As Bestas Rodrigo Sorogoyen (2027)

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.

Enter the Anta brothers: Xan (Luis Zahera) and Lorenzo (Diego Anido). These are the "beasts" of the title—crude, muscular, and deeply embedded in the land’s identity. Xan, the more volatile of the two, views Antoine’s refusal not as a political stance, but as a declaration of war. To Xan, Antoine is a foreign parasite stopping the village’s only chance at prosperity.

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. as bestas rodrigo sorogoyen

The "beasts" of the title are also literal. The film features graphic scenes of horse slaughter and livestock dismemberment, grounding the violence in the visceral reality of farm life. There is no stylized Tarantino blood here; there is only the sickening crunch of bone and the cold practicality of a bolt gun. Just when you think As Bestas is a simple "city vs. country" revenge thriller, Sorogoyen executes a brilliant tonal shift in the final forty minutes. After the central act of violence (which will not be spoiled here), the narrative focus moves from Antoine to his wife, Olga.

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. 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?

The film charts the escalating conflict from passive-aggressive glances at the local bar to vandalism, intimidation, and finally, an act of horrific, irreversible violence. Sorogoyen does not offer catharsis. He offers a tragedy. The title is a clever trap. Who are the beasts? Without their signature, the entire project collapses

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.