Of Horses and Men

The horse is a decidedly cinematic beast; aesthetically and symbolically rich, its uneasy alliance with man is instantly and almost universally recognisable across cultures and epochs. Traditionally the beast has been sacrificed for art, notably in Tarkovsky’s Andrei Rublev and Haneke’s Time of the Wolf. Horse lovers can rest easy here, though: the equine body count is more than zero on screen, no animals were actually harmed in the making of this bizarre, offbeat Icelandic gem.

A weaving of roughly six vignettes, Of Horses and Men – Iceland’s official submission to the most recent Oscars – deftly crafts a darkly comic portrait of rural Iceland mores. Here, all life revolves around local, wild horses that are seasonally tamed; it’s an idiosyncratically Icelandic way of living. An uneasy triumvirate emerges between the harsh Nordic environs, beast and man: each element primal and civilised to varying degrees. Ultimately, the film is a mediation on our world through an equine gaze, celebrating and critiquing the unequal alliance between horse and human. [Rachel Bowles]