‘Magic Farm’ review: Chloe Sevigny, Alex Wolff star in uneasy Argentina-set satire

Dir/scr: Amalia Ulman. Argentina/US. 2024. 93mins 

A clueless American documentary crew travels to Argentina, where they fail to get their story but perhaps gain something more profound, in this ragged but affecting fish-out-of-water comedy. El Planeta writer-director Amalia Ulman’s second feature tackles exploitation and cultural tourism, the film’s genial surface belying a quiet anger underneath. The cast, led by Chloe Sevigny and Alex Wolff, ably skewer the American media’s ignorance of the wider world, but Ulman’s compassionate film holds out hope that different peoples can still make connections, even if they don’t speak the same language. 

The film’s genial surface belies a quiet anger underneath

After premiering at Sundance, Magic Farm heads to Berlin’s Panorama section. Mubi will be handling the film for US, the UK and other territories, although this decidedly oddball picture seems to be strictly an arthouse proposition. Mixed reviews may further limit commercial prospects.

The film introduces us to Creative Lab, a hip New York media company that travels the world chronicling bizarre local trends. Led by cynical host Edna (Sevigny), they make their way to the small Argentine town of San Cristobal where, according to her insecure producer Jeff (Wolff), a singer known as Super Carlitos has become a viral sensation by performing in a rabbit suit. But once they arrive, they realise that San Cristobal is a common name for cities across Latin America, and they’ve gone to the wrong country. With no subject for their film, they now must invent a story so they have something to bring back to their bosses.

Ulman, who hails from Argentina and plays the company’s long-suffering assistant (and lone Spanish-speaker) Elena, has made a pointed commentary about spoiled young American media professionals that’s hidden in a sometimes shambling hangout comedy. Whereas El Planeta, which also premiered at Sundance, was a comparably focused comedy about an eccentric daughter and mother — starring Ulman and her own mother Ale — Magic Farm consists of several subplots all tied back to the documentary team’s feeble attempts to manufacture a trend piece. 

In short order, the spineless, overly sensitive Jeff becomes attracted to a local beauty, Manchi (Camila del Campo), while another crew member, the hunky Justin (Joe Apollonio) develops a close bond with a gentle, nameless older man (Guillermo Jacubowicz) who oversees the dingy motel where the crew is staying. As for Elena, she just found out she’s pregnant, which she is keeping from Edna — along with the fact that she is secretly talking to Edna’s romantic and creative partner Dave (Simon Rex), who has returned to New York, fearful that Creative Lab may be close to bankruptcy. Inevitably, some storylines are more compelling than others. (The subplot involving Justin and the motel worker is easily the most tender and memorable.)

If Magic Farm seems to be yet another takedown of ugly Americans traipsing through foreign lands, the writer-director humanises her protagonists enough that their failings are funnier as a result. Wolff nails Jeff’s blithe stupidity, revealing the depth of his shallowness in such a way that we understand why he believes himself to be a thoughtful, conscientious person. His rapport with del Campo is endearing, but his co-star springs surprises that suggest Manchi is hardly bamboozled by this seemingly sophisticated New Yorker.

Magic Farm incorporates the occasional scene shot with a whimsical fish-eyed lens, which emphasises the sense of displacement these Americans feel in Argentina, where the language barrier and ravenous mosquitoes start to take their toll. Composer Burke Batelle, better known as Chicken, utilises quirky electronic sounds that further add to the disorientation – although these playful noises also suggest that, while Ulman has a serious intention, she also possesses a stubborn affection for these US journalists. 

Still, that deceptively frivolous tone cannot obscure the upsetting things we hear in passing about San Cristobal, which is battling poverty, riots, dangerous airborne chemicals and a fascist government. Tellingly, these facts are frequently presented in the background while the Americans focus their energies on a fabricated trend piece. As Magic Farm makes plain, there are actually many more important stories to tell about Argentina — not to mention the rest of the world — if only the mainstream US media cared. Ulman slyly dresses up these concerns in a light comedy, but she knows it’s no laughing matter.