To celebrate the theatrical release of Amalia Ulman’s zappy satire, Magic Farm (2025), we invited the artist and filmmaker to curate a selection of films from the MUBI library. Recalling connected places, people, and moods, Ulman remembers these films by what are, for her, their most striking moments.

What Do We See When We Look at the Sky? (Alexandre Koberidze, 2021)
“This film feels like a dream, and there are only a few films that feel that way to me. There’s this feeling of tranquility. It’s such a beautiful, almost pure, film; it feels like a fairytale. I’ve always wanted to go to Georgia, so I was happy to see it depicted on film. One of the details I remember most vividly is a scene with handwriting in the Georgian language. I’d never seen that before, and I was like, ‘Wow, I could watch this forever!’”

White Material (Claire Denis, 2009)
“I haven’t seen White Material in a long time, but the memory that sticks with me involves the son who is mentally unwell. He’s one of the white characters, and he gets stopped in the middle of nowhere by this group of Black kids. Even though they are much younger, six or seven years old, they have power over him. I remember one shot clearly: the little hand of one of the Black kids on the son’s head. The scene depicts somebody that grew up in an environment that has obviously affected his relationship to race. It’s a powerful image.”

Lux Æterna (Gaspar Noé, 2019)
“I love films about making films. Obviously the styling of the characters is amazing, and I have a very vivid memory of all the colors, and all the screaming and running around… And the gaslighting! Actresses trying to figure out what’s going on and people lying to them… I watched Lux Æterna on an airplane, which made the split-screen effect even more abstract. It’s funny to remember because I suffered through so much of the experience with bad headphones, like when they go ckkckkck. But that combination just added to how intense the film is, and I was enjoying trying to understand what was going on.”

Sex and Lucía (Julio Medem, 2001)
“I don’t even know if I like Sex and Lucía! This film is just representative of my childhood in Spain because all films of that era looked and felt this way. To me, it feels like Spain: Weird psychodramas that all, for some reason, have a bluish hue. There’s dark stuff going on all the time and weird, often unnecessary, sex scenes that are very long. Even the poster was all over the place in Spain, or on TV all the time. I’m so used to seeing that image.”

Sibyl (Justine Triet, 2019)
“I can’t remember why I watched Sibyl, because I knew nothing about the film or Justine Triet’s work at the time. But I remember that I was absolutely in love with it. I thought it was so hilarious, and the acting is so on point: I love Adèle Exarchopoulos and Virginie Efira. It’s such a fun female film, which is why I remember sharing it with female friends, and just saying, ‘You have to see this.’”

Wendy and Lucy (Kelly Reichardt, 2008)
“I know if I ever see Wendy and Lucy again, I’ll just cry my eyes out. I have a distinct memory because I watched it at home in Gijón. My mom and I were just staring at my cat like, ‘I hope this never happens to you! We love you so much!’ The cat was not understanding what the hell was going on while we were crying and gathered around her. I’ve had this experience with other films that are about animals, but this was one time that we were all together.”

Breaking the Waves (Lars von Trier, 1996)
“When I was a teenager, I used to go to a video store run by this cinephile guy who basically rented out his own collection. I was sort of obsessed with the concept of Dogme 95 because teenagers love manifestos, and then I continued watching films by Lars von Trier. I remember renting out Breaking the Waves, and being devastated for days afterwards. It kind of broke my brain for a while… My young brain! So I do have that vivid memory of feeling very affected by it, but I was also very attracted to it.”

Dogville (Lars von Trier, 2003)
“I remember enjoying Dogville precisely because of von Trier’s break from the distinct aesthetic of Dogme 95. As an artist I relate to not doing the same thing all the time. When you’re successful at one thing, you’re expected to continue. Then it’s challenging, but exciting, to do something different. I hadn’t seen Dogville for a long time, but I saw it recently in a theater and it was so good. And there’s Chloë Sevigny’s character in Dogville: That was a big inspiration for Magic Farm.”

Silvia Prieto (Martín Rejtman, 1999)
“When I made El Planeta, a lot of people in Argentina told me that it reminded them of Martín Rejtman’s films, which I hadn’t seen at the time. I have a huge crush on Vicentico, and I really enjoy this era of Vicentico as an actor. I also love this era of Argentina, but it’s sad and tragic because that Argentina doesn’t exist anymore. It was a brief time in history. I do remember that one of the few times I visited with my parents was in the ’90s, so Silvia Prieto makes me nostalgic and sort of captures that time for me.”

Me and You and Everyone We Know (Miranda July, 2005)
“It’s a perfect first film; it has so many iconic moments. The two brothers who are catfishing on the computer… It’s just so wonderful. Of course the film in general is a great film, but just because of that moment, this film has so much value. Again: It’s a moment in time, one of the early internet, which doesn’t exist anymore. It’s great.”

Personal Shopper (Olivier Assayas, 2016)
“I love when Olivier Assayas has this sexy mood, and I love many other films by him too that have this sort of aesthetic. Personal Shopper was the first film I saw with text messages that worked. Usually I hate seeing these interfaces… I hate it so much. But this was the first time I saw texts used in a way that didn’t bother me. I was like, ‘Oh my god, there’s a way to do it that is not cringe.’ So I think that’s what I remember most, being very into how that was resolved.”