Rather than horns, they look like tiny black catkins clinging to the grains on swaying stalks of rye. These little clusters — actually a fungus known as ergot — are a disease that affects the ovaries of their host plants, but can be made into an infusion that induces abortion in women. That kind of resonance, between the natural world and the female human experience, is very much at the heart of Jaione Camborda’s second film, “The Rye Horn,” which began its festival journey in Toronto and won top honors in San Sebastian.

But as symbiotically involved with nature as the film is, particularly in Portuguese master cinematographer Rui Poças’ earthen imagery, which is so tactile you can almost feel the wet gray sand of the Galician island setting under your toes, its somber narrative is comparatively undernourished. Atmospherics can only do so much to engage with a central character this wary and stoic.