“A joyful comedy about slightly serious matters.”

How would you react if you woke up handcuffed to a complete stranger in the middle of the wilderness, especially when your unexpected new companion is also suffering from intense amnesia and can’t even recall his own name or where he comes from? For most, this would be a situation so bewildering it borders on far-fetched, which is exactly what we discover at the outset of Hidden People. It is the latest film from Miha Hočevar, who has established a promising career at the helm of this kind of straightforward cultural comedy that is not particularly inventive, but rather proves to be reliable. The film follows Guti, a rebellious hippie who is constantly running afoul of every kind of authority (you name it, he’s defied them), who wakes up one morning handcuffed to a mysterious stranger on a riverbank. How they got into this position is unknown to them, as is the origin of his new friend. Eventually, the memories begin to trickle through. It is revealed that the man is Sig, who travelled from Iceland with the intended destination of Slovenia. The growing friendship between these two men forms the foundation for Hidden People, a charming comedy which may be small in scope, but has a tenderness that draws the viewer in, offering a genuinely compelling experience, even at its most predictable and conventional.  

Hidden People is a film built from two common narrative tropes, namely the odd-couple scenario and the culture-clash comedy. The first is the most obvious – two complete strangers with entirely different worldviews find themselves in uncomfortably close proximity, and in the process of trying to work through a crisis, they discover that they are unexpectedly compatible. The idea of mysteriously becoming connected to someone with whom you form an instant rapport once it is revealed that you are kindred spirits is a relatively common concept, and one that Hočevar uses to make some intriguing observations. The second core narrative tenet is that of cultures colliding – Guti is a free-wheeling bohemian, even if he is tired of dealing with the burdens of modern life that prevent him from being completely free, while Sig is a man who wants to enjoy life, but finds it difficult to detach himself from his responsibilities. The two perspectives come into contact, influencing one another in unexpected ways. Sig learns to loosen up and take advantage of every moment in the present rather than worrying about the future, while Guti comes to realize that he doesn’t always need to be defying the social order, since a lot of those guardrails are put in place for his protection, rather than to restrict his lifestyle. The precarious situation the protagonists find themselves in forms the basis for a very funny story with more depth than we would expect, offering a charming discussion on community and culture that may be obvious, but certainly has its heart in the right place

The greatest strength of Hidden People is that it never tries to manufacture suspense in areas where other films might rely on it. From the start, we can tell that this film isn’t going to be about determining whether Guti and Sig will become friends and resolve the problems that stand in their way. This allows for the emotional journey that anchors the film to become more prominent over the elements that veer towards the predictable. It should be noted that nearly every narrative beat can be easily anticipated, so there is not much genuine tension – but the director shows he is comfortable sacrificing originality in favor of warmth and strong chemistry between the characters (credit must go to Blaž Šef and Ólafur Darri Ólafsson for leading this film wonderfully, selling every emotional moment). It builds on a very simple concept: two strangers from different countries find themselves literally bound together, and in the process develop a strong friendship despite their cultural differences. The film can sometimes be slightly forceful in how it delivers an obvious allegory for global coexistence, but its sincerity more than compensates for any vaguely derivative storytelling techniques, making familiar ideas feel welcome rather than cynical or manipulative. This interweaves well with another strong element of the film, namely the balancing of optimism with gentle melancholy, using the characters’ search for identity and a sense of belonging to give its lighter comedic moments a strong emotional undercurrent, especially when the story becomes primarily about the importance of community.

Hidden People is not a film that will challenge the audience with any radical or innovative ideas, as it deliberately chooses to be lovable and comforting. This creative choice aids in making its more somber themes (immigration and the search for a place to call home) accessible without trying to reinvent the genre or say anything particularly revolutionary. It does call into question whether a film can be sustained on compassion and charm alone, and while every viewer’s mileage may vary regarding the effectiveness of this subject and its execution, we cannot help but be thoroughly enchanted by the film. It is certainly conventional but has enough heart and soul embedded in it to make up for the more predictable elements, embracing the cliches rather than attempting to disguise them. The idea of a film built from a dynamic of “hippies and hairy men” (as one of the characters remarks) captures the playful cultural tug-of-war between these characters, while beneath the layers of irreverence lies a thoughtful examination of contemporary social and cultural structures and how they can sometimes create a sense of alienation from life as a whole. Steeped in conversations around coexistence and community, and driven by a sincerity that is quite moving, Hidden People proves to be a joyful comedy about slightly serious matters that leaves a lasting impression through sincerity more than originality, and indicates that its heart is squarely in the right place.