The Turin Horse Reviews
February 21, 2015
Perhaps if this were your very first Bela Tarr film (and he suggests that it is his very last), then this would be a more intense and compelling experience -- as I had when I saw Sátántangó as my introduction. Tarr revisits the tone and style of that earlier seven hour film in this shorter one (only 2 1/2 hours but composed of just 30 long shots). That is to say, this is a bleak but beautiful, slow and hypnotizing, high contrast black and white stare at repetitive peasant life in the midst of an endless possibly apocalyptic windstorm. Tarr famously refuses to be drawn as to whether there is any deeper meanings to his films, although we are told it is based on an anti-theology and this is an anti-creation film - in the six days of the story, the world fades to black (let there be dark, indeed). If the starting point of this entire script is the question of what happened to the horse that Nietzsche famously saved from flogging, you might think that his philosophy is somehow a key to unlocking things here - and a visitor seeking palinka (Hungarian fruit brandy) does spout some "beyond good and evil" beliefs - but our lead character calls them "bullshit". This may be an example of Tarr's sense of humor, if he has one. The horse dies anyway.
January 15, 2015
PUTA MERDA, GENTE. Estou abismada que demorei tanto pra assistir essa obra-prima.
December 4, 2014
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November 27, 2014
One of the best cinematic experiences i've ever had
April 28, 2014
After a second watch a five starts rating finds its way to that Epic.
November 16, 2014
Béla Tarr is for me most know as the guy that made the ultra long "Sátántangó", a 7.5 hour long film.
This film starts of with some words involving German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche and when he gets struck by serious mental illness. When the film starts we get naturalistic scenes, slow scenes, long scenes, windy scenes, static scenes. When there are movement it's beautiful but slow. When the images are still, they never really are, there are something moving. Steam, fire or something. The people involved utter no words. The horse is the best actor of the film, that's pretty cool.
Hounting music is key combined with the imagery. Astonishing cinematography and camerawork
It's a film you can leave for 20 minutes and you won't miss out on much, almost nothing at all. That's how slow it is. It's also repitative. Actually, the film is so slow that shots freeze, sometimes after focusing, onto a wall or something for 30 seconds before we get some camera movement or some sort of cut. My mind is twitching and turning, especially near the end while the lightening and images are magical.
A film that's definitely looks at it's best in black and white, it creates the right cold atmosphere.
It's difficult to rate this haunting, but in a way a really, really boring film as well. Long, rare and definitely something different for a limited audience. This two and a half hour long film is divided into 30 takes and got it's feet into the art landscape, and it stays miles away from thrilling and entertaining features.
8.5 out of 10 potatoes.
July 1, 2012
Excellent photographical essay on a world winding down
February 20, 2012
I call emperor's got no clothes. This is uneventful and unbearable to watch. "Artsy" appears to be another word for "this looks like complete shit, but everyone else is still pretending that this was momentous, so I guess I'll play along". Ironically, the costuming looks like it's worth a closer look, had they factored lighting into the budget.
The monotonous dirge is a really suitable soundtrack.
May 19, 2013
It's beautifully, hauntingly, eerily, perfectly, shot and scored, but the story and overall monotone nature (while probably intentional), just ends up wearing you down by the end of the film. It's unrelentingly bleak in nature, slow paced, with long takes. It's not at all for casual audience, but if you like weighty parables, look no further. I definitely don't think the movie compares with Tarr's earlier work, particular Harmonies, which I maintain is his masterpiece. This is supposedly Tarr's last film, and in some ways it would be a fitting end. I just wish he made something a bit more engaging.
December 25, 2013
First Day: Food and shelter
Second Day: Touching, acquiring and therefore debasing
Third Day: God watches all over you
Fourth Day: Scarcity
Fifth Day: Darkness and silence
Sixth Day: Death
Predominant elements throughout the days: A storm raging outside and moving everything that can be found in the air and on the ground, like trying to reach a destination, shadows, cotidianity occupying three alienated souls (two humans, one animal), a strong wind heard while outside, ghastly and scary wind sounds from the inside, repentance, mysteries unspoken, emotional detachment, water and potatoes.
Bonus feature: Presented in the Second Day: A destructive critique to civilization throughout the centuries against authority and other godly figures attempting to establish their false omnipresence above everybody else, until a worldwide populace realizes that those trying to embody godly roles actually represent false promises and attempt to tear the system down.
The moment in which the horse started to cry, my soul escaped my body and tears attempted to escape through my eyes. If this is meant to be the final testament from a film-making master, I shall embrace every single "post-neorealist" fragment and landscape he tried to represent throughout 5 decades, culminating in his most death-oriented statement composed by 30 shots with an average length of exactly 4 minutes and 52 seconds each.
P.S. It surprises me that this is the most acclaimed film by the director, and also the most famous. Not arguing about this master farewell's greatness, this wouldn't even be in his Top 3.
December 6, 2013
Brilliant and miserable
September 26, 2013
To the casual observer, it might appear that there is nothing happening in the supremely deliberately paced, yet somehow oddly mesmerizing "The Turin Horse." Ohlsdorfer(Janos Derzsi) and his daughter(Erika Bok) might beg to differ, as this is life on their farm in microcosm that we are talking about. Granted, it is a hard life that usually consists of boiled potatoes for dinner and Ohlsdorfer's busted right arm not helping matters in the least. So, when a windstorm settles in for several days which their horse wants nothing to do with, their whole existence is under threat. However, as long as they have any brandy left, they should still be in good shape...
July 21, 2013
A bore! Really deserves no stars! Tarr wants to show you how boring and repetitive the life's of these people were back in the 19th century by just laying his camera in place and shooting them doing mundane repetitive tasks and forcing his audience to watch for a painful and slow moving 2:26 minutes! Boring and tedious. It is almost like watching a full day security tape of people working at the yard and nothing important happens!
August 11, 2013
Horribly boring, dull and repetitive pretentious "art"-garbage. Literally NOTHING happens during the course of 2 1/2 hours, apart from two people eating potatoes and going to the well to get water. People who like this kind of thing must be masochists.
|Cameron W. Johnson||
August 10, 2013
"Mr. Crowley... won't you ride my Turin horse? ...It's symbolic, of course!" Opening this article with a reference to an Ozzy Osbourne probably doesn't reinforce the idea that I'm tasteful enough to tell you whether or not the critics are wrong when it comes to this "art" piece, but I feel that "Mr. Crowley" fits in this situation, because if this film is nothing else, it is... monotonous, tedious, virtually plotless, laughably pretentious... and also symbolism-heavy... I guess. Béla Tarr's message at this point has to just be that critics will accept any kind of piece of trash so long as it's different, because if you're expecting this film to be all the excitement of people talking about some horse and Jesus Christ's possible burial in Turin, the most this film does that's relevant to that potential story concept is put you to sleep for three days. Seriously, after "Sátántangó", I pretty much was expecting this film to be nothing more than a camera staring at a horse in Turin for two-and-a-half hours, but then again, "Sátántangó" was by no means as exciting as the tango with Satan that it promised in its title. Shoot, come to think of it, this film isn't too far off from my fears, because one the occasions in which you're not having to sit through Erika Bók's mug (Man, she has by no means gotten any prettier since she played that little girl in "Sátántangó"), all you're doing is watching the horse whose whipping supposedly drove Friedrich Nietzsche into a mental breakdown, only you never get the excitement of said stableman laying down said whipping which was so hardcore that it made the guy who kept preaching about the death of God say, "Mother, I am dumb", then stay quiet until he finally expired ten years later. Well, at least this film is only [b][u]"two-and-a-half hours[/b][/u], rather seven hours and a quarter (This is somehow much worse than "Sátántangó", but at least it's less than half of the length), and that's one of the best things that you can say about this piece of garbage, though it's not the only thing to commend.
This film's score is not nearly as underused as the score for "Sátántangó" ("Sátántangó" is almost three times longer than this film and it has even less musicality, it's so quiet), but it is, of course, used only so much throughout this bone-dry meditative piece, and when it does finally arrive, it's generally pretty monotonous, though it's not like I can solely dismiss Mihály Víg's musical efforts, as they have a certain ominously brooding, dark classical minimalism to them that is relatively unique and often breathes a degree of life into the film's atmosphere. Really, most every aspect of the film's audio style deserves about as much praise as it does criticism, because both Víg's score and Gábor ifj. Erdélyi's sound mixing and editing provide a certain white noise during the quiet spells - of which there are countless - that exacerbates the drowsiness which should be felt more than it is within the annoyingly overrating critics, but it is just as often relatively effective in drawing you into the film, much like the visual style. Needless to say, the black-and-white look of this film that director Béla Tarr is such a big fan of limits the potential of this film's visual style, and does no favors when it comes to settling the overwhelmingness blandness of the film, but cinematographer Fred Kelemen still impresses about as much as he can, using the black-and-white "color" palette to capture the harsh bleakness of the film, while playing with sparse lighting in a way that is consistently haunting, and sometimes stunning in an almost, maybe even decidedly gothic way. The film's style may be problematic in plenty of place, but much of it is generally effective, and that carries the final product, well, some fair degree of distance, particularly when such style is actually handled about as well it's going to be. Béla Tarr's and "editor" Ágnes Hranitzky's directorial efforts are so minimalist that it's unreal, but that's just because the film, even on paper, is about as minimalist as it can possibly get without being, I don't know, a picture or blank screen, as the directors remind you with one questionable mistake after another, but really, whether it be because you get kind of used to the film after a while, Stockholm syndrome style or something, or whatever, there are those rare occasions in which Tarr and Hranitzky nail the atmosphere they're gunning for by genuinely immersing you into this film's distinct environment and chilling you with a bleak atmosphere. Okay, allow me to retract my statement that the film's directors "nail" the atmosphere they were hoping to get, because if this film is supposed to be more than compelling is most minimal way, it fails so miserably it would be laughable if you weren't too angry and exhausted to groan, let alone chuckle, but there are those relatively effective occasions that, with the help of an impressive style, save the film from collapsing beneath simply unwatchable. Of course, the point is that, no matter how pretty the film may be, it is unwatchable, and whether that be on purpose or not, I just could not enjoy this utter piece of unbearable garbage, which doesn't even give you the common courtesy of telling you about the characters you're stuck with for two-and-a-half miserable hours.
About all this film tells you about its leads is that they are related, live on a farm and are, in the most superfluous of ways, associated with a philosopher, and I'm not asking for too much information beyond that, there is absolutely no development to these characters whose names aren't even revealed, and who serve no purpose outside of being something for this film to "focus" its meditations on, due their facing no real conflict, thus leaving you to never, ever, ever make any form of investment in the characters who bridge the ever so occasional dialogue piece with sitting, lying down, walking and eating, almost always quietly. As you can imagine, the quietness does more than just distance you from the characters, because when I say that atmospheric reinforcement is minimal, oh man, do I mean that this is one bone-dry atmosphere, whose thoughtfulness is occasionally effective, but also occasionally bland, being, more often than not, tediously dull with its numbing quietness. Again, if nothing else inspires the relatively effective occasions within the film's thoughtful atmosphere, it's your simply getting used to the film's brood, because there's nearly nothing about this cold, lifeless atmosphere, which thins pacing into total dissipation and leaves momentum to fall slave to the final product's length, which should not be felt. As if it's not bad enough that the film is glacial in its atmospheric pacing, at just under two-and-a-half hours, this meditative "drama" is way, way, way too long, being comprised of apparently only "30" shots which linger on nothing but nothing outside of life at its most monotonous, until what you end up with is a punishingly bloated film that is built strictly on filler, and I mean, "strictly", seeing as how filler cannot get excessive without being present in the first place. The film is billed as a what-if dramatization of the life of the stableman who brought legendary philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche to insanity by whipping his own defiant horse, but really, the role of the stableman and his steed in the life behind a name as weighty as that of Nietzsche is just there for the sake of being there, ostensibly to build some kind of an obligatory synopsis, as this could be any stableman and any horse, - it doesn't matter - because as much as it's gotten to be popular to call some kind of a lame-brain blockbuster or aimless comedy "plotless", or to say that nothing happens in other overly arty experimental pieces of this nature, this film is literally without a narrative, being a two-and-a-half-hour-long meditation upon absolutely no substance whatsoever, just filler, which is purposeful, sure, seeing as how this film is a deliberate showcase of the monotony within the lives of its nameless and undeveloped leads on some barren potato farm, but so pointless, it's impossible to imagine that this project was anything more than a joke (For the record, the review that you're reading right now was written entirely while I was watching the film without pausing, knowing that there's nothing to miss). I sincerely wish that I was kidding in my bold statement that this film is virtually plotless, but make no bones about it, people, there is no exposition, conflict, focus or structure to this character study, and such a move is indeed daringly, almost respectably new, but for a reason, as everyone should know that it is completely impossible for this kind of idea to work, yet that doesn't stop Béla Tarr from gunning for it, and having the nerve to figuratively stare you dead in the face and demand that you appreciate his comically misguided non-effort. On top of being dull, bloated and unfocused to an incomprehensible degree, the film is offensively pretentious, and I can't even begin to vocalize how frustrated I am to see these equally pretentious art drones with the audacity to title themselves "film critic" humor Tarr, because even though the sheer boldness of the project, combined with an impressive technical style, lovely visual style, and the occasional moment of genuine relative effectiveness, keep the film firmly secured from the point of falling beneath a whole number on my rating system, this is, if anything, an offense to artistry which has to be seen in order to be believed, but should by no means be suffered.
Bottom line, Mihály Víg's unique score has a certain effectiveness to its brooding tastefulness, and Fred Kelemen's cinematography captures the tone of the film, often with a gorgeousness to its sparseness, while relatively effective moments within the immersion value of Béla Tarr's and Ágnes Hranitzky's direction give you glimpses of a really bad, and therefore considerably superior film, but when it's all said and done, there really is no exposition or, for that matter, narrative, and with such a punishing non-premise being made all the more grating by a terribly unreasonable length of two-and-a-half hours, an atmospheric dryness that impossibly tedious, and an infuriating pretense in the air, "The Turin Horse" is left to fall flat as an utterly unwatchable portrait of artistry at its most misguided.
1/5 - Dreadful
August 1, 2013
1889 Nietzsche left his house and found a horse being whipped by its owner. Nietzsche started to cry and hugged the horse. When he got home he lied motionless for two days. Then he said: "Mutter, ich bin dumm = Mother I am stupid". Nietzsche lived for about ten more years in insanity.
But what happend to the horse? This Hungarian film by the legend Bela Tarr gives the answer. It's the countryside, a father and a daughter and this animal. It's black and white, long takes and about half an hour goes without anybody saying anything.
It's the apocalypse and you can't stop watching the screen. You think of Tarkovsky, but without that holyness. It's about six days and God created the world during the same time. Here it is destroyed. And it lacks comfort.
July 24, 2013
Bela Tarr is one of the truly edgy filmmakers who have tested and pushed against the limits of "majority cinema", if you will. He does not seem to have regard for his audience, other than to assure, through use of his trademark long takes and his chilling soundscapes, that whoever is watching will be consumed by the desperation and uncertainty that permeate each one of the films I've seen of his. This is what makes them demanding and unpleasant. The Turin Horse, the filmmaker's declared last film, is no exception. For the course of two and a half hours, we are hunkered down in a destitute home in the middle of desert like farm country. The only sounds we get are the weeping of the strong winds and the unsettling musical score which seems to be on constant repeat throughout. And that's it. In terms of action we see only a man and his daughter eating, dressing, working and driving gypsies away. It's tedious and one easily begins questioning the intentions and reasoning behind the film's form. But however uneventful the film is, Bela Tarr remains one of the most interesting cinematic visionaries, and its hard not to admire what seems to be painstaking attention and precision with every last shot.
August 1, 2012
The Turin Horse is a grim, simple fable that is bravely visionary and chillingly poetic.
May 8, 2013
sublime, gets under your skin in a good way.
April 25, 2013
Großes habe ich über den ungarischen Großmeister gehört. Vor allem die Vergleiche mit Andrei Tarkovsky haben mich aufhorchen lassen, und so machte ich mich nach eineinhalb Jahren, seit mir dieser Film das erste Mal bei den European Film Awards untergekommen war, endlich ans Werk, das Werk von Béla Tarr zu erforschen.
Ich habe großartige Bilder verpasst. Atmosphärische Schwarz-Weiß Aufnahmen mit beeindruckenden Dollyfahrten. Einen Film, noch langsamer, als alles was Tarkovsky zu bieten hat. Tatsächlich wurde ich öfters an Chantal Akermans Jeanne Dielman" erinnert als an irgendeinen Tarkovsky Film. Diese monotone Eintönigkeit der täglichen Abläufe im Hause der Familie, deren Pferd später einmal Nietzsche in den Wahnsinn treiben sollte.
Vor lauter Eintönigkeit und Leere blieb mir leider auch der tiefere philosophische Sinn, sollte der Film überhaupt einen enthalten, verborgen. Zwar war ich begeistert vom den technischen Aspekten wie Kameraführung, Musik und der fast vollkommenen Absenz von Dialog (ehrlich, dieser Film ist fast ein Stummfilm) sowie von den ewig langen Einstellungen, aus denen der gesamte Film besteht (es sind kaum dreißig glaube ich gelesen zu haben) aber Tarr beweist sich als Meister des Unkommerziellen.
Oft bewegt sich der Film nur knapp am Rande der Langweiligkeit, ohne die selben meditativen Qualitäten wie Tarkovskys oder Malicks Werke zu zeigen. Sicher einer der langsamsten Filme die ich je gesehen habe.
Ich finde es gut, wenn sich Regisseure aufs visuelle Erzählen verstehen, Dialog und andere Mittel in den Hintergrund treten lassen, und sich auf das per se filmische konzentrieren, aber Das Turiner Pferd" fehlt ein wenig der tiefere Sinn. Zwar mag er visueller Poet und Philosoph sein, ähnlich wie der mittlerweile schon mehrmals genannte Tarkovsky, doch jener versteht es weit besser den Bildern durch Montage und gelegentliche Paceänderungen Sinn zu verleihen, während Tarr sich stur aufs Abfilmen in neo-realistischer Tradition konzentriert.
Das Turiner Pferd" zeugt von Tarrs Überzeugung als Filmemacher alle Zeit der Welt zu haben um seine Geschichte" zu erzählen und den Dingen auf den Grund zu Gehen. Warum er dann nicht tatsächlich den Dingen auf den Grund geht, sondern still und stumm die Düsternis einziehen lässt sei dahingestellt.
PS: Ungarisch ist die passende Sprache für einen Schwarzweißfilm.