EO Review: The Next Great Odyssey

EO follows the traveling donkey as he faces the horrors of humanity, presenting the audience with a powerful lens at which to reflect on themselves and the world they inhabit.

After wrapping the donkey movie with a bright red poster and a smiling EO innocently staring at the incoming viewer, one might expect to feel joy, glee, maybe even a newfound zest for life from a animal described as enduring “the wheel of fortune randomly turn[ing] his luck into disaster and his despair into unexpected bliss” yet “not even for a moment does he lose his innocence.” Based on the film’s synopsis on letterboxd, one would be forgiven for having that expectation. However, EO instead presents its audience with an odyssey more grandiose than Odysseus’ epic and average people more horrifying than the monsters he faced. In other words, EO is not A Dog’s Way Home, as his is one inhabited by the oppression seemingly inherent in humanity, resulting in a film far outside the realm of “family friendly,” and is all the more powerful for it.

EO’s opening shot is a declaration reminiscent of this fact. The film asserts itself as the opposite of whatever expectations the viewer may have with its motif of flashing red lights transforming EO’s world into an inescapable hell. This life becomes that much more of a struggle when EO is taken from his kind-hearted caretaker at the circus following a bankruptcy notice and animal rights activist protest. While one might think EO being free from a circus only moments before visualized as apocalyptic, the reality is anything but, and so begins the pattern of EO seemingly meeting fortune only to be assaulted by evil, at times literally. 

The ensuing voyage moves EO around modern Poland into various situations that reflect cornerstones of humanity. EO acts as the mascot for a sporting match, heroically pursues his briefly appearing owner, comes face to face with a young priest, roams a wind farm, travels with a cart of animals and so much more. However, these are all only a single side of the decisive black and red that make up EO’s world. That sporting match leads to a celebration interrupted by opposing thugs who beat the animal to near death. EO’s quest for his human, who never reappears, leads him into a gothic horror of a forest where he witnesses the murder of an innocent wolf by offscreen, voyeuristic hunters. The young priest not only has a gambling addiction, but indulges in incest. At the wind turbine a polluted bird falls from the sky into a pool of muck. Through these events, EO explores the pillars of humanity with a pessimistic lens: entertainment, connection, religion, environmentalism; all is on the chopping block for EO as he faces the good turned sour by humanity. Oh, and the cart EO carries? It is not one full of friendly singing partners in a quest for a hidden treasure, but one carrying those of the recently executed corpses of the animals EO was too trapped with. In this way, EO becomes a tool of oppression by the oppressors, a life exploited for the ending of others, and it is in this light the film’s narrative effortlessly delivers its painful and seering message: humanity is horrific. 

This bravery, this unabashed determinism to present the audience with what it needs to see carries throughout the film’s various cinematic elements. As previously mentioned, EO’s forest exploration turns deeply disturbing when dramatic fog rolls in, gravestones litter the corroded landscape, and green laser sights take aim from seemingly everywhere and nowhere at once. It is a presentational move that necessitates a shift in genre, which the film too masters. That very forest scene concludes with a slow push into an abyss of a tunnel, fading from black to an infinitely long hallway EO now treks through. The story and its execution are magical, fable-like in its presentation of both its hero and his journey that allows for inventive ways to deliver the bleak message that ensures engagement throughout. In other words, EO is unafraid to turn surreal for the sake of its story, which strengthens its themes and invites visual innovation, and does EO ever take up that offer.

If the opening shot is any indication, EO is a cinematic lightshow of ideas, literally and figuratively. Never have I seen the world and its inhabitants I know so well captured so alien, so horrifying in relation to reality, or at least our reality. Presenting the audience with an animal’s point of view on humanity is seemingly the only way that the film is able to convincingly deliver its message, that our reality is far more oppressive and violent than humans may ever perceive. 

EO’s style is simultaneously eclectic and patient, blending that same balancing act of genre into its visuals. Most important, this balance is executed fairly well and with intention. The flashing red lights and drone shots may seem off base for a film about a mere donkey, but in the midst of this mind altering, anxiety-inducing exploration of humanity, any other presentation would feel like restraint. The film visualizes EO’s feelings with experimentation abound, making his journey a consistent hook for the audience. The wide angle close ups and anamorphic lenses clearly demarcate EO's perspective, which is key when there are, at times, entire scenes without the titular donkey. Here is where some pacing problems rear their head, but are ultimately proven core to the film’s themes when realizing the added depth they provide their wide cast of human characters. Sweeping landscapes are juxtaposed with EO’s perspective through the bars of a trailer of that same freedom, the slow motion horses in a glowing field of green are contrasted with EO’s somber eyes captured in dizzying close up’s. While the shots tease style over substance, ultimately there is little to complain and a lot to praise about EO’s experimental visuals that bolsters its themes and manages to connect the audience to its silent character.

Which brings us to EO, the stoic, lonely, oppressed, animal lover who strives for freedom for all, and ultimately falls to humanity’s refusal for that dream to become reality. While EO obviously lacks the nuance of a human protagonist, the level of empathy the film builds for him is shockingly effective, and the depth at which we are able to understand the feelings of an average donkey is profound. Again, the only way for humans to view themselves is through the eyes of another, eyes captured so beautifully, so carefully that one would be remiss to say by the end of the film, we finally see humanity in the eyes of EO.

But, that statement would be antithetical to the film as a whole. One doesn’t see the humanity in EO precisely because he is not human, which, in this film, is synonymous with being a victim. Facing oppressor after oppressor, scumbag after delinquent, murderer after criminal, EO’s depiction of humanity is grim. Meaning, no, by the end of the film we do not see EO’s eyes in a wondrous new light filled with humanity, as that would presuppose humans are actually something worth aspiring to be.