They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? (1969, USA)

People talk about how bankrupt our culture has become, that these days entertainment panders to the lowest common denominator. They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? gives the lie to this idea – it’s always been this way. It’s one of the most brutal films I’ve seen, up there with Day of the Locust for the most nihilistic vision of Depression-era Los Angeles, though Horses casts a wider net, condemning not just the movie industry and the fame machine, but our lust for spectacle.

Horses takes place almost entirely in one location – a Santa Monica dancehall where over one hundred couples take part in a dance marathon for the grand prize of $1,500. The rules are basic – don’t stop moving, ten minute breaks every few hours, and meals on your feet. And when things get boring for the audience, the contest runners (including Gig Young in an Academy Award-winning performance as the marathon’s MC) have a few tricks up their sleeves. One of these tricks, coming about forty-five minutes into the run time, was the point when I realized that Horses was going to be darker than I’d expected. A lot darker. Exposing how disgusting people can be in search of entertainment and money, the film reaches a fever pitch of hysteria as the contestants become increasingly desperate. Like the dance marathon itself, Horses isn’t necessarily pleasant to watch (though the acting is generally top-notch, and the cinematography and editing are terrific), but it’s hard to turn away from.