The Horse Boy

This is an excellent documentary with a message about the need for diversity in which an autistic boy with a love of animals is the main focus.

A young couple and their autistic four year old boy Rowan take a pilgrimage to a sacred lake at the heart of the great Mongolian Plain where tradition has it, shamans still practice ancient healing rituals that may help heal their son of his autism. Rowan seems keen enough, but are they barking up the wrong tree?

As we take the journey with them so we start to understand what the boy's parents are really up against. Who are they and why are they making such a public show of their autistic son? Do they have something important to say to justify their family adventure? The answer is yes.

Their energy, determination and openness throughout the whole film is spoken to a friendly and compassionate camera and having previously documented the plight of the Bushmen, Rowan's father is clearly going to be in his element. But is it just another documentary for him?

Rowan's father is clearly on familiar territory as a journalist having previously visited remote tribes and other remote parts of the world, but here he is completely unable to walk away from the subject matter like any other a job; here his hands are tied. Why are we doing it? How will it end? Are we crazy subjecting ourselves and our son to such(public) expectations? We share their doubt.

For me the wild landscape of the high Mongolian Plain captured perfectly the wilderness and inner vulnerability of dealing with autism in the modern world. From start to finish one wonders where will it end and marvels at how Rowan's parents cope. Amazing stamina but sustained by true love and compassion.

The films greatest strength is its vulnerability; for this is no easy fiction. A film which could so easily have fallen into the modern day pit of an obsession for awkward personal exposure resounds with love where personal revelation reaches far wider and may touch you as much as it did me.

Well paced and nicely edited this is a motion picture about autism that had to be made and has to be seen, that puts the vital worth back into autism as part of the greater diversity of our expansive human soul.

As one who was already pretty knowledgeable about autism and familiar with Mongolian shamanism, I found these pictures extremely interesting. I haven't seen anything else remotely like this, with its very real scenes of inconsolable tantrums, outrageous drug regimens, traveling with incontinence, frazzled parents, unexpected fondnesses, blue flowers, and frame drums. Sure there's some selective editing going on, maybe even bordering on impressing an overall narrative on a series of events that didn't really flow so linearly. And sure some of the magic is a little hard for our Enlightenment rationalism to just observe without trying to impose some evaluation or judgment. Who cares? In any case gobs of reality show through, and they're much closer to being there than anything else you've ever seen (unless maybe you've watched a whole lot of research footage taken through a one-way mirror). Besides, it's so refreshing to me to finally see a film about autism that does _not_ include a hand flapping scene.

I suspect some of the things in this film will seem pretty strange to most viewers, and others will only be grasped superficially; I can't say that for sure, because for me that viewing openness has already gone by and I can't get it back. I'm pretty sure though that enough will be familiar that viewers can retain their bearings - you needn't be concerned about being surreally swept away into some entirely different world.

In one scene, some offhand explanatory remarks are offered while mixing the daily drug cocktail. Those comments will probably seem innocuous or unremarkable to most. But if you've already got a laundry list of (mostly wildly speculative) possible autism treatments in your head, it becomes clear they're already trying pretty much all of them.

I know from other films that Mongolian scenery can be quite arresting. Some of the landscapes can be achingly beautiful, drawing you into a story all by themselves. But while the landscapes here are indeed striking, they're not drop-dead gorgeous. Maybe it's something about the hand-held camera format, or maybe it's some insufficiency of depth of focus, or maybe the resolution isn't quite high enough, or maybe the timing's too short, or... I'm not enough of a film-techno-freak to figure out why it is - I just know this film's less about the scenery than might be expected. .

The philosophy is pretty light: nobody hits you over the head with anything, but in the end there's no question what the parents think either. Personally I already bought into the same philosophy the film presents: given the reality of people with "different" brain structures, societies might be better served by integrating them and making them productive than by trying to divide the "sick" and the "well" by too bright a line. And there's a difference --unfortunately too often lost-- between "curing autism" and "no longer driving folks nuts" (either by mitigating a few problem behaviors or by re-framing reactions to them so they lose their potency).

To me, the part that best summarized the point of view was Dr. Temple Grandin reiterating her statement that if she could magically wave away her autism, she wouldn't. Although there's weirdness and uncomfortableness here, there's great value here too.

This is not a film about the wider significance, possible epidemic, worldwide incidence, or current medical handling of autism. What it is about is one family that was given some lemons and how they're making lemonade. The biggest message I got was "pay attention!" Not everybody can --or should-- take their child to Mongolia. But everybody can try hard to understand and react to their child just as they really are, and that's what makes all the difference.

please correct your information on this film, it's shot in Mongolia, not "Inner" Mongolia, a province of China. It's great that the Isaacson's can exploit their son's mental condition to make a movie, but spare us the New Age bull about shamanism. Both parents come across as so self-absorbed that it's no wonder that the kid has tantrums. I'm sure that the parents of children with mental disabilities must wonder how these unlikeable people get to perform for profit. Did Dr. Temple Grandin, Dr. Grinker and the other talking heads really know how silly this movie was going to be. Why did they lend their names and reputations to this?

it's slightly odd that i even feel the need to write this... it's about Mr 'rick James' review above.

I have nothing to do with anything or anyone in the film, or even autism. I guess I enjoyed the film, especially the Mongolian landscapes. What, on the other hand, struck me as I read that review was how simply deranged he sounded. Having serious personal issues is one thing, but not taming them and then going so far as to write such a pretentious review, wreaking of self-importance and instability like this one, is another thing. I guess I write this as I sometimes tire of fully grown 'normal' people, so clearly suffering from issues they choose to ignore, and who confuse their need to expiate personal venom with a 'review'. It sounds grotesque, and helps no one to understand anything about the film - more about the author's instabilities. In passing, I congratulate the filmmakers on a well made and touching near-zero budget film. We'd be so much poorer if we didn't have such people making these films.

I got tickets to the premiere at Sundance and must confess I wasn't that excited about going to this movie. I thought it was going to be pretty depressing.

It turns out that was pretty unfair. It's a great movie; you begin to really relate to the people and their struggles with their autistic son. The parents are absolutely saints; I have no idea how they coped for as long as they did. The backdrop of Mongolia is beautiful; and all the while, you're hoping for a miracle without letting those hopes get too far up.

Definitely worth seeing.