When we are first introduced to main character Rosie Ming - voiced by Sandra Oh - the way in which her face is drawn sticks out; it is practically featureless, two small dashes for eyes on a white oval, we see her as a blank canvas. This aptly reflects Rosie's personality, an inquisitive - perhaps impressionable girl - still exploring what makes up her identity. This exploration of identity politics is a central theme as Rosie comes to learn more about her complicated cultural heritage when she is invited to a poetry festival in Iran, discovering more about the circumstances surrounding her upbringing.
Above all though, Window Horses - directed by Ann Marie Fleming - is a film that champions the universality of creative expression, focusing on the things that unite different cultures. During her time at the festival, Rosie encounters poetry from many countries, discovering that she doesn't need to understand Mandarin or Farsi to appreciate the emotion expressed in these poems. It is these moments that the film is most effective; the animation never ceases to find creative, visually arresting ways to articulate complex ideas. One particularly compelling sequence shows a performance from a Chinese poet. As he speaks, each noise he produces is represented by a white wave on a black background, travelling outwards until it reaches a member of the audience where it outlines their figure. This uncomplicated technique describes adeptly the effect of the poet's performance whilst captivating you on a visual level.
Artistically exciting animation is present throughout the film; as Rosie explores Iran, we see the country through her eyes, marvelling at its beguiling mystery. The muezzin's call to prayer is brought to life in extraordinary fashion in another example of an inventive visual representation of sound. However, the film does bring more than just thought-provoking animation, the script possesses a number of understated moments of comedic charm, backed up by strong voice work from the likes of Sandra Oh, Ellen Page and Don McKellar. McKellar's Dietmar - a brooding German poet with a droll turn of phrase - is particularly entertaining. One moment he is trying to inject some political commentary into Rosie's distinctly innocent poetry, the next he complains about his unhappiness, "I have angst!".
Unfortunately, these moments are infrequent. Occasionally, the film seems to lack direction, as we meander from descriptions of Iranian history to somewhat predictable encounters in Rosie's discovery of her family. A pensive mood is created which can interest on an intellectual level, but at times things get a bit too cerebral and we stray into the world of navel gazing. However, it should be noted that this film was not created to grip. In many ways, the contemplative atmosphere is central to the film's appeal, and when coupled with the stunning animation and a brisk running time, there is plenty to keep you engaged.
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