A disastrous racing accident marks the end of a jockey's career, but perhaps also the return of his true self, in Luis Ortega's utterly eccentric comedy.

To be a jockey is to be both an athlete and a companion. While the horse gets the glory, his human partner is a literal tagalong: ostensibly in control but subject to animalistic impulses. That paradox allows Remo Manfredini, the star rider at the center of “Kill the Jockey,” more room for invisibility than most elite athletes — though when an accident in a crucial race lands him in the hospital, his identity begins to unravel. Restlessly shifting from madcap farce to pulpy gangster flick to gender-bending musings, Argentine director Luis Ortega’s alternately dark and madcap eighth feature is fittingly detached from a story about the malleability of the self. But that comes at the cost of its impact: the film is full of goofy jokes, and is bolstered by its strange, soulful lead, Nahuel Pérez Biscayart. It’s fun but also fleeting, and may unnerve some viewers.

Ortega has been making films steadily since his 2002 debut, “Black Box,” hit the festival circuit at age 21, though his last feature, the 2018 Cannes-selected, Pedro Almodóvar-produced thriller “El Angel,” raised his profile considerably. “Kill the Jockey,” which premiered in competition at Venice, continues that upward trajectory: The film is novel enough, lively enough and funny enough to turn the heads of arthouse buyers worldwide, with or without a jury prize. Even without Almodóvar’s direct involvement this time around, the influence of the Spaniard’s manic, sensually charged early work is clear, while the distinctive contribution of Aki Kaurismäki’s regular DP Timo Salminen is another stylistic signifier: There are shades of the Finnish veteran’s droll, expressionless absurdism here, albeit tempered with a touch of Latin melodrama.

A giddy, semi-surreal opening sequence sets the tone, as the camera casually pans between misfits and scoundrels in a seedy Buenos Aires bar, interrupted by the arrival of several riding-crop-wielding heavyweights. We eventually land on their target: Remo (Pérez Biscayart), who’s been drinking heavily during the day instead of preparing for his upcoming race. Dragged to the track by these Derby mafiosi, he refuses to sober up, sneaking in whiskey and horse tranquilizer; when the race starts, the exhausted jockey fails to get out of the starting blocks. This has lately become standard behavior for the former champion, whose spiraling alcoholism is beginning to jeopardize both his career and his relationship with glamorous fellow jockey Abril (Ursula Corberó), who is currently pregnant with his child.