‘On Swift Horses’ Review: A Star-Studded, Stultifying Drama
While On ‘Swift’ Horses boasts compelling performances from its star-studded cast, the film’s lack of identity makes it difficult for audiences to latch onto its story and thematic underpinnings.
There was much to look forward to in Daniel Minahan’s adaptation of Shannon Pufahl’s On Swift Horses, notably its cast of burgeoning actors, each having cemented themselves in recent memory as singular talents. After Jacob Elordi was able to surpass the listless Kissing Booth trilogy, he has recently carved himself as a unique star in the making in films such as Saltburn, and, most recently, Oh, Canada. In On Swift Horses, he seemingly takes the best of both worlds as Julius, the brother of Lee (Will Poulter), who is about to enlist in the Korean War, while Julius has returned from it and visits his family.
There seems to be some psychosexual tension between Julius, Lee, and his wife, Muriel (Daisy Edgar-Jones), which looks to be what the bulk of the movie will be about. However, Minahan cuts to three months after the opening scene, and sees Lee and Muriel in California, as they begin a new life in a yet-to-be-developed suburban area, while Julius takes a job at a Las Vegas casino. The two stories parallel each other, as Julius begins to grow affection towards his co-worker, Henry (Diego Calva), and Muriel also develops a secret romantic relationship with her neighbor Sandra (Sasha Calle). Muriel also begins to gamble on racehorses, making significant money that she hides from her husband.
In actuality, there’s a lot Muriel hides from Lee that he doesn’t know, starting with her secret smoking while he is away, but this romantic escapade seems much different than anything else she keeps quiet about. Meanwhile, Julius also keeps his relationship with Henry a secret, and the two narrative throughlines are supposed to mirror themselves until they intersect in a gut-punch of a final scene where both Muriel and Henry’s lives were profoundly impacted by Julius. Sadly, this dramatic underpinning never arrives, because the film itself is a stultifying bore.
The stark, artful cinematography by Luc Montpellier (a step above from the dreadful-looking Women Talking) is pretty much the only point of interest Minahan has in his sleeves. Evocative shadows, particularly in its final section, help solidify a great sense of intimacy much further than the tight close-ups employed during sex scenes. In America, the 1950s were a period of great economic and social growth, with many blue-collar workers adhering to the “American Way of Life” of building a home they are proud of while helping the American economy enter its “Golden Age.”
Lee is willing to follow that dream, while Muriel has some reservations. This could’ve been an interesting conflict to draw on the failed promise of the “American Dream” within a divided household, but Minahan doesn’t exactly know what he wants to discuss throughout his 117 minutes. Is it supposed to be a queer drama where the protagonists’ repressed feelings translates to carnal desires? Or should it explore how the American Dream is unattainable, for even the people who believe in it? The latter was (deftly) explored in Brady Corbet’s The Brutalist, and the former, while interesting, is treated in such a distant way that it quickly loses its dramatic potency.
The star-studded cast can only go so far if the material they’re given doesn’t give them any favors. Poulter is such a great screen presence and lights it up every time he appears in a movie, yet he struggles even more at making an impact than he (recently) did in Alex Scharfman’s Death of a Unicorn and Alex Garland and Ray Mendoza’s Warfare, both flimsy motion pictures where he stood out amongst the pack. In On Swift Horses, he’s given nothing of interest to do and has nothing to work with. He possesses little to no chemistry with Edgar-Jones, who fares a bit better than he, but not by much.
The only actor who truly does the lord’s work is Elordi, who, in recent years, has totally reinvented his style and become one of the most interesting up-and-coming stars working today. He possesses an indelible charm that immediately pops off the screen, and none of his gestures feel forced or mawkish. Even with a lackadaisical script, he still makes the most of his time on screen, and ultimately imbues his character with some amount of vulnerability that we ultimately feel keen to sympathize with him, no matter how distant Minahan’s direction feels.
It’s unfortunate that the parallel stories don’t seem to have much going for, because Minahan could’ve made something truly compelling if he had focused on a specific aspect of the storyline, whether the evisceration of the American Dream or the queer love stories. Sadly, the first thematic underpinning of the film is barely explored in favor of a love story that has little to no sexual tension or emotional weight. Both Calva and Calle, who recently proved themselves in Damien Chazelle’s Babylon and Andy Muschietti’s The Flash (Calle’s Supergirl was the only good part of that film), are pitifully wasted as they play two characters who act as no more than sexual objects for both Julius and Muriel.
This was probably not Minahan’s intention, nor was it defined this way in Pufahl’s book, but this is how they are depicted in the movie. The two characters have little to no agency or development, beyond how they’re used to satiate Julius and Muriel’s sexual desires. The complexity in their affair is gone, so is the friction between Muriel and Lee, which doesn’t really exist since Poulter is barely in the picture. As a result, On Swift Horses quickly loses interest and presents a movie that aims to explore numerous thematic stories of great importance, but ultimately conveys virtually nothing.
The only saving grace we have is its cast, all great actors who, despite being failed by a terrible script, do their best to make this film semi-watchable. In that regard, they’ve mostly succeeded, but Edgar-Jones, Poulter, and, most importantly, Elordi, are far too good to be in these kinds of chintzy movies anymore. They don’t need to have their resumés tainted by another flimsy work, though I suspect that, for Elordi, despite having improved significantly in the acting department, his worst-ever book-to-film adaptation may be just around the corner…