El Jockey

A movie good enough to be Argentine, since it's not something that uses to happen.

Luis Ortega's El Jockey is a surreal and provocative dive into identity, addiction, and self-destruction. Starring Nahuel Pérez Biscayart as Remo, a washed-up jockey spiraling into chaos, the film blends gritty realism with moments of absurdity. His toxic relationship with Abril (Úrsula Corberó) adds depth to a story that constantly defies expectations.

With striking cinematography by Timo Salminen and a bold narrative structure, El Jockey challenges conventional storytelling. Pérez Biscayart delivers a raw, intense performance, making this a gripping exploration of reinvention and self-destruction. A daring and unforgettable cinematic experience.

Buy enough popcorn for the entire duration of this film - not because you'll enjoy it, but because you'll need something to distract you from the utter lack of quality. This is, by far, the worst film I have ever seen. The plot is nonsensical, the dialogue feels like it was written in one sitting by someone who had never seen a movie before, and the acting is painfully wooden. The only reason I didn't walk out was because it was pouring outside, and staying dry seemed like the better option. I was so disappointed that I created an IMDb account just to try and save someone else from wasting 1 hour and 30 minutes of their life. Do yourself a favor: avoid it at all costs!

"El Jockey" (2024), directed by Luis Ortega, is a visually striking and narratively audacious film that delves into the tumultuous life of Remo Manfredini, portrayed with remarkable depth by Nahuel Pérez Biscayart. Once a celebrated jockey, Remo's descent into self-destructive behaviors threatens not only his career but also his relationships, particularly with his partner Abril, played by Úrsula Corberó. Abril, an aspiring jockey herself, faces the dilemma of pursuing her racing ambitions or embracing impending motherhood. Their shared association with the enigmatic businessman Sirena, interpreted by Daniel Giménez Cacho, adds layers of complexity to the narrative.

Ortega's direction is both bold and unconventional, blending elements of drama, surrealism, and dark humor to craft a story that is as unpredictable as it is engaging. The film's visual aesthetic, captured through the lens of cinematographer Timo Salminen, offers a dreamlike portrayal of Buenos Aires, enhancing the narrative's exploration of identity and transformation.

The supporting cast, including Daniel Fanego, Osmar Núñez, and Roberto Carnaghi, deliver compelling performances that enrich the film's intricate tapestry. The eclectic soundtrack, featuring artists like Virus and Nino Bravo, further immerses the audience in the film's unique atmosphere.

While "El Jockey" may challenge viewers with its non-linear storytelling and abstract themes, it stands as a testament to Ortega's distinctive cinematic vision. The film invites audiences to reflect on the nature of identity, redemption, and the perpetual quest for self-discovery.

In summary, "El Jockey" is a daring and evocative piece of Argentine cinema that captivates with its originality and emotional depth. It's a journey that, while unconventional, offers a rewarding experience for those willing to embrace its artistic boldness.

Remo Manfredini (Nahuel Pérez Biscayart) is a talented horse rider past his prime who struggles with addiction and has to win races for his employer, Sirena (Daniel Giménez Cacho), a gangster determined to get Remo sober so he can win again.

Directed by Luis Ortega and co-written with Fabian Casas and Rodolfo Palacios, El jockey is a surreal and absurdist film that could be divided into two parts, the first one where we are in the realm of the real and the second one where surreality takes over and every sense and logic is left behind.

There is a constant search for peculiarities that sometimes can border on kitsch. For instance, people that strike the eye for their appearance, doppelgangers, close-ups of horses' privates that remind us of Walerian Borowczyk, a character always carrying a baby, people dancing at random. Elements that aim at furthering the absurdist ethos of Ortega's feature.

What ails the movie is that behind all the conceptuality and surreal elements, there is never a purpose other than to enhance its whimsical nature. One could draw symmetries with "Orlando" by Virginia Woolf or with "La mala educación" by Pedro Almodóvar, where its protagonists change gender, but they are like loose structures trying to find meaning in a shapeless figure instead of a cohesive whole with meaning. Even Luis Ortega acknowledged in an interview with Urbana Play to not understand his own movie.

What the movie also shares in terms of Almodóvarian elements is a rich color palette, and this has to be one of the strongest aspects, along with the music, that render many sequences like music videos where time is still by reason of how good image and sound go together. Other than that, there is not much to see in El jockey.

Remo is a former star in the horse racing circuit, now struggling with numerous addictions including frequent cocktails of horse drugs and whisky. His mobster boss, Sirena, only has so much patience with Remo drinking from the River Oblivion. When Sirena buys a Japanese racehorse for a million dollars, he bets hard on Remo and insists that he get his act together. Sirena has doubts about Remo's commitment to excellence. "Introspective is not working," he says "we have to go back to violence."

Kill the Jockey is a fun, offbeat, and sexy thriller with an improvised dance sequence that is stirring and emblematic of the entire film's themes of rebirth and letting go. I loved the exhilarating lounge music. Director Luis Ortega was gregarious and jazzed at this North American premiere screening at the Toronto International Film Festival. "Don't hang onto anything," he said. "If you feel lost that's fine, and this is what the film is about." Ortega tried hard in the film to connect with the vibe of Buenos Aires. Interesting walks in the city helped him succeed in this. "You meet people, see things, and risk getting stabbed," he said "but these are strolls you have to take."