In Amalia Ulman’s new film, Magic Farm, a Vice-like crack team of documentary filmmakers—incarnated by the likes of Chloë Sevigny, Alex Wolff, and Ulman herself—lands in rural Argentina to shoot a feature on a local musician, only to realize they’re in entirely the wrong country.
It’s Wolff’s ineptitude that landed them there, the prototypical New York “nice guy” quickly breaking down into a self-pitying spiral. Sevigny wanders the town contemplating how her once-promising career could have possibly brought her here, confiding in a horse she finds tied to a gate: "We're fucked!" The cameraman is distracted by an erotic tête-à-tête with the middle-aged hotel front-desk man, and their intern (played by Ulman) seems content to let the fuck-up run its course.
In the midst of our protagonists’ frenzied reaction to the news, little thought is dedicated to the locale they’ve come to in their search for viral content: a community suffering the consequences of harmful crop spraying. So absorbed is the film crew in their city-slicker woes that they fail to notice the turmoil around them—children are born with chemically induced physical defects, agricultural planes zoom overhead sending locals running for cover, and coughing fits are shrugged off like spring allergies.
This trick of backgrounding the foreground of a narrative is one Ulman, an Argentinian video and performance artist, previously employed in her 2021 directorial debut, El Planeta, where a mother-daughter duo scam their way to the top in Spain. (The duo is played by Ulman, who grew up in Spain, and her real-life mother.) That film premiered at the Sundance Film Festival, and earlier this week, Magic Farm followed in its footsteps. Ahead of its wide release later this year, the artist spoke to CULTURED about her approach to skewering our collective sense of moral detachment.
CULTURED: First off, where did this idea come from?
Amalia Ulman: The kernel of the film was originally the issues with soil plantations. I learned about this many years ago because some of my family was affected. I started doing more research and saw how prevalent it is in the Global South, particularly in Argentina, Brazil, and so on. That was in the back of my mind, even as I was writing El Planeta. It seemed like an important topic for me, but it still hadn’t really taken shape. Then, during 2020, it materialized. I started thinking about the decline of Vice news and that kind of media. A lot of my friends were involved in that world, and I’ve been surrounded by that way of thinking and those aesthetics all my life because my parents are Gen-X hipsters.
CULTURED: Were you thinking on set about the parallel between going to Argentina to shoot a movie, itself about going to Argentina to film a movie?
Ulman: Bringing in elements of my own life [her character was also born in Argentina and raised in Spain before moving to New York] makes it more accessible and realistic. I like to poke fun at things I know very well or see from the outside. In a way, I enjoy making fun of myself. The crew and everyone involved in the story have elements of people I know and love.
CULTURED: It definitely felt like these are people I see in New York and know very well. Did you do a lot of different takes with different dialogue, or did you keep it pretty close to a script you had written?
Ulman: It was pretty close to the script, to be honest. I like allowing actors to experiment a little bit among themselves, and it clearly depends on the actor. For instance, Alex Wolff definitely enjoyed having a bit more freedom and experimenting with every take. But I think it also helps that the casting was very good. The chemistry between Alex and Camila [del Campo] was palpable and amazing. So I like letting those sparks fly when they’re there, without being too strict about the script if things are going well.
CULTURED: What was the process like for finding Alex and Chloë and seeing them step into these characters?
Ulman: Chloë’s character was written for her. It was based on certain roles she’s played, like her character in Neon Demon—that sort of “mean girl” persona. I thought she would be perfect for it, but also because of the meta element I wanted to bring into the film. Chloë is an icon of that skater culture from the ’90s, and I thought it was important to stay truthful to that instead of creating a character from scratch. Having her in that role felt essential to me, and she was amazing.
I saw Simon Rex [who plays Chloë's character's partner] in Red Rocket, and I thought he was perfect. He has an amazing sense of humor. Joe Apollonio [the cameraman character] is a close friend of mine, and we basically made the movie together—he came with me to location scouts and was involved very early on. As for Alex, I was so happy to cast him because the role he plays is loosely based on someone who looks a lot like him. It was funny to see that play out.
All the actors really understood this subculture. For Simon, I sent him a 2005 documentary about American Apparel’s journey, which follows around the people involved. That was a main reference for his character—the sleazy, obnoxious guy who doesn’t even realize he’s doing something wrong. I thought preserving that sort of innocence was important for the role. The casting, both in general and for Argentina, was brilliant.
CULTURED: Were there locals cast in Argentina, like in the film, or was it a more formal process?
Ulman: I cast Mateo [Vaquer] because I found him on TikTok and thought he was amazing. My grandma is also in the film, which I think is an interesting casting choice—she plays a religious extremist. We also did a lot of local casting in the surrounding areas of the village where we were shooting.
CULTURED: There was so much B-roll of the surrounding area. Was that something you shot on a specific day, or were you collecting it throughout the production?
Ulman: We were collecting it throughout the production, and that felt very important to me. One of the things I like to do is sculpt day-to-day life without interfering too much with the crew or the production process. For example, when I shot El Planeta, I included a lot of naturalistic street scenes that I loved because nobody knew they were being filmed. It felt very natural and true to the city.
I wanted to do the same with Argentina—to really capture what it felt like to be there. Shooting those environmental scenes and the animal footage was essential. There are so many animals—dogs, for example—and we even put cameras on some of them.
CULTURED: There are a lot of still moments or moments with interesting lenses. Were you visualizing those in the editing room, or did you have a clear idea in pre-production?
Ulman: We visualized it beforehand. I’m inspired by a lot of the beautiful things happening online and on TikTok, especially different editing techniques. We even used CapCut for some of the editing and transitions. The animal camera footage was inspired by a YouTube account I love, where someone in China attaches a camera to their cat, and there are hours of footage from that.
Filmmaking is still a young art, even though the rules often feel rigid. I wanted to bring some magic into it, as much as I was allowed. Many of the techniques we see online aren’t entirely new—they’ve been used in cinema—but they’ve become part of our visual language again. Cinema often feels a few years behind, so I wanted to spice it up by integrating these elements, especially since the characters’ lives in the film are largely online.
CULTURED: It’s interesting that TikTok is an inspiration because it’s uncommon in film. Do you frequently look to platforms like TikTok for inspiration?
Ulman: I look everywhere. I’m not a snob, and I find inspiration in all kinds of places. The Internet today can feel like a dumpster, but there are beautiful things if you know where to look. I’m especially drawn to moments when people are unaware they’re making art—that’s when something magical happens. I believe art has a way of appearing unexpectedly, almost like it’s connected to something divine. I also enjoy walking around the street, paying attention to my surroundings. My fine arts background taught me to look at everything, not just cinema, for inspiration.
CULTURED: What do you hope audiences take away from the film?
Ulman: I hope it reminds people that we’re all in this together, even when it feels like we’re not. The film shows how superficial this hipster culture is when compared to the larger, looming problems that affect everyone. At some point, we’ll all have to face those deeper issues. That’s the message of the film: There’s something more significant happening beneath the surface, and it’s something that connects us all.
