The American tourist and Sebastian Silva’s depiction of “the other”.

    With the growing trend of movies and TV shows satirizing the exuberant lives of the obliviously wealthy, it is no wonder we’ve also seen a surge in the examination of the Tourism industry. The most obvious example is the HBO show “The White Lotus” (2021-), following the vacation of rich Americans and their individual relationships with the staff of the fictional hotel chain. “Triangle of Sadness” (2022) could also fit into this category, taking place largely in an exclusive cruise full of excentric caricatures of the upper class. However, when examining the subject of tourism in cinema, I can’t help but bring up a personal favourite: “Crystal Fairy and the Magical Cactus” (2013). The film, directed by Sebastian Silva and starring awkward it-boy Michael Cera, is not only a hilarious exploration of the stereotypical image of the American tourist but also an originally nuanced portrayal of the Latino perspective.

    In a cultural landscape where everybody is eager to classify directors and their work, there seems to be little mutual understanding of what being a Latino filmmaker entails. A lot of this confusion may be attributed to the unclearness of what the term even refers to, as the concept of Latin America as a political and geographical entity exists primarily in comparison to the US. When examining the Latin American community on its own, these 21 countries are not really bound by race, language or religion. In fact, education in Latin America does not consider itself the same continent, with most schools teaching North, Central and South America as different regions. Because of this it has been harder to characterize what Latino identity is, instead of what it isn’t. This may be why Chilean writer and director Sebastian Silva seems removed from conversations around Latino filmmakers, stating in an interview in 2013 that he views himself as an outsider in Chile, having moved at the age of 18 and writing a large part of his work in English. This exclusion may be due to Silva’s work not being widely popular, with most of his releases receiving limited distribution, or because it does not present themes that the are immediately associated with “Latino Filmmaking”.

    The concept of “otherness” has plagued Latino narratives in cinema, whether it is the fetishization of exotic and passionate lovers or, more recently, immigration stories, where the ever-looming threat of deportation reminds the audience that the characters are not welcomed in their environment. Silva’s  “Crystal Fairy and the Magical Cactus”, and his most recent release “Rotting in the Sun”(2023), don’t fit into these standards at first glance. Still, the films both rely on this same idea of “the other” to drive their central conflicts while bathing themselves in an ever-present detachment that turns the trope so often used against Latinos on its head.

    “Crystal Fairy and the Magical Cactus” is a road trip movie following Jamie, who, while visiting Chile, accidentally invites an eccentric girl, Crystal Fairy, to join him and his Chilean friends to look for a hallucinating cactus. Throughout the journey, Crystal Fairy gets on Jamie’s nerves as he relentlessly cheats and fights anything and anyone standing in the way of him finding this magical cactus and achieving spiritual enlightenment. Silva’s newest feature, “Rotting in the Sun”, features self-inserts from both writers, Sebastian Silva and Jordan Fisherman. While on a trip to Mexico City, Jordan searches for Sebastian in hopes of working together and hooking up with him. The ket-fueled journey takes a twist when, halfway through the film, Sebastian dies, leaving his Mexican housekeeper, Vero, to deal with Jordan’s aggressive demands and suspicions. Though widely different, the films share a signature anxiety-driven comedic edge that stems from the leads incessant desire to get what they want.

    Both of Silva’s films centre on American characters inhabiting an environment where it is obvious they do not belong, despite how oblivious they may be to this fact. Aside from the language barrier, there’s a clear sense of transactionality that characterizes Jamie and Jordan. Their unshakeable determination to use their surroundings to further their individual goals makes them unable to truly achieve the sense of acceptance and belonging they so clearly crave. Of course, this dynamic between outsiders and their Latin environment is the main source of cringe comedy that characterizes both features, but it also serves as a critique of the often exploitative nature of the American individualism complex. The capitalistic need to gain access to the best experiences, to produce the best content, and to distinguish oneself from the rest only leads to further alienation, whether one realizes it or not.

     Perhaps one of the most telling moments of this disconnect comes from the scene in “Crystal Fairy and the Magical Cactus”, where the travellers are looking for the titular character in a park. Struggling to find her in the middle of the crowd, Jamie tells his Chilean friends to “look for a white girl,” leaving them even more confused than before as they also think of themselves as white. Although it works as a throwaway line, as soon after Crystal Fairy gets into a discussion with some beggars, it encompasses the constant feeling of disconnection at the heart of both films. Like many people living in Latin America, the Latino characters in Silva’s stories are not aware of their inherent otherness until a foreigner explicitly states it. It is this imposing of a political identity, a label, to characters that do not exist in those terms. One could argue that the Chilean characters in “Crystal Fairy and the Magical Cactus” are underdeveloped and lack their own individual identity as opposed to Jamie or Crystal. However, I believe it’s the simplicity of the three brothers that makes them instantly sympathetic in comparison to their American counterparts. Silva is inviting an American audience to not only reflect on its own abrasiveness and ignorance but to put themselves in the shoes of Latinos, to view themselves as the “other.” In Silva’s work, the viewer joins the Latino characters in observing the tasks and adventures of the American through a mostly passive perspective. There’s a lingering sense of unimportance coming from the attitudes of these characters. At the end of the day, the Americans will go back home. They’ll post their trip on social media, brag at parties about their transcendental experiences, and tell people about how much they loved taking the bus in South America; meanwhile, the people they left behind will continue living their lives with little to no change.  

    The dichotomy between the tourists and the locals in Silva’s work results from the former's failure to experience Latin America as anything other than extraordinary. As we, the audience, laugh at the American's constant attempts to achieve self-actualization in faraway lands, we grow accustomed to the environment's charmingly dull atmosphere. It is the privilege to be regular that Silva brings to its Latino characters, to be viewed as the norm. Maybe it is the filmmaker’s same refusal to represent a community that allows for an authentic Latin perspective, gaining the power to view the other rather than being observed ourselves.