a cacophonic embroidery that seamlessly shifts, very quickly, through an arc of nostalgia, fear, and death. cracked pavement, stone paths, and dark trees brilliantly juxtaposed against branding, scars, and murder.
Elegy to a lost world, to the lost soul of the world still in our hearts and eyes but lost to our conscious minds. The horse as symbol of our soul's freedom and true nature, symbol of the power of nature that we fear. John Berger would appreciate this film. There is no prelapsarian state, there is only our truest nature which is still accessible, and our daily abstraction and suppression of it is the root of tragedy.