'Dance of the Souls': A Wandering Spirit Guides Viewers Through Oaxaca's Muerteadas

Ramón Llaven's "Dance of the Souls" screens at Mexico's Morelia Film Festival, with stops at Mexico City's DocsMX and the Ji.hlava Documentary Film Festival. The Mexican filmmaker returns to his native Oaxaca, in southern Mexico, to observe a singular event held in the communities of the Etla Valley: the muerteada (a Oaxacan Day of the Dead tradition of masked dancing that can last up to 18 hours).

Produced by Fata Morgana and Eudiamonía Films, in co-production with Estudios Churubusco Azteca and Lost Time Media, the film uses a mystical narrative device. A wandering soul returns on the Day of the Dead to visit the places it used to inhabit and the people it once loved, accompanying locals as they prepare for one of Oaxaca's most important celebrations — an event that brings together masked revelers in elaborate costumes who dance in remembrance of lost loved ones while also celebrating life.

"My intention was to create a documentary about the muerteadas — a Oaxacan tradition in which we dance for over 12 hours, accompanied by a brass band and wearing costumes adorned with bells and mirrors," Llaven tells Variety. "I also wanted to weave in my childhood memories of Doña Julia, a spiritual healer whose healing sessions I had the chance to witness. This served as the starting point for the film."

The spirit's perspective, Llaven adds, "gives rise to a question: If you could return, which places would you visit?"

Why distance changed the film

Llaven made the documentary after spending nearly 15 years away from Oaxaca. "This time apart allowed me to return and observe my community from a fresh perspective," he says. "It was important to me to tell the story from within, and the figure of the returning spirit — traversing the spaces it once occupied — provided the perfect lens for this." The people and landscapes in the film, he notes, are close to him and belong to the region.

The film also recounts the untimely deaths of several young men from the town, including Ricardo, a friend of Llaven's whose loss deeply affected the director. The project, he explains, "allowed me to learn about the region's funeral rituals and their connection to the natural world."

What delayed the shoot?

The pandemic proved a major obstacle when shooting began. Safety precautions and participants' apprehension delayed filming of the muerteada itself: the crew started in 2021 but could only film the celebration in 2023 and 2024, once large-scale public gatherings resumed in the community. Even with his local roots, gaining the trust of the community and the film's participants remained the hardest part of production, Llaven recalls.

When the shoot finally happened, the director aimed to convey "the physical experience of dancing for hours during the muerteada, until reaching a state of ecstasy. The carnival allows us to adopt the perspective of the spirit, moving among the dancers and becoming part of the community."

The tradition's visual signature: costumes adorned with bells and mirrors that can weigh up to 20 kilograms, worn during dances that last as long as 18 hours in some villages. "This celebration allows us to welcome death with joy," Llaven says.

Where does the muerteada come from?

Its origins remain uncertain, Llaven explains. Some accounts trace the tradition to two possible Oaxacan regions: Cañada or Mixteca. In some Etla Valley communities, the muerteada carries more weight than both the new year and the patron saint's feast day.

"Unlike other traditions that also involve welcoming the spirits of the departed, the muerteada also serves as a reflection of life itself," Llaven says. "It represents the end of one cycle and the beginning of another. It is a way to celebrate the fact that we are still alive, which enables us to carry on."

With festival runs at Morelia, DocsMX and Ji.hlava, the film now carries that argument — death welcomed with joy — to international documentary audiences.