Experience the Unconventional Brilliance of Herzog's Vision

The Unifying Performance of the Mara Sisters

Kate and Rooney Mara deliver an exceptionally synchronized and virtuosic performance in this film. They embody two sisters who communicate and react with uncanny unity, presenting themselves less as distinct individuals and more as a single, multi-layered persona. This unprecedented dual portrayal is not merely a feat of casting and acting; it serves as a profound medium for exploring themes of human isolation, societal pressures on outsiders, and the very essence of familial bonds. The film subtly questions whether two individuals can truly share a single soul, echoing the intimacy of sharing everyday moments.

Herzog's Signature Eccentricities and Narrative Flourishes

True to Werner Herzog's unique filmmaking style, 'Bucking Fastard' is imbued with a fundamental chaos, reflecting his distinctive artistic vision. Beyond the already intriguing premise of the intertwined sisters, the film incorporates surreal dream sequences featuring agitated birds, seemingly unrelated asides about cynical hunters and foxes, and elaborate tangents concerning the genetic makeup of cave salamanders. Accompanied by Ernst Reijseger's diverse score, which seamlessly blends folk melodies, classical cello, and contemplative piano, the narrative takes on a fairytale quality interspersed with moments of almost cartoonish absurdity. The film also delves into pseudo-mythological reflections on devotion and enigmatic folklore from the Orkney Islands, all woven into a story that progressively distances itself from any conventional reality.

The Inspiration Behind the Holbrooke Sisters

Herzog's screenplay draws inspiration, in part, from his encounter with Freda and Greta Chaplin, twin sisters who gained minor notoriety in the U.K. during the 1980s due to their distinctive speech patterns and anti-social behaviors. Transported to a reimagined, fantastical version of Ireland, they become Jeanie (Kate Mara) and Joanie (Rooney Mara), the Holbrooke sisters. The narrative commences with the sisters appearing in court, facing a restraining order. The judge, played by Simon Delaney, making an apparent legal precedent in Irish law, permits both sisters to testify simultaneously, offering the audience their first glimpse into the Maras' extraordinary ability to mirror and match each other's actions and words.

A Tale of Unrequited Love and Whimsical Vengeance

The court case has been initiated by their neighbor, Mr. Mulroney, whom the Holbrooke sisters, acting as one entity, believe themselves to be profoundly and eternally in love with. The sisters are depicted as simultaneously childlike and intensely passionate. Mulroney, portrayed by Orlando Bloom, has indeed been enjoying their romantic attentions, exhibiting the smugness of a man involved in a regular romantic encounter with two alluring, if unconventional, sisters. Bloom effectively embodies the role of a charming but slightly faded heartbreaker, though his Irish accent occasionally falters. Mulroney recently ended his relationship with the sisters to marry someone else, prompting several imaginative acts of retaliation from them. During one such act of playful mischief, where they attempt to burn a letterbox to prevent Mulroney from sending love letters to his new wife, they are observed by another neighbor, the benevolent Mr. Westmoreland (John Kavanagh).

The Sisters' Journey to a Sanctuary in the City

Instead of being dismayed by their antics, Mr. Westmoreland is one of many (mostly male) characters whose protective instincts are awakened by these peculiar figures. Dressed in identical ankle-length chambray dresses, shapeless cardigans, and embroidered handbags slung over opposing arms—allowing them to walk perfectly in step—the sisters present a striking image. (Costume designer Maeve Paterson deserves credit for crafting their quaint, almost 'Tradwife' aesthetic, which eventually becomes a distinct visual signature). Westmoreland provides them refuge in a turreted room in the city, an unrecognizably charming version of Dublin imagined by Herzog rather than an authentic portrayal. Here, they receive visits from the lonely widower and their social worker, Timothy (a brief yet tender performance by Domhnall Gleeson).

Escaping Reality: The Siren Call of the Countryside

Other men in their vicinity, both on the street and in their workplaces, alternately desire and observe the sisters. A passerby even persuades them to take a selfie for his social media, a startling moment that reminds the audience the story is set in the present day, despite the prevalence of old-fashioned letterboxes and headscarves, and the absence of televisions. Soon after, their Aunt Louise invites them to return to the countryside, a place where, for all practical purposes, time seems to have regressed. There, they can engage in farming, wander freely, and spend their evenings crocheting by the fireside. Dominating this Sligo farmstead is the magnificent, cave-riddled Keshcorran Hill, where the sisters, along with cinematographer Peter Zeitlinger's evocative and magical photography, ultimately discover their true purpose.

Herzog's Outlandish Narrative Choices and Missed Opportunities

It feels almost sacrilegious to wish for a Werner Herzog film to be less outlandish. While 'Bucking Fastard' offers the Maras' remarkably synchronized performances—a compelling draw in itself—the film becomes entangled in such a dense web of mythology and mystery that the unique duality of the sisters ultimately feels somewhat diminished. Perhaps this stems from a sense of affection; Herzog's filmography is replete with misfits, eccentrics, and outcasts, yet rarely has he treated them with such gentle tenderness and so little incisive psychological exploration into their motivations.

The Disappearance of Coherence Amidst Dreams and Caves

It is regrettable that the fantastical, elaborate episodes the sisters find themselves embroiled in never quite match the emotional depth or thrill of simpler moments. These include scenes where four hands gracefully pour tea from a single pot, two hands compose a letter with differing handwriting, or the pair use each other as mirrors to perfectly knot their matching headscarves. Instead of delving deeper into their intricate psychology, Herzog becomes consumed by the sisters' yearning for an escape to a "better world than this one," a longing for "Arcadia or Atlantis or Orkney." The fact that they eventually end up in a Slovenian rock formation filled with stalactites and chandeliers becomes almost irrelevant to a story whose coherence has long since dissolved into the cavernous depths and forgotten dreams—now reawakened—of Werner Herzog's eclectic imagination.