“A rather odd and messy film mixing screwball comedy with serious themes of self-realization and identity.”

Playing in Toronto’s Centrepiece section this year is Luis Ortega’s Kill the Jockey, which stars Nahuel Pérez Biscayart as Remo, a reckless Argentine horse jockey who experiences traumatic events and goes through significant self-reflection. Alongside him are Úrsula Corberó playing a strong and forceful female jockey, Abril; and Daniel Giménez Cacho as Sirena, a perplexing mob boss who makes his living off of horse racing. While the film was included in the Main Competition in Venice on top of playing in Toronto, it remains a rather odd and messy film mixing screwball comedy with serious themes of self-realization and identity.  

The film’s opening scene is set in a bar filled with bizarre and unusual characters. Two of Sirena’s men enter to find Remo drunk and knocked out. In the next act of the film Remo is further developed as a skilled horse jockey who often falls prey to his drug addictions. Further, he owes a duty to Sirena based on either a past relationship or on debts, and therefore he must continue racing for the man. A debt also forces Abril to ride for Sirena. Both characters seem to long for freedom, but also feel comfort with Sirena’s protection. At points it appears that Remo and Abril are in love with each other, but ultimately Sirena uses the relationship for other purposes.  

The plot sounds rather vague, and this is because it is poorly written and executed. The film is tonally incoherent and makes little sense, and the development is dull and befuddling. The goals of the characters are never fleshed out and the plot has gaps in logic. None of the characters in the film act like real human beings, and they make illogical choices. A major moment in the film comes when Remo receives a serious brain injury when his horse jumps off the race track. After that, nearly each directorial decision from Ortega becomes questionable, as the characters make decisions that never cohere.  

This isn’t to say the film is a failure. Its free-wheeling attitude to the plot and to character development reflects the film’s lively spirit. Hilarity often ensues in many scenes and there are even references to taboo subjects such as golden showers. This flippant attitude is also reflected in the mise-en-scene, most notable in two exceptional dance scenes which occur early in the film. The first, set to the song ‘Sin Disfraz’ by the Argentine synth pop-new wave group Virus, is sensual and compelling. The second dance is set in the jockey locker rooms and switches between the men’s and women’s room as a slew of jockeys comically and erotically gyrate to the music; the filming of this scene is near perfect. The choreography in both scenes and the cinematography by Timo Salminen elevate these sequences and the entire film.

Despite these great scenes, the film’s befuddling plot is coupled with backward portrayals of gay and trans characters. Bad cliches are strewn throughout the film, as well as race-based jokes which don’t quite land.  It’s important to say though that the representation alone offered up by Ortega is positive at face value. Not many directors will make such an outwardly queer film that gives gay and trans characters the spotlight, and Ortega has no fear in presenting their stories. Sometimes though, he borders on becoming trite and regressive in his approach simply due to the poor writing and plot machinations. Ultimately the film isn’t a complete failure, but remains tonally incoherent and baffling; however, for those two dance sequences and the cinematography alone, Kill the Jockey should be seen.