Guy Lodge Film Critic To be a jockey is to be both athlete and adjunct. While the horse gets the glory, its human partner is a literal hanger-on: ostensibly in control, but subject to animal impulses.
That paradox allows Remo Manfredini, the star rider at the center of “Kill the Jockey,” more scope for invisibility than most top-of-their-game sportsmen — though when an accident in a crucial race lands him in hospital, his very identity begins to disintegrate.
Restlessly switching lanes from frenzied farce to pulpy gangster movie to gender-confusion musing, Argentine director Luis Ortega’s alternately dark and daffy eighth feature is suitably untethered for a story concerned with the malleability of the self.
That comes at some cost to its impact, however: Awash with kooky gags and bolstered by the strange, soulful presence of leading man Nahuel Pérez Biscayart, it’s fun but flighty, liable to throw some viewers from the saddle.
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