As Bestas Rodrigo Sorogoyen Direct

A lucrative deal is on the table. The villagers, struggling with depopulation and an aging demographic, stand to make millions by leasing their land for industrial wind turbines. But Antoine and Olga’s plot is a strategic bottleneck. Without their signature, the entire project collapses.

In the vast, windswept plains of Galicia, Spain, a different kind of horror movie is playing out. It doesn't feature jump scares, gothic castles, or supernatural entities. Instead, its terror is rooted in something far more primal: land, pride, and the thin, rusted wire of civilized discourse. Rodrigo Sorogoyen’s 2022 masterpiece, As Bestas (released internationally as The Beasts ), is a slow-burn thriller that burrows under your skin with the persistence of a wood tick.

Marina Foïs delivers a masterclass in transformation. Olga is initially the more timid of the couple—she speaks broken Spanish, she mediates, she pleads for peace. After tragedy strikes, she morphs into a cold, calculating avenger. She does not pick up a gun or a machete. Instead, she weaponizes bureaucracy, law, and language. as bestas rodrigo sorogoyen

Xan represents the rage of a forgotten class. He is not a fascist or a political extremist; he is a farmer who watches his neighbors move to the city while his land is valued only for its emptiness. When he destroys Antoine’s garden, he is attacking a symbol of privilege. The film’s genius is that while you recoil from his violence, you understand the despair that fuels it. While the setting is specifically Galician, the conflict is universal. From the Yellow Vests in France to the coal miners in Appalachia, the world is witnessing a violent clash between post-industrial localism and globalized, post-materialist values.

This article dissects the mechanics of As Bestas : its narrative engine, its thematic brutality, the extraordinary performances, and why the film serves as a chilling allegory for a fractured Europe. The premise is deceptively simple. An aging French couple, Antoine (Denis Ménochet) and Olga (Marina Foïs), have forsaken their homeland for a rustic life in a remote Galician village. They are environmental idealists; they rehab abandoned stone houses, plant organic crops, and live a quasi-off-grid existence. The locals view them with a mixture of suspicion and grudging tolerance—until the arrival of a wind energy company. A lucrative deal is on the table

As Bestas asks a brutal question: If someone is starving, how much moral authority does a well-fed person have to tell them they cannot eat?

Sorogoyen is a master of the long take. The film’s infamous ten-minute argument at the village bar plays out in a single, stifling wide shot. We are forced to watch Antoine’s humiliation in real-time, unable to look away as the community’s passive aggression curdles into direct threat. Later, a nighttime chase through a cornfield utilizes disorienting POV shots, turning the familiar rural landscape into a labyrinth. Without their signature, the entire project collapses

Yet, the film forces us to look at Antoine. Is his stubborn idealism a form of monstrosity? He claims to be defending the landscape, but he is willing to sacrifice the economic well-being of an entire village for his principles. He refuses to compromise, to negotiate, or to leave. In the context of the community, his sainthood looks like arrogance. Sorogoyen refuses to pick a side. The beasts are not the brothers; the beast is the situation itself—a zero-sum game where empathy dies. Rodrigo Sorogoyen, working with cinematographer Alex de Pablo, shoots Galicia as a character in its own right. Unlike the postcard-perfect green of travelogues, the Galicia of As Bestas is oppressive. The fog sits heavy like a wet blanket. The forests are tangled and impenetrable. At night, the darkness is absolute, swallowing headlights and footsteps.