What was Friedrich Nietzsche thinking about when he, after witnessing the flogging of a horse at Piazza Carlo Alberto, ran to protect it before he collapsed to the ground and remained in a mental asylum for the rest of his life?
This is the question one might ask after reading a biography of Nietzsche, or after watching the opening of “The Turin Horse,” which documents this story.
Released in 2011 and directed by renowned contemporary Hungarian director Béla Tarr, the film speaks directly to Nietzsche’s existentialism, crafting a narrative around the parable of Nietzsche’s horse. Ahead of its re-screening at Frida Cinema in Santa Ana, California, on Nov. 25 and 26, 2026, I thought it would be a great time to revisit the film.
The film’s plot is surprisingly straightforward: A coach driver, his daughter and their horse in the Great Hungarian Plain are forced to migrate because of extreme windstorms and living conditions. After spontaneous visits from their neighbor and a group of Romani travelers, they decide to leave their house. Yet, for some strange reason, they come back. The film ends with the horse dying and the daughter refusing to eat a raw potato to quench her starvation. A confusing plot, a tragic family and a hopeless future were my initial impressions after I finished the film.
What is the meaning of life, anyway, living so miserably, like a reverse tale of Genesis? In the bible, God creates the world in six days: light on the first day and water on the second. In the film, which also spans six days of the family’s lives, the water disappears on the fourth day and the light on the fifth. What will happen on the last day, unsurprisingly, is the reversal of life.
How do we counter death? Alternatively, how do we counter a sense of nihilism — the feeling one gets from eating only potatoes every day and living without any joy or faith, nor any higher power, because God has already abandoned them?
Nietzsche answers it with an idea he called the “Übermensch” (Superman), a being who could overcome such nihilism by leveraging their will to power, overcoming existential crises and discovering a meaningful life.
The coach driver, or the father, is the “Superman” in a sense, not only surviving but voluntarily embracing a repetitive, mundane life.
When a neighbor suddenly knocks on their door, telling the father that the villages around them have been ruined and lecturing on the world’s nihilistic nature, the father cuts him off, calling the tirade “rubbish.“
The father has the experiences to support this perspective. Yet, his miserable lifestyle only fuels his hope of overcoming his current suffering. If the one horse Nietzsche encounters represents endless suffering and the nihilistic nature of life, the father, as a coachman, should supposedly tame it. But was he successful?
A horse is dying in the barn and refuses to work. When a group of wandering Romani travelers comes asking for water, the father insults them and chases them away. He despises them for being spineless people who realize the inevitability of death and choose to move, beg and rely on other people just to survive a bit longer.
Yet, in my opinion, the Romani people may better represent Nietzsche’s idea of the “Superman” than the father. To become a “Superman,” you must be alive. The Romani people live longer in this apocalyptic world, at the cost of their pride and reputation.
The “Superman” Romani people are never spiritually alive, putting their agency at odds with others as they gamble for another day of survival. The brevity of life and inevitability of death seem to be the greatest causes of human suffering. Just like the father and the daughter try to move out yet strangely return, no one can escape the question of existence.
“Nietzsche cried for the dead horse because he may have realized that it represents humanity, incapable of escaping the torture of life. Yet, in “The Turin Horse,” the horse and the daughter, by refusing to eat anything, embrace their ephemeral existence with the stubborn dignity of life amidst certain death.”
Nietzsche cried for the dead horse because he may have realized that it represents humanity, incapable of escaping the torture of life. Yet, in “The Turin Horse,” the horse and the daughter, by refusing to eat anything, embrace their ephemeral existence with the stubborn dignity of life amidst certain death.
That may be the most revealing and enlightening piece of knowledge from this film: Human agency, despite all ingenuity, still leads to the ultimate decision of how to live and how to die.
Leslie Tong ’29 PO is currently obsessed with music by the London Suede (as one should be). She is also actively searching for more interesting films to watch, even though she might never have time.