Set in rural, modern day (i.e., 1970) Afghanistan, The Horsemen is the story of Uraz (Sharif), an angry young man living in the shadow of his revered clan leader father, Tursen (Jack Palance, in old age makeup). Once a champion horseback rider in the dangerous sport of buzkashi (misspelled as bozkeshi in Columbia's packaging), Tursen sends his son to far off Kabul, to represent his community at a huge tournament. Uraz, riding a magnificently bred white stallion, nearly wins the violent match, but falls from his horse and breaks his leg.

Defeated, Uraz becomes consumed with anger, and begins a death wish-like journey along an ancient road through the treacherous Afghan mountains, accompanied by a servant, Mukhi (David de Keyser) to whom he bequeaths the valuable horse should he die along the way. And die he might, refusing conventional medical care for his broken leg, which soon becomes gangrenous. Joined by a beautiful but "untouchable" nomad woman, Zareh (Leigh Taylor-Young), the once loyal Mukhi begins plotting against his ill master.

The Horsemen uses its exoticism as a crutch to hide its not very well drawn characters. One never gets a handle on Sharif's bitter and petulant horseman, who seems to dislike everyone and everything around him. His relationship with his father is limited to angry stares and only comes to life in the last 20 minutes of the film, which suddenly springs to life with the kind of drama the entire film should have. The picture is all over the map, with an existential screenplay that grapples with the role of women in a Muslim society, the role wealthy men play in crimes committed by the poor and issues of guilt, concerns of growing old, etc. None of this comes together, unfortunately. And while the film admirably attempts to offer an inside look at a culture still generally unknown to American audiences, its lack of interesting characters – played by non-Afghanis – made this reviewer long instead for a documentary on the subject, or a fiction film made by and starring real Afghanis.

Afghanistan has never been a popular locale for screenwriters and location scouts. At least The Horsemen is sincere. It isn't the embarrassment Rambo III (1988) is with that film's now notorious dedication to the "gallant" Taliban. Indeed, one of the more interesting aspects of The Horsemen is how little Afghanistan seems to have changed between 1970 and 2003. For that matter, the timeless rural village Palance lords over could be 1570 as much as 1970. The filmmakers cleverly toss in a moment where the Afghanis eye a jet high in the sky (a M.I.G. fighter, perhaps?) to establish the contemporary setting, but the many shots of curbside barbers (prominently featured on the news after the fall of the Taliban), street entertainers and markets had me longing for a film about the real Afghanistan.

The most striking aspect of The Horsemen is its parade of extreme animal cruelty. Camels, birds, and rams are shown fighting to the death, with enthusiastic Afghanis waging over the matches like cock fights. The game of buzkashi offers yet more mayhem. It involves several dozen men on horseback trying to grab and carry a headless calf across a field. With men literally whipping one another for the chance to carry the calf, the carcass is nearly torn limb from limb, while the aggressive riding results in horses crashing painfully to the ground. Very little of this mayhem is staged. The animal fights are graphically real and during the buzkashi match, an obviously lifeless horse is dragged away by a tow truck. Incredibly, the film was rated "PG" by the MPAA. Those disturbed by such images may want to avoid The Horsemen.

The picture was directed by John Frankenheimer, at the beginning of a long, sad artistic decline fueled by bad luck and heavy drinking. The Horsemen still has flashes of Frankenheimer's enormous talent, however, especially during the buzkashi match, which is like a horseback version of the thrilling racing scenes in Grand Prix (1966). The Horsemen was shot by the great Claude Renoir (with an uncredited assist from James Wong Howe and Andre Domage) who uses long lenses for incredibly beautiful aerial shots of the Afghani landscapes, with their high cliffs, green lakes, and stunning sunsets.

The three leads give their all, but with dialogue like "Stop clinging to my caftan, bacha!" they also nearly cross the line into The Conqueror silliness. Saeed Jaffrey, Billy Fish in John Huston's The Man Who Would Be King turns up here in a suit and eye patch as a district chief, while Peter Jeffrey (The Abominable Dr. Phibes, Lipstick on Your Collar) appears atypically cast as a hearty Afghani gambler/showman.

Video & Audio

The Horsemen is presented in its original 2.35:1 'scope ratio, remastered in high definition, with an accommodation for widescreen TVs. The cinematography really shines in 16:9 format, and the print is generally fine, except for some dirt during the opening titles. The Dolby Digital mono sound is likewise acceptable. French and English subtitles are offered.

Extras

The only real extra is a 1.85:1 trailer, also in 16:9 format (rare for a Columbia trailer), which plays up the brutality of the buzkashi scenes, going so far as to quote Sports Illustrated. The trailer also makes the mistake of billing the show in "Super Panavision," the 65mm format. But the onscreen credits of the feature itself are clear -- The Horsemen was "filmed in [35mm anamorphic] Panavision."

Parting Thoughts

Columbia apparently had bigger plans for The Horsemen, but got cold feet as the roadshow market spiraled into oblivion during the early 1970s. Plans for a hard ticket release were shelved and, according to some sources, the studio radically re-edited the film. This may account for its herky-jerky telling and general lack of momentum. Though worth a look for its terrific cinematography and flashes of its director's genius, The Horsemen is mostly a disappointment.

Stuart Galbraith IV is a Los Angeles and Kyoto-based film historian whose work includes The Emperor and the Wolf—The Lives and Films of Akira Kurosawa and Toshiro Mifune. He is presently writing a new book on Japanese cinema for Taschen.