30/08/2024 - VENICE 2024: After an intriguing set-up introducing its quirky lead character, Luis Ortega’s film loses its way owing to confusing writing and clunky character development

Úrsula Corberó and Nahuel Pérez Biscayart in Kill the Jockey

In Luis Ortega’s latest endeavour, a bizarre dramedy titled Kill the Jockey [+see also:
trailer
interview: Luis Ortega
film profile] and one of the Golden Lion contenders at this year’s Venice Film Festival, we get to know a rather unique leading character, a legendary jockey called Remo Manfredini. Portrayed by Nahuel Pérez Biscayart, Manfredini is a diminutive man who has developed a number of addictions and extravagant habits, quickly leading him down a path of self-destruction. His girlfriend Abril (Úrsula Corberó) seems to outshine his talent, and they both live under the tight control of local mobster Sirena (Daniel Giménez Cacho). The first turning point occurs when Manfredini takes part in an important race which will clear him of his debts with Sirena. During the competition, the man suddenly loses control of his Japanese thoroughbred horse, ends up being severely injured and falls into a coma. After a while, he wakes up, steals a fur coat belonging to a patient lying in the same hospital room and begins wandering the streets of Buenos Aires.

Up until this point, Ortega’s film manages to prompt some laughter and entertain thanks to its surreal setting and quirky lead, setting up the main conflicts and relationships in a more or less clear fashion. What comes next, however, is another movie – and not an accomplished one. Even though we may realise that Manfredini is a particularly problematic character from the start as he deals with a number of unresolved physical and psychological issues, we will witness him embarking on an unexpected path of inner “rediscovery” which is not backed up by sufficient character development. Manfredini’s behaviour gradually gets more and more “borderline”, and we see him involved in many over-the-top dialogues and scenes. The jockey is meant to “die” and be born again – looking for a new identity, which will hopefully be one he feels more comfortable with. What is unclear at some moments is “why” certain things happen on screen and as part of the film’s backstory. Thus, we may get a sense that things are being performed, rather than happening organically. In other words, when everything looks like a plot twist or a coup de théâtre, it isn’t a good sign and is usually the result of poor, confusing writing. Despite the commendable intent of touching on identity issues from a novel perspective, Ortega crafts a fragile, nebulous tale where the weird and the surreal don’t help him dig deep into his characters or explore their inner world. On the contrary, they keep everything on the surface, making us question their very presence. Finally, the overall lack of clarity is maintained until the closure of the narrative arc, which is staged too ambiguously to be satisfying.

On a more positive note, the cinematography by Timo Salminen is able to envelop most of the decaying environments in which this tale is set (Sirena’s bar, a prison, the racecourse interiors and so on) in lighting that makes them all look dirty and depressing, just as they are supposed to be. Besides this, the score made up of original tracks and local oldies, courtesy of Sune Rose Wagner, is energetic and sits well with the pic’s eccentric mood.

Kill the Jockey was produced by Argentinian outfit Rei Pictures, and co-produced by Mexico’s Piano, Mexican-Spanish firm El Estudio, Denmark’s Snowglobe, Argentina’s Jacinto Films and Mexico’s Barraca, in association with US-based VIX, Argentina’s Pampa Films and Spain’s Gloriamundi, together with Mexican-US studio Dim Films and Fundación Ernesto Sábato. Protagonist Pictures is in charge of the feature’s world sales.