Written by Samuel Niles
There are two moments towards the beginning of Hans Petter Moland’s Out Stealing Horses that establish the foundation of both the film’s themes and the way it will go about exploring them formally. Both feature the 67-year-old iteration of our protagonist, Trond (Stellan Skarsgård).
The first is Trond looking at a dying plant in a grim, miserable winter. The first shot includes both the plant and Trond in frame. This is then followed by a reverse shot. This reverse shot is not of the same time, but of the plant in summer, very much alive. The film then cuts back to the initial shot, with Trond then walking out of frame.
The second moment features Trond narrating his day-to-day life. He speaks of things like getting drunk alone and how he intends to stick to this and other isolating, unhealthy habits. But just as he’s about to sleep, narration completed, he hears a man calling someone else’s name in the middle of the night. Having been so accustomed to Trond and his perspective, hearing an unexpected sound from the outside world is discomforting not just to Trond as he’s trying to sleep, but to the viewer.
Both moments express the film’s interest in perspective and both the vastness and limitations that come with it. Memories interspersed throughout the film emphasize how recollections are never simple or solely focused on the time you think you’re reflecting on. One such moment shows a younger Trond (Jon Ranes) during a summer he spent working with his father falling off of a horse. That moment is then interrupted by another memory at a different time of him falling off a horse.
It’s a simple comparison, but it leads into a horrifying scene that speaks to Trond’s limited understanding of the world around him. He wasn’t riding horses alone; he was doing so with his friend Jon (Sjur Vatne Brean), who he notices seems “off” that day but doesn’t pay it much mind at first. It isn’t until the clearly unwell Jon crushes a nestful of bird eggs with his bare hands that the extent of Jon’s “off”ness becomes apparent. We eventually do learn why Jon was off, as he had just experienced a horrific family tragedy. But we only learn this when Trond learns it, reiterating that we’re only seeing things from his fragmentary perspective.
But it also does something else. It adds context to the previously mentioned moment when Trond looks at the dead plant in winter. In it, Trond is reflecting on a beautiful thing and then he walks away from it. In essence, he walks comfortably into not-so-beautiful habits. By extension, with Jon’s horrific moment, we learn that Trond walks away from beauty because, for him, even amongst beauty, there is horror.
Aesthetically, that summer he spends with his father is idyllic. The forest is vast, the river is gorgeous, and even the rain feels reminiscent of Eden. Trond also works hard with his father and friends, but with ample time for play. However, amidst the beautiful views, hard work, and fun times are underlying issues, ranging from loss to jealousy to simple selfishness. Most important, though, is the fact that each of these issues isn’t simply interspersed among good things, but is directly correlated to good things.
Trond’s father seems to be perfect, and yet there’s an inescapable feeling that there’s something underneath all of the seemingly proper lessons he instills in his son. In one telling moment, Trond’s father whispers something “kind” and paternalistic to Trond while harshly grasping the boy’s hair. Throughout, Trond directly expresses his understanding that something is going on with his father, and these unsettling concerns ultimately undo whatever goodness his father wants to instill. Whether what lies underneath these reasons is good, bad, heroic or cowardly is a point of dramatic tension throughout. And as we see by Trond later in life, even if his father is a true hero trying to teach his son to be a virtuous man, he ultimately turns Trond into a man who has come to fear the beautiful.
However, ultimately, Trond seems to be open to the idea of walking back to them, learning to remove himself from isolation, even reuniting with his daughter. And so, while Out Stealing Horses may, at least in part, leave you cautious, untrusting, and heartbroken in its immediate aftermath, it will also hopefully leave you questioning those negative feelings and trusting that beyond these pessimistic internal obstacles lies an external world. One filled with beauty, friendship, and the light of summer—no matter how cold its winters may be.
