clueless Americans in Small-town Argentina

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In Amalia Ulman’s second film, “Magic Farm”, Cumbia music serves as a consistent backdrop. This Argentine-born Spanish director’s work is known for its daring form and biting satire. The story revolves around a group of obnoxious, privileged American outsiders who find themselves stranded in a secluded Argentine countryside town. They are employed by a media company similar to Vice, focusing on gathering unusual stories worldwide for sensationalistic video content. Their current objective is Super Carlitos, a quirky singer famous for wearing bunny ears and living in the town of San Cristobal. Interestingly, many places named San Cristobal can be found throughout Latin America, which Jeff, the unhelpful producer (played by Alex Wolff from “Hereditary”), seemingly fails to realize.

In her latest work, similar to the wry humor she displayed in her first film “El Planeta”, where she starred alongside her real-life mother as a struggling mother-daughter duo, Lena Dunham plays Elena, the camera operator and translator. Her character carries an undeniable self-referential tone, given that Elena reveals she was born in Argentina but raised in Spain, which explains her unique accent. The consistently disgruntled host, Edna (portrayed by Chloë Sevigny), the gay sound technician, Justin (Joe Apollonio), who has a crush on the strong and friendly inn receptionist (Guillermo Jacubowicz); and for a period of the journey, Edna’s partner and production superior, Dave (Simon Rex in a guest role), make up the eccentric group of foreign travelers.

Discovering they had gone to the incorrect San Cristobal, Jeff instead concocts a fictitious tale involving a cult, with assistance from locals such as Popa (Valeria Lois) and her daughter Manchi (Camila del Campo). Their exchanges with the townsfolk, unaware of the visitors’ true intentions, create some of the funniest understated scenes; for instance, Popa sharing stories about her romance with a French film star is quite amusing. However, when the group, including Elena, are left alone to grapple with their personal issues up north, “Magic Farm” appears briefly less engaging, even for a work that relies on discomfort for its biting humor.

The movie ‘Magic Farm’, visually, offers a chaotic yet captivating experience. When not held by cinematographer Carlos Rigo Bellver, the camera is sometimes attached to animals like dogs or horses, providing a raw, ground-level perspective that can be disorienting. Moreover, the film starts and ends with shots possibly taken using a 360-degree camera, giving an illusion of image distortion, creating a surreal entry and exit for its viewers, as if signaling the twisted journey about to unfold. The transitions between scenes, designed by Ulman, Bellver, and editor Arturo Sosa, are both smooth and intentionally noticeable.

In “Magic Farm,” similar to Sebastian Silva’s bitingly cross-cultural work, the atmosphere and Ulman’s artistic purpose seem to echo each other significantly. Particularly in films like “Crystal Fairy” and more recently “Rotting in the Sun,” Silva explores the actions of oblivious, occasionally irritating foreigners in Latin America. The intriguing contrast arises when Ulman gathers a group of recognized actors and positions them in an unfamiliar setting. One of the unique visuals Ulman has crafted might not have come to be otherwise, such as Sevigny strolling along a dirt road in this small Argentine town while a dance-inducing electronic cumbia music blares in the background.

Ulman’s character is distinctly connected to the nation, fluent in the language, and well-versed in the subtleties of the culture. This is evident not only in the character but also in the filmmaker’s skillful use of music and careful incorporation of details like the witty street signs with amusing slogans. It seems that someone who has a bond with Latin America, however loose, can accurately portray the ignorance, arrogance, and foolishness exhibited by certain American populations towards countries further south. Immersed in their self-absorbed world, this group fails to grasp the gravity of the health crisis caused by harmful pesticides in San Cristobal. Ulman’s sharp writing effectively communicates this crucial information to the audience.

At some point, Jeff, who barely speaks Spanish, criticizes Manchi’s English pronunciation. This isn’t a typical or obvious cultural conflict, but Argentine characters consistently outsmart their counterparts. There are recurring, subtle hints of foreigners’ incompetence, stemming from their complacency and entitlement, which the locals’ ingenuity underscores. To post something online, Manchi must climb a tree to get a signal, toilets in this town often require flushing with a bucket, and a convenience store owner doesn’t pass up the opportunity to take Justin’s money.

In the narrative, I, Elena, remain somewhat of an enigma, neither openly declaring my loyalty to one side nor fully embodying either role. Am I more connected to the people I left behind in my childhood homeland or the colleagues I spend a significant amount of time with in New York? The alternative version of “Magic Farm” could have provided a clearer picture of my position and feelings towards the morality of my job. However, Ulman chooses not to highlight my role as a conscious outsider, instead allowing the storyline to unfold with me mostly acting as an unwitting participant. On the other hand, the movie itself clearly reveals where Ulman, the director, stands on the issue.

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2025-02-03 09:16