Sarah (Alison Brie) is a young woman who doesn’t quite fit in – she does her best to be sociable, whether it with her co-worker Joan (Molly Shannon), her genial roommate (Debby Ryan), or any of the many people she encounters through her life, all of which see her as a well-meaning, but overly sensitive girl whose life revolves around her niche interests more than anything else. However, very few realize that beneath her sweet exterior is a broken person, someone who is recovering from intense trauma, which begins to manifest in a series of lucid dreams, in which Sarah encounters various people who intersect with her in real life – suddenly she realizes that it’s very possible that this isn’t just her mind playing tricks on her, but something far more sinister. The real world begins to intermingle with her dreams until she finally comes to the conclusion that she is not suffering from some condition that causes her to feel this way, but is rather the victim of some otherworldly experiment that is being carried out on humans, whether time and space are not linear, and where she is the folly of some malicious beings that relish in using these unsuspecting humans as their subjects. Sarah, knowing the truth, has to try and convince those around her that she isn’t crazy, and her erratic behaviour is not the result of her worsening mental state, but rather the product of some terrifying conspiracy, one that everyone she encounters considers to be merely the ramblings of a young woman with an over-active imagination, which could not be further from the truth, as proven by Sarah’s journey of discovery, which brings out some unsettling secrets.

For better or for worse, Horse Girl is an unforgettable film. Jeff Baena is a filmmaker who has been sorely misunderstood, mainly because despite making relatively decent films, he has always been restricted to relative obscurity, with his brand of offbeat independent comedy never quite making as much of an imprint in terms of defining him as a director we should be focusing on. Horse Girl is his foray into more dramatic territory, being a daring metaphysical drama with broad overtures of psychological horror, which sees the director wading through some familiar thematic territory, mainly in terms of films like Life After Beth and I Heart Huckabees, the complex existential comedy that he wrote with David O. Russell. The work he does in Horse Girl is certainly enough to finally define him as a major talent, and even when the film completely loses control and descends into narrative anarchy (whether or not this was a conscious choice or an unfortunate accident is up to the viewer to decide), Baena is able to reign it in enough to prove this film as being far more complex than the premise would suggest. It’s a deeply unsettling work about the human condition, told by a filmmaker that seems to be intent on creating something truly disconcerting, latching onto our innermost fears with a certain incredulity that somehow manages to be repurposed as nothing but outright sincerity. It’s not a film that should be judged based on its exterior appearance – once you have become embroiled in the deceptive charms of Horse Girl, you’ll be mesmerized by the dreamlike storytelling and the often disquieting nature of the narrative, where the boldness of the story complements the fascinating directorial choices employed to bring this incredibly unique story to life.

It was certainly an incredibly bold move to make a film like Horse Girl – there was so much that could’ve gone wrong with this film, especially when we look at the names attached to it, the unsuspecting viewer might be misled into believing this to be an outrageous comedy, when in actuality, its something much deeper and more sinister. Baena is exploring some of the same ideas he has before, only elevating them from quirky, idiosyncratic comedy that makes use of endearing and charming characters, and instead tackling them from a more serious perspective, where the comedy is almost entirely deprived from the film, with only a set of bleak metaphysical ruminations remaining, where the director launches us directly into the psychology of the fragile protagonist, who is only trying to make her way through a way that she has never quite belonged in. It is a film that can easily be misunderstood – it can’t even be called a comedy executed in the form of a drama, because then we lose both the incredibly powerful emotional core of the film, as well as dismissing the merits of Horse Girl as a distinct drama, where it seems to be paying homage to the identity-driven psychological thrillers of Ingmar Bergman and Robert Altman – the grand gesture of comparing this film to works by some of cinema’s most iconoclastic masters is not lost on me, but it does serve to underpin many of the qualities of this film that seem to be hearkening back to a previous era, where stories like this could be told without any impetus other than to be daring social experiments, which seems to be what everyone involved in this film were trying to do – whether or not they’re successful at doing so is up to the viewer.

Alison Brie has undergone so many distinct stages of her career – reliable supporting presence in various films and television shows, the memorable comic relief in projects like Community, and then eventually metamorphosising in a comedic force of nature with GLOW. We are presented with another layer to Brie’s endless talents in Horse Girl, where she takes on a more dramatic role and proves that she doesn’t need to rely on her quirky charms or endearing comedic persona to be a magnetic screen presence, with the actress leading this film by showing her prowess in playing a character that is more than just a bundle of quirks, but rather a complex, fully-formed individual, whose delicate mental state serves as the impetus for much of the tension underlying this film. It does take some time to acclimate to what Brie is doing here, as her character is inarguably a challenging one and not someone who the audience is going to immediately embrace. So much of the film is built from Sarah’s social discomfort – we first believe its because she’s just a lonely young woman who has never truly grown up until we realize that she has regressed into a void of depression and anxiety, where she finds it impossible to move out of her comfort zone unless she’s given the chance to do so in a way that she feels can heal her. Horse Girl is entirely Brie’s film, and not even scene-stealing work by the likes of Paul Reiser, comedy legend Molly Shannon or any of the memorable character actors woven through the film, can distract from this. Brie served as co-writer with Baena, so she isn’t only interpreting the role – she’s responsible for bringing it to life, and the unique energy she brings to the film is certainly going to set her up for a future of remarkable performances that won’t restrict her to the realm of comedy, showing her capable of much more depth.

Horse Girl is, above everything else, a fiercely powerful character study, with the film often going to some very dark narrative territory as a way of exploring the human condition, which it does through the guise of focusing on identity. Sarah is a complex character – she has her interests, but she’s far from a stereotype (the first act of the film seems to be inching towards some adorable romantic comedy that would see her lose all inhibitions and finally find love – how merciful that this film went the complete opposite direction), and the film puts in a lot of effort to construct her as being more than just her surface-level qualities that seem to define her. Baena and Brie construct a thoughtful observational drama that has the difficult task of approaching mental illness in a way that propels the storyline but isn’t exploitative or flippant, especially when it dismantles the notion that the main character is afflicted by some awful mental condition. The film peers into the life of its protagonist and unveils her many complexities, stripping away the quirks until all we are left with is a vulnerable young woman trying to make sense of her own existence, something that tends to encroach on the minds of anyone with even an iota of the self-awareness it takes to question what it means to be alive. The film does go to some absurd places in terms of the storyline – Horse Girl may be one of the most impressive examples of a complete tonal and narrative shift that absolutely no one saw coming – and occasionally tends to be somewhat murky in its intentions. However, if we look deeper, we find a deeply compelling story of breaking free from social confines, which makes this both a heartwrenchingly frustrating piece of experimental fiction and an effortlessly beautiful venture into the human mind, done with a kind of sensitivity and tact rarely seen when representing these kinds of stories.

By the time the third act of Horse Girl arrives, we are suitably confused – this is not a film that intends to make much sense. Whether this is a glowing merit or an unfortunate shortcoming depends on each individual viewer, with only the bare traces of the moral meaning of this film being left behind. The film descends into complex narrative anarchy, delivering one of the most twisted, subversive stories of identity made in years. It’s difficult to get a decent reading on this film, as it’s so endlessly off-the-wall, borrowing liberally from other attempts to decipher the complexities of human life through presenting us with a character that not only features many of the qualities of someone looking for answers to life’s most difficult questions but also suffers from an unfortunate affliction of having to see a different side of life, the kind that is far less welcoming to people like her. Made with the boundless sincerity of a director rapidly moving towards a major breakthrough, and lead by an astounding Alison Brie, Horse Girl is an unhinged expression of millennial ennui, carefully curated in such a way that it makes a statement without being overwrought or excessive in its message. A film that facilitates multiple viewings, and is doubtlessly going to enter into the canon of great psychological dramas that not only present us with compelling stories, but deeply meaningful representations of identity and the limitless potential to overcome any challenge, even when there are those around us that don’t heed the very simple call for help we all tend to make from time to time.