At once a gorgeous, near-perfect film as well as a resolutely depressing story, The Ox is beautiful to look at, even as you keep pinching yourself, wondering if this tale of desperate acts and extreme consequences can become any more dismal than it already is. Director Nykvist — Ingmar Bergman’s longtime cinematographer — has based his debut on an actual event that occurred during the Swedish famine of the 1860s: with food unavailable and unable to pull up stakes and move his family to greener pastures, Helge (Skarsgärd) slaughters an ox belonging to his employer and thus, sets in motion a tragic domino effect that sends him to prison for life while his young wife is forced to take up with a local railway worker in an attempt to feed herself and her infant daughter. Grim, somber, morally resonant and unusually moving, Nykvist is a master of composition, with every detail seen and every moment sharp and clear — this is one film that lingers in the memory longer than you might expect.
This article appears in December 18 • 1992 (Cover).