‘My Mexican Shivah” is a surprisingly universal story, even if its title implies otherwise. John Sayles serves as an executive producer, but the film is unlike his Spanish-language “Men With Guns” or any mainstream Latin-American films in recent memory. In fact, it’s somewhat difficult to place — unmistakably about the Jewish Diaspora but also conjuring elements from the particular brand of familial hysteria found in so many Latin-American comedies. Director Alejandro Springall’s sophomore feature provides loads of insight on its ensemble of characters, who are not exactly pleasant company but are unmistakably human.

The unexpected death of patriarch Moishe (Sergio Kleiner) unites his family, friends, old flames, and business associates for a shivah, which turns into seven days of kvetching. The dearly departed was apparently no saint — he didn’t even own a prayer shawl. A chevreman (Lenny Zundel) is on hand to ensure observance of Halacha, though he takes time out to peddle kosher products to the mourners. Meanwhile, two Yiddish-speaking angels, invisible to all but the moviegoers, dutifully take notes on the proceedings to determine whether Moishe’s spirit will follow angels of light or angels of darkness after the shivah.

Moishe’s two adult children couldn’t be more different: Esther (Raquel Pankowsky) holds a grudge against her father for having kept a shiksa mistress, and Ricardo (David Ostrosky) is a womanizing lothario just like his old man. The grandchildren are worlds apart, as well: Galia (Sharon Zundel) attends university in Manhattan and is allegedly dating a black man, while former pothead Nicolás (Emilio Zevinni) has become a pious chasid after spending some time in Israel.

For the mourners, the religious and familial obligations merely serve as a vehicle for pursuing personal agendas. Esther needs to know if Moishe loved her as much as he did his mistress; Ricardo is after his inheritance and also wants to arrange an abortion for his girlfriend; someone else shows up to collect a debt, and many alte kuckers hang around to dish nonsense for a captive audience.

“My Mexican Shivah” offers so much profundity that almost every viewer can walk out of the theater with something to mull. Esther and Ricardo’s clumsy attempts at earning their father’s validation are at times heartbreaking, and point to the spiritual malaise that plagues nearly every character. For most of them, religion is a tiresome series of rituals rather than a compass to guide them through their temptations, failings, and sins. In a sense, Mr. Springall’s film approaches religious parable thanks to the presence of the two angels, as well as tasteful touches of magical realism. But the film is not at all preachy. In fact, it’s often hilarious.

Mr. Springall and screenwriter Jorge Goldenberg have so skillfully infused the film with an intriguing story, convincing performances, and a breezy pace that one nearly forgets that the action unfolds almost entirely within the confines of one house. The film’s coda may be somewhat anticlimactic because the confrontations do not boil over as anticipated. But, like the rest of the film, it rings utterly true.