A self-identified “genre fluid” film, Underground Orange captures a singular kind of honesty — one that’s both deeply intimate and wildly universal. In director and star Michael Taylor Jackson’s debut feature, a wayward Californian (played by the director, also a native of California) becomes part of a polyamorous relationship with a group of eccentric young actors while backpacking around Argentina. As the performers plot to kidnap the US Ambassador to Argentina, they also broaden the Yankee’s self-perception.

For Jackson’s character, speaking another language is acting — something alien. But, for the actors, performance is all about being present and honest. Underground Orange explores these sorts of dichotomies as they appear in politics, identity, and queerness. By blending tones, mashing up genre beats, and infusing the everyday with imagination, the film balances thoughtfulness and humor. Rich, distinct, and with an unforgettable rooftop dance number that arrives midway through the film, Underground Orange wears its many ideas like splotches of paint on a palette, encouraging both the Yankee and the audience to plunge into the hue that entices them most.