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I found out about this film via Mark Cousin's well regarded "The Story of Film: an Odyssey", when he outlined some of the strongest features of the 80s.

The Horse Thief is a strikingly shot immersion into the unique, isolated and overwhelmingly spiritual culture of traditional Tibet, a country of snow laden plains and remote agrarian village life.

The nominal plot focuses on Norbu, a thief who is excommunicated from his tribe, to live in the harsh Tibetan hinterlands with this wife and child. Even his elders disdain him, and appear to show no sympathy for his crimes.

The tribe worships a local mountain deity for providence, but during an outbreak of disease many animals and family members suffer, some terminally. Norbu's family is allowed back into tribal society although his penalty is death, and there appears to be no alternative in the mid winter Tibetan snowfields.

The film's plot is almost overshadowed by the cinematography and focus on Tibetan civilization; their religious rites, celebrations, trading and working life all feature throughout. Parts of the "story" are presented as a dreamy montage of dancers, elemental images and Tibetan masks, with Buddhist themes of death and rebirth enacted by the cast, which is one of the exceptionally interesting things about the movie.

Its not really an epic film, and the actual scripted dialogue is pretty sparse, but worth seeing especially if you have a projector or similar large-screen display.

I cannot help thinking that Tian Zhuangzhuang is not only the least appreciated of the great contemporary Chinese directors, but also the least talented - his films (that is, the three that I have seen) made a lesser impression on me than, let's say, the works of Jia Zhangke or the nineties' output of Zhang Yimou.

"Lan feng zheng" (The Blue Kite), a socio-critical portrait of life in Communist China, seems a bit too static in its quiet, sober realism, with the director's continuous effort to charge Maoism tending to veil everything else ; only in the last segment the movie became truly touching for me.

In "Xiao cheng zhi chun" (Springtime in a Small Town) a couple of characters are, zombie-like, dragging past ornamental decorations of dilapidating claustrophobic interiors, or alternately walking on ruins of an ancient city wall ; I found this hardly anything more than a rather boring, banal quasi-Chekhovian étude.

The last - in fact, the oldest - of the three, "Dao ma zei" (The Horse Thief), is quite different. Minimalistic in plot and dialogues, it might be described as a sort of ethnographic documentary with touches of folk ballad : lyrical cinema close to some works of the Armenian Parajanov, albeit, to my regret, lacking his emotional power. Tibetan nature is the vamp of the movie, local religion + magic its core. The former I do savour, the latter I struggle to grasp, owing to the fact that my knowledge of it is considerably limited.

The last reason why I don't praise "The Horse Thief" as Scorsese did, may lie in the quality of the Chinese region-free disc (gzbeauty). Nevertheless, the non-anamorphic image from an old print, dirty and scratched, is better than I expected. It can be zoomed to proper OAR 2,35:1 on my player, though there's no room for subtitles then. For second viewing, they are not necessary anyway.

For those who liked "The Horse Thief" but felt deprived of the epic/action element, I would recommend "Kekexili" (Mountain Patrol) by Tian's compatriot Lu Chuan.

Among Chinese "Fifth Generation" film directors, the name Tian Zhuangzhuang might not sound as resounding as his classmates Zhang Yimou or Chen Keige, both internationally and domestically, principally because his two most famous works THE HORSE THIEF (1986) and THE BLUE KITE (1993) are both under heavy censorship for pluckily tackling the hot buttons, the Tibetan ethnic minorities and the adverse affect of the Culture Revolution, respectively. Tian's directorial endeavor has reached a standstill since 2009, after the flop THE WARRIOR AND THE WOLF (2009). With 11 features and 1 documentary under his bet, he, has since reinvented himself as an actor, giving consecutive affecting performances in two films made by female directors, Sylvia Chang's LOVE EDUCATION (2017) and her protégée Rene Liu's directorial debut US AND THEM (2018), awarded with coveted GOLDEN HORSE Awards nominations.

Made between Chen's groundbreaking YELLOW EARTH (1984) and Zhang's spectacular RED SORGHUM (1988), THE HORSE THIEF, already Tian's third feature, reverently lifts the veil of the myth around Tibet and deploys a cinéma-vérité guideline in peering through the mores of its denizens - mostly through their religious rituals (profuse with prayer wheels, floating prayers, as well as clinquant temples) and quotidian activities (a haunting living sheep burying sequence and the displacement caused by a plague) - and relishes in the sublime, pristine natural and architectural landscape, the seasonal changes in the Qingzang Plateau, the Roof of the World, from verdant green to an overwhelming snow white.

Opening and closing with authentic scenes of celestial burials, which signifies an ouroboric Buddhist transcendence, the film's elliptical narrative loosely hinges on the titular thief Norbu (Tseshang), whose contravention takes its toll when he and his nuclear family is punished into exile in 1923, bereavement and poverty will assail him and wife Dolma (Dan), even the blessing of pregnancy doesn't augur well for a family at the end of their tether (underpinned by a chthonic, eery traditional performance of masked deities watched by the couple). Yet, through his minimalist plot, Tian astutely points up the perpetuating conflict in Norbu's illicit métier and his indefatigable piety, who habitually allots a tranche of his haul to the Almighty in order to alleviate his sins, especially when the seeming reckoning is subjected to his young son, Tian masterfully conjures up a series of blue-tinted superimposed sequences manifesting the kowtowing couple's repentance, foreseeing the guilty-driven Norbu's ultimate fate.

Besides Hou Yong and Zhao Fei's mind-blowing photography, Qu Xiaosong's cavernous, otherworldly score is equally substantive in honing up the film's superlative aura of exotica and mystique, only the dubbed Tibetan dialogue sounds a tad dissonant, loud and out of synchronicity, although it is a small triumph since the original mainland theatrical release is histrionically dubbed in Mandarin at the behest of the harsh censorship. More of an ethnic reportage than a compelling exposé, THE HORSE THIEF is the living proof of Tian's humanistic aptitude and profound veneration to the ethnic heritage, not to mention he is also bestowed with a keen eye and a competent hand in finding divine beauty, whose oeuvre is in much exigency of rediscovery.

After hearing Martin Scorsese declare Horse Thief as the #1 film of the 90s (actually released in 1987) when co-hosting the annual "Best of" show with Roger Ebert, I set out to see this film. Luckily, there was a copy available in the library. Unfortunately, the library would not allow me to take it home. So, I was stuck watching this film on a 10 inch screen television in a cramped cubicle with uncomfortable headphones crushing my ears. Obviously, this was not the way that Tian intended his film to be viewed.

Tian Zhuangzhuang's third feature, Horse Thief, is essentially dialogue-free and is rather slim on plot. The film is reminiscent of the silent-era when directors were capable of manipulating the camera to communicate their desired idea. Basically, the film centers on the banishment of Norbu (forcefully personified by Rigzin Tseshang in an astonishing debut), a local horse thief, and his wife and son. Norbu gives up stealing horses for his wife and sets out to find a more respectable profession. When times get rough, Norbu is confronted with the reality that he must steal again to save his family from the harsh, unforgiving winter.

Tian's film has a striking realistic quality to it that plays like a documentary. In one scene, we are given the chance to watch a ritualistic ceremony designed to please the mountain god. While this scene evokes awe, some scenes may be seen as quite offensive. For example, Norbu comes up behind an unsuspecting lamb and slits its throat. The viewer is forced to watch the animal writhe and thrash agonizingly struggling for its last breaths. This scene, although I cannot deny its accuracy and technical beauty, is distressing to watch. The reality of this scene is not achieved through use of mechanical animals and fake blood; it is achieved by the actual killing of a lamb for the production of this film. Aside from this painfully unpleasant section, Tian's cinematic mastery is thoroughly evident.

Because of the deficient viewing conditions, I was only able to catch a glimpse of Tian's overwhelmingly glorious cinematography: Norbu dolefully places his son's dead body in the middle of a snow-covered meadow for the gods to take. In deep focus, the camera slowly reveals Norbu's utter aloneness and emptiness. In this one shot, Tian has created cinematic perfection.

A fascinating window into the world of Tibetan tribal life. Beautifully shot with stunning locations. The narrative is a little weak, but makes up for it visually. One draw back is a few scenes of animal cruelty. These images are what stayed with me most and unfortunately let down the movie.

This Chinese feature presents an impressive but challenging adventure for the more discriminating fans of Third World cinema, although the episodic, non-verbal style might seem to some even more remote than the high Tibetan plateaus where it was shot. There's a token storyline about a tribesman cast out from his clan for thievery, but the film is inclined more toward armchair anthropology, capturing the cryptic and obscure customs of the native Tibetans and the harsh conditions that shape their fate. Some of the cheap dubbing tends to blunt the film's impact, but at any rate the soundtrack is usually overwhelmed by the magnificent wide-screen photography, ushering the viewer into an isolated, alien world of soaring mountains and broad desert basins. This is a place where climate and terrain not only determine character, but are characters themselves: implacable, indifferent, and demanding.

The theme behind this movie is the same as that of Ben Ming Nian (1990) directed by Mr. Fei Xie: criminals trying to go straight but are forced to go back to the old ways for survival due to lack of opportunities.

The theme reflected the problem of current society, and the problem started in the 1980's. As one of his early works and the political climates of China back then, it is understandable that the director adopted the cautious approach by using remote region such as Tibet and time setting that is more than half a century ago. One really needs to acknowledge the problem of current China (and in fact, the problem of many countries), in order to discover the link between the movie and its subtle attempt to criticize the contemporary society.

This is a movie about human beings living in the stark and pitiless land of Tibet. Tibetans have a clear if not too numerous a presence in North India and I always felt deeply curious about these strangers from a land not too distant yet strange and mysterious. My first memories of these people are of tattered nomads moving in groups. Today they are educated, vocal and have prospered economically on Indian soil.The present film is like a response to an inborn craving to visit this land.

It is set in 1923, thus steering clear of political controversies in China, of which Tibet is now a part. Tibet is the highest plateau in the world, with an average altitude of 16,000 feet. Going by this film, it also seems the most wind blown place. The mists are always floating swiftly away and the pennants planted near temples fluttering noisily like an array of weathercocks. I cannot remember any movie with such splendor of cinematography, not even David Lean at his best. It is a world of transcendent beauty. There is nothing of the picture postcard tailor's dummy prettiness. The azure mountains, snow deserts and water bodies live and breathe as though with the presence of stern deities. The musical score , comprising natural sounds, muffled incantations and a continuous drone punctuated with funereal beats of percussion unspoken script or reverent commentary on this extra terrestrial world.

Norbu is a poor member of a nomadic tribe. He has a wife and small boy to support. Though devout he is forced into stealing horses for survival. He is expelled from his group under sentence of amputation if he should return. The film follows his journey through different regions in the course of which he loses his son to disease and sires another one. Religion and ceremonies dominate the life of these simple minded and plainspoken folk. Probably they need this belief as a necessity in their lives with death and starvation constantly dangling over them. Norbu is a god fearing person and it is only to save his offspring from the jaws of starvation that he is driven to stealing. He contributes a good part of his "earnings" to the temple.

Both the mood and the score is reminiscent of Tarkovsky's Stalker. These snow blown mountains and deserts are also inhabited by a mysterious presence hinting at realities other than the familiar. The word mesmeric applied to this film is not a cliché but an accurate description of it's power.

At the end of the day, people are the same--in Tibet, Calcutta or in the US.

Everything about this movie is just plain stupid. The story is slowly, the cinematography bores, .... It is so annoying this picture that you might wish you were not awake while seeing it and that says enough.

Set in 1923 against the breathtaking Tibetan landscape, The Horse Thief describes the retribution visited upon a clan member who is stealing horses. With minimal plot or dialogue, it is essentially a meditation on the Tibetan's struggle for survival in a harsh and uncompromising environment. The film dramatizes both the everyday occurrences and the religious rituals that are part of the fabric of Tibetan life.

The simple tale involves Norbu (Rigzin Tseshang), a member of a clan, who is accused of stealing horses and temple goods to support his wife Dolma (Jiji Dan) and their adored young son Tashi (Jamco Jayang). To keep the clan cleansed of evil, Norbu and his family are ostracized and banished to assume the life of wanderers. Norbu and his family leave the clan but do not renounce their faith. Appealing for divine intervention to keep them alive, the family engages in Buddhist rituals such as turning the prayer wheels, masked ceremonial dances, and prostration to Buddha.

Ultimately, their nomadic existence takes a grim personal toll. At the point of starvation, Norbu has to eat the newly fallen snow to give him strength, and is forced to resume stealing to save his family from the cold winter. The conclusion is stunning in its elemental power.

Though I was deeply moved by Tian's despairing vision and awed by the film's gorgeous cinematography, I found The Horse Thief to be quite demanding to watch. The film moves very slowly with long, static shots during which the camera remains fixed for several minutes. Also, being unfamiliar with Tibetan culture, I sought more explanation of the significance of some rituals, for example, the grazing of sacred sheep and the dances using ceremonial masks. I feel, however, that The Horse Thief transcends specific cultural limitations and achieves a universal quality in its depiction of the importance of faith and the strength of family.

I would have liked to have seen The Horse Thief in the theater, and hear it spoken in the original Tibetan language (it was dubbed into Mandarin). Nonetheless, I am grateful for having received this authentic insight into Tibetan culture, something that is uncommon in these days of Chinese occupation. Watching this film was almost a furtive experience, like stealing a glimpse into a beautiful and haunting secret world and rediscovering what it means to be human.

I would love to meet the moron from the Detroit Free Press who gave this film two stars. I give him 0 stars; he belongs in clown school, not film school. This film doesn't need a better script; the script is perfect. It is just as perfect as the cinematography. Films like Ran and Barry Lyndon come to mind for the equals of its cinematography. This simple story of a horse thief is unforgettable. This is one of the ten top films of all time to come out of China; and that is a very tough list. When I wrote my book on Chinese film, The Best 150 Chinese Films of All Time, I including a sparkling review for this film. It is not to be missed by any serious film buff.

Big screen is the only place to see this masterpiece. As the last of the films viewed @ the Detroit Institute of Arts Detroit Film Theatre's Monday Night Series, Horse Thief was fitting to be viewed last: truly the best was saved till last.

A Detroit Free Press reviewer gave the film only 2 stars because of a "sorely needed script". The beauty of this film is exactly that lack of dialogue which leaves room to enjoy the visual feast that the director intended.

I am grateful that the film was allowed out of China at all and privileged to view the beauty of Tibetan culture and Buddhist monk rituals, the inside of a Tibetan temple with rows and rows of flickering candles, the tortured beauty of the mountainous region in summer, spring and winter and the painful, poignant and ultimately tragic tale of a man, his wife and children and their lives in a region of the world that some Americans might only see in the pages of National Geographic.

I knew almost nothing about this film or its director upon going it, but by the end, I was blown away. After about 20 minutes, I stopped paying attention to the story and focused instead on the mysticism of the whole affair. Zhuangzhuang crafts so many memorable scenes of religious and cultural rituals, including sacrifices and funerals, and these scenes are directed in the most mysterious way possible. Whether you're referring to the layered sound design which is full of haunting drones, mantras, and music choices, the visually striking cinematography which has a handful of striking set pieces, contrasts vibrant colors against endless grass hills, or pares cross-dissolves with the photography, this film is so aesthetically in my wheelhouse I just have to love it. Even the more grounded scenes are shot and framed very well and make for a nice bridge in between the mystical scenes. With that being said, I'm surprised I ultimately decided not to give this film a perfect rating. I think this was due to a slight disconnect I began to feel towards the end since the film was counting on me being more invested in the characters than I actually was. Which isn't to say I didn't care about the characters at all, but focusing most of my attention on the stylistic elements didn't exactly do the ending much favors. Still though, it's a great film and I'll definitely keep an eye out for Zhuangzhuang's other films.

Tian Zhuangzhuang introduces us to a film set in the untamed and remote landscapes of Tibet, featuring non-professional actors who captivate audiences with vibrant colors and an intriguing format. Through his creative prowess and adept handling of sound and visuals, Tian establishes a direct connection that transcends the challenges of the narrative. The main character, a horse thief ousted from his tribe and local customs, including Buddhist death rituals, embodies an ecological mysticism proposing a fresh dynamic between humanity and nature. Thus, the blend of audiovisual elements, encompassing music and exquisite cinematography, evokes a profound emotional response to the harsh reality of an intense struggle for survival. This struggle, reminiscent of the Eastern tradition where vultures aid in carrying the souls of the departed, simply persists endlessly.

I'm not Martin Scorsese, I'm not a film student, I'm just a guy who likes movies. I saw this film tonight and found myself a little mystified over all the praise. I'm also not the Summer Blockbuster guy either so that's not my justification for not gushing about this film.

I will remember the primitiveness and brutality of life in Tibet. I will remember the colorful and confusing religious rituals. I'm sure they'd say the same thing about Catholicism. The landscape is beautiful, but that kind of sells itself. Why does the director take credit for that?

As stated on other reviews there are several scenes of sheep abuse which are less than politically correct. OK yeah, I get it, it's a different culture. Doesn't make it easier to watch.

Working with a group of non-actors is a major hurdle to overcome and I salute Tian for overcoming this.

I kept thinking it a bit odd that Norbu's wife had no idea what he did for a living. I also found it a bit odd that she had no recrimination for him after getting banished. Further more I'd have thought she'd really see red when their son dies, probably as a result of their standard of living after being banished. Perhaps this is a cultural difference. I understand the director is making a political statement in this film, but ultimately it seems fairly universal, not a product of Chinese society specifically.

To sum up the dubbing was awful, the sound quality in general was very poor, character development was fairly minimal and the one scene of violence (people on people) was not very convincing. I'm sure I would need to go to film school to find out why this film was called the best of the decade, but if you need that much education to appreciate something is it really worth it in the end?