We all dream of fishing in Argentina, of discovering those incredible landscapes, those rivers where the fish are plentiful and never seem to measure less than 45cm. There are those who can afford to stay in lodges at $1,000 a day, and those who travel from place to place with guides — but all are captivated by the beauty of the scenery, the ruggedness of the countryside, and that peculiar feeling of being in a region you somehow recognize, yet set in another era.
But what do we really know about the lives of the locals — the gauchos driving their herds, the troperos who live among the sheep? What do we truly understand of what strikes us as picturesque the moment we step off the plane?
Here is an incredible film about the lives of Argentine shepherds — those who live in close contact with nature and must work in harmony with it as they lead their sheep on transhumance. A film by Nicolas Detry that must be seen on the big screen. Your film of the weekend.
This is what Amaranta Zermeño, journalist at Espaces Latinos wrote:
Filmed in the heart of cold Patagonia, Troperos immerses us in the mysteries of South American nature. Summer 2014. We find ourselves in a lonely valley in southern Patagonia — an isolated, inhospitable place. Nicolás Detry, his brother Ezequiel, and their colleague Silvestre Seré embark on the adventure of documenting a profession on the verge of extinction: the herd keepers of the South American plains, known in Argentina as gauchos. Through the narration of the troperos across the course of a full year, we observe the work specific to each season, including the harsh Patagonian winter. We discover incredible anecdotes from rural life, alongside reflections on their most intimate emotions, in a land where man and animal share a close bond forged through work and survival.
“The truth is, I didn’t choose to make this documentary. This documentary chose me.”
The adventure begins with Ezequiel, the director’s brother. After an experience at Tucu Tucu, Ezequiel is insistent about filming in this indescribable place — unique for its breathtaking landscapes and untouched nature. A year later, Ezequiel and Silvestre Seré live through the experience of guiding sheep through a snowstorm, during which Silvestre takes photographs that would go on to be published in one of Argentina’s most prestigious magazines, alongside the story of the troperos’ life in the Patagonian countryside. Made on virtually no budget, the film began production in 2014 and took four years to complete — four years to capture the different seasons of the year and reproduce the annual cycle of the gaucho and his sheep.
Troperos is a window into another world. A world that, according to Nicolás, is difficult to access — not only because of its geography, but also because of the way of life the gauchos lead. The etymology of the word is said to trace back to the Quechua huacchu, meaning “orphan, solitary soul” — and not without reason. Even amid the hardships of production, Nicolás says the most difficult challenge was earning the trust of the gauchos who, in their humility and dedication to their work, are not naturally sociable people. To win that trust, the film crew had to live alongside them — learning to shear sheep, chop wood, and even cook in their way. Through shared moments of labor, they earned the right to film their world without intruding upon it.
“We wanted to pay tribute to the Patagonian gauchos, to show how they carry out their work just as they did in the last century.”
Other projects are already underway: Nicolás Detry intends to keep telling Patagonian stories. What matters most to him is always maintaining a “regional perspective, rooted in respect and understanding.” For him, the work of filmmaking is a way to rediscover the people and customs of his own country. For us, it is an opportunity to add a new dimension to our understanding of South American culture.
Amaranta Zermeño
The film is subtitled in Spanish but you might want the english subs: Square at the bottom right — Subtitles on / Cog wheel: auto-translate → English