Of Horses and Men

Dir: Benedikt Erlingsson

2013

****

Benedikt Erlingsson’s wonderfully dry 2013 comedy has one of my favorite introductions of all time. Set in a remote Icelandic valley where there is really nothing but horses and voyeurism for the locals to enjoy, Kolbeinn a middle-aged man with delusions of grandeur among his village, rides his magnificent and newly trained horse to the house of single-mother Solveig, of whom he is attracted. The pair clearly like each other but are bound by a distinct awkwardness. Kolbeinn displays his new horse as if it were an extension of his manliness, clearly a subconscious show of strength and virility and one that works on Solveig. However, she is with her mother and young son, they chat for a short while, drink tea and Kolbeinn is away again. However, Solveig’s untrained horse is also clearly smitten with Kolbeinn’s mare and jumps his fence in pursuit. As the entire village watches at a distance through binoculars, the untrained colt catches up with Kolbeinn and mounts his mare without resistance. Kolbeinn is left helpless, waiting for the pair to finish their business, with the inkling that everyone is watching. He goes home and shoots his horse and one of the funniest black comedies made in the last twenty years begins. Iceland cinema is pretty rich and varied considering the country’s size, and while 2015’s Rams is similar in some respects, Of Horse and Men is as unique as it gets. The film is essentially a series of six fables connected by the cast and location. The characters are mixed bunch of young and old, traditionalists and modern thinks with only their history, location and love of horses in common. Like most black comedies, Of Horse and Men deals with the opportunistic trinity of sex, fate and death and how cruel – and funny - each can be. Very few people live in such remote and hostile environments but somehow writer and director Benedikt Erlingsson involves the audience and one becomes, not just sympathetic with the villagers, but also somehow able to relate with them, even though their lives are a far cry from our own. The film has a somewhat primal feeling to it, where tradition and modern ways of life co-exist but often clash, leading to often exaggerated conclusions. It’s a classic Nordic film in this respect, full of contrasts. I love Nordic films, there is always fire and water at play, with exterior scenes chilling one to the bone, followed by the warmth of the internal fireplace. Life and death are always explored with a wry smile, as if to say ‘Aren’t we flawed but aren’t we beautiful – anyway, life goes on’. It’s a meditation on fate through horses and Iceland. A rather special piece of its time, a film I’m sure generations of Icelanders will look back on in years to come. You have got to get the balance right when making a black comedy though, and Benedikt Erlingsson has managed it perfectly.