God: "Noah! They shalt builts thyself an ark, measuring 300 cubits in length!"
Russell Crowe: (writing on a stone tablet) "300 cubits…give or take."
God: "Exactly 300! And thou shalt taketh two of every creature!"
Russell Crowe: (writing it down) "Two creatures."
God: "Two of EVERY creature!"
Russell Crowe: "Even stink beetles?"
God: "ESPECIALLY stink beetles!"
The English title doesn't quite capture the revelatory paronomasia of the original Icelandic "Hross í oss", a rhyme which captures the thrust of the film, the "oss" at the heart of "hross"—memorably illustrated in one particularly gruesome scene—that there is no "us" without our equine partners, which provide humanity with transportation, companionship, guidance, entertainment, and even shelter.
A further thought not mentioned during the recent (and characteristically on the money) Chapo episode that led me to this: Whereas we may not see another political assassination on screen any time soon, that level of grotesque and cathartic violence instead has given way to the constant stream of mass shootings. No longer able to imagine an attack on the head of state, the acephalic networks of self-destructive Capital instead take aim at the body politic writ large.