The main character of EO, directed by Jerzy Skolimowski—a filmmaker who returned to Poland in the 2000s after a long career abroad—is a Sardinian donkey. EO thus immediately
encourages comparison with Robert Bresson's Au Hasard Balthazar (1966). Skolimowski's film, however, is less a remake than a variation on a theme, reflecting Skolimowski's different preoccupations and the times in which the two films are set.
The eponymous EO once worked in a circus under the care of a young woman, Kasandra, before he was “liberated” by animal rights activists. The donkey is relocated to a sanctuary but escapes, likely in search of his old companion. We cannot know for certain: donkeys, even in their own language, seem less eager to express their feelings than other domesticated animals. They appear composed and stoic, which might explain the appeal for these two elderly directors. (Bresson was in his mid-sixties and Skolimowski in his mid-eighties when they chose donkeys as protagonists.) As Skolimowski has said in interviews, “Sardinian donkeys are the most beautiful breed. The eyes are larger, more expressive, especially with that melancholic look, accepting everything.”
The rest of the film follows EO's journeys and encounters with different animals and humans. The former include horses, cows, dogs, birds, wolves, foxes, fellow donkeys, and aquarium fish. Among the latter are football hooligans, vets, smugglers trading in horse and donkey meat, and a dysfunctional aristocratic family. We barely learn how these adventures affect EO: a cipher, EO merely travels on. In this respect EO is a road movie, but a very European one in that it depicts travel not by car. Some of EO's encounters take place in Poland, others elsewhere, likely Italy. Skolimowski points to the diminishing role of national borders in Europe and confirms his credentials as a transnational director.
Skolimowski not only shows us EO's journey but privileges the donkey's point of view. The cinematographers, Michał Dymek and Paweł Edelman, deserve the highest praise: the constant focus on the donkey's face, combined with many blurred and otherworldly images, imply that EO sees the world differently from humans. Some scenes might be daydreams. In one beautiful sequence, the camera floats above the countryside, surveying the hills, trees, and wind turbines. Is some higher power observing the world from above?
Such possible pantheism again likens EO to Au Hasard Balthazar, but other aspects highlight the differences between these two directors. Bresson's donkey has a human name, as if he must be anthropomorphized in order to be treated gently—which many of the film's characters fail to do. Balthazar is even given his name in a ritual baptism. EO's name meanwhile imitates the sound of the donkey's voice, unintelligible to humans. Skolimowski, a man of a different era, recognizes the dignity of animals as profoundly different from that of humans.
The narratives of the two films differ as much as their names. Bresson's begins with relative serenity: the style might be described as impassionate, despite covering many heart-breaking events. It concludes dramatically, with Balthazar suffering from a deadly gunshot wound. EO meanwhile begins like a surrealist dream, filled with emotions that the director seems unable to control. As the story progresses, however, the film cools and slows: Skolimowski opts for an anticlimactic close, as if to say: “This is life, you get used to it.” Skolimowski's humans lack either the monstrosity and sanctity of their predecessors from Au Hasard Balthazar—or maybe donkeys do not assess those they meet in such ways.
Another key co-creator of EO's success is the respected Polish composer Pawel Mykietyn, known both for original compositions and film scores, who previously collaborated with Skolimowski on the score for Essential Killing. His music on occasion seems to mimic the voices of animals; at other times it comes across as that of the cosmos or the god(s). These mysterious sounds too prove ultimately impossible to decipher, but Skolimowski convincingly shows that trying to do it, anyway, is its own noble pursuit.
