“Gentle and captivating, enshrouded in mystery and driven more by its atmosphere than its storyline.”

Deep in rural Argentina sits a village mostly isolated from the outside world – there is enough movement to give off the illusion that it is an active community, but once night falls, and both darkness and silence descend on its inhabitants, it is difficult not to immediately notice the bellowing silences that the residents either embrace or avoid. This sets the foundation for The World Upside Down (El mundo al revés), a fascinating collaboration between directors Agostina Di Luciano and Leon Schwitter, filmmakers from two entirely different backgrounds who come together to tell a mystifying story that blurs the boundaries between documentary and narrative feature. A gentle but layered sociological study built around the simple act of observing the surrounding world and the people who reside within it, the film is a patient and intuitive examination of the human condition, drawing us into this village that seems to be suspended in time, shaped by slow rhythms that exist outside of a recognizable reality. A story told in two overlapping parts, each focusing on a different pair of protagonists (natives of this village, who are essentially playing versions of themselves) who find themselves questioning the nature of reality while also quietly accepting it, the film is a wonderfully intriguing combination of magical realism (drawn from a long history of mysticism and folklore) and steady, persuasive discourse on contemporary issues, which gives the film a slight sense of the intentionally uncanny and a grounded intimacy that the directors willingly exploit in pursuit of some deeper truths lurking beneath the surface.

The best way to view The World Upside Down is as two distinct episodic vignettes that stand independently at first, but begin to intertwine as the film progresses. The first, and perhaps most prominent, of the stories is based around Omar, a village elder who asserts a quiet authority over his fellow residents, continuously demonstrating his deep connection to the land and the people who used to call it home. The film frequently fixates on the customs and traditions of the region, with sweeping shots of the arid landscape being juxtaposed with stunning depictions of ancestral art, carried down from generations and now exemplified in the relationship between Omar and his young grandson. Their dynamic is the anchor onto which the film is tethered, especially since they represent two distinct generations who view the cultural nuances that define their identity and surroundings very differently, a fascinating depiction of how culture tends to tilt in new directions, rather than change entirely. There is a lot of discussion around the esoteric and unknown throughout this film, and the ongoing motif of the mysterious light that presents itself to Omar in the night sky is a visual manifestation of the film’s fascination with the unknown; it is presented as a peculiar spectacle, something that exists between the realms of the logical and the supernatural, from which the film draws a lot of its ideas. When contrasted with the more recognizable themes, such as the intergenerational bond between Omar and his grandson as they go on what appears to be a fascinating metaphysical journey, the wisdom of one intermingling with the childlike curiosity of the other, it reveals a dynamic and complex balance that anchors their story in surprisingly deep and compelling ways.

The other half of The World Upside Down focuses on Rosana and Lily, a pair of middle-aged women who work as housekeepers and are preparing for the arrival of a wealthy family from Buenos Aires who are in search of a taste of the exotic that these women seem to take for granted. This is the more humorous side of the film, since the discussions between the two women are wonderfully funny and filled with charm and candor, enough to even make us wish for a film based exclusively on their daily routine, especially since their storyline takes a turn when it is revealed that the family is delayed for reasons not made explicitly clear throughout the film. However, even these seemingly trivial discussions contain complex ideas – these are individuals who are driven by a strict routine, which they carry out with care and sincerity, embracing the quiet tranquility that comes with their work. The directors recognize that there is potential to explore the dynamic between these two women, as well as the people that they are expecting – at one point, do we draw the line between repeated delays and an outright absence? In these moments, Di Luciano and Schwitter once again pay attention to space – this time focusing on cavernous rooms that should be bursting with life, but remain eerily suspended somewhere between the past and the present. Both episodic strands of the film employ a dreamlike, stream of consciousness approach, which not only allows the seamless blending of fiction and reality but also makes The World Upside Down a deeply sensory experience, an eerie but provocative exploration of culture and the process of unearthing complex ideas that simultaneously instill a sense of wonder and curiosity in the viewer.

Time moves at an unhurried pace for the protagonists in The World Upside Down, and the directors make use of the art of stillness as a means to create an unforgettable canvas on which they explore both the socio-economic and cultural nuances of Argentina, as well as broader subjects to which all of us can relate in some way. Ultimately, this is a film about a group of people who exist as individuals, but are all bound by their search for meaning in uncertain times, where everything somehow seems both unstable and impenetrable, questioning the carefully constructed social order to the point where even the depictions of decay – whether caused by the passage of time or the harsh climate – are astoundingly beautiful. A pair of parallel narratives that stand on their own but also share certain thematic similarities, where the strange becomes familiar and vice versa, and the sense of enchantment guides the film forward. Consisting of long, striking shots that aim to offer a sense of quiet, pensive observation, as well as a unique tone that is impossible to pin down to a particular category or genre, The World Upside Down is an attempt to understand the human condition through embracing the pulse of a small village and its eccentric inhabitants. The blurring of documentary and narrative features contributes to the oscillation between reality and construction, an integral part of decoding the many messages that guide this film, built from myths and observations, which the directors are all too happy to explore in vivid detail. Gentle and captivating, enshrouded in mystery and driven more by its atmosphere than its storyline, The World Upside Down requires some patience, but it proves to be a rewarding experience, especially when it positions itself as a silently engaging portrait of rural Argentina and the many intersecting cultural details – some ancient, others more modern – that guide and define the lives of these fascinating people and their uniquely beautiful traditions.