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“The Wind Horse” is a story about the friendship that develops between a man in his sixties and a man in his thirties. It’s a road movie – seen from a sidecar – in which poetry and fantasy spring from a background of dull, everyday routine.
Tahar, once a blacksmith, leaves his son’s house in the little town of Salé, where he feels he has outlived his usefulness and become nothing but a burden and a nuisance. He wants to pay one last visit to the tomb of the woman he truly loved. She’s buried in Azemmour, where Tahar lived a full and active life before his retirement. In his mind, the journey is like a pilgrimage into his own past.
Driss, the younger man, leaves hospital without knowing whether he is cured or has little time left to live. He concentrates all his energy on a strange letter he has recently received, informing him that his mother wishes to see her children one last time. But Driss grew up with an older brother, convinced that his mother had died when he was barely three years old.
What brings Tahar and Driss together is the nature of their common quest: each has set his sights on a fantasy horizon, and prefers to keep yearning for it than actually facing up to reality.