On Swift Horses struggles rounding up compelling drama to pair with its talented cast

by

The film adaptation by director Daniel Minahan, based on Shannon Pufahl’s novel “On Swift Horses,” is set in the 1950s. After being discharged from the Korean War, Julius (Jacob Elordi) moves into his brother Lee’s (Will Poulter) house in Kansas, where Lee lives with his wife Muriel (Daisy Edgar-Jones). However, the wandering spirit within Julius leads him to Las Vegas, while Muriel and Lee journey to California. Both destinations offer dreams of wealth and a improved life, but the persistent troubles that haunt their lives continue, even as the landscapes shift.

In the fiery passion of their rebellious romance, Julius – a casino bodyguard – finds himself drawn to colleague Henry (Diego Calva). Simultaneously, Muriel, yearning for freedom from Lee’s advances, finds comfort in an ardent liaison with neighbor Sandra (Sasha Calle). As they embrace their newfound love, Julius and Muriel discover a sense of completeness. However, the constraints of 1950s America force these relationships to remain hidden within the confines of a Vegas hotel or Sandra’s home. In this era, where LGBTQIA+ individuals risked losing their jobs due to their identity and faced widespread homophobia even among the most powerful figures, it is heartening to know that such prejudices are no longer the norm!

I dislike labeling any film as such, but “On Swift Horses” is undeniably dull. Minihan’s film fails to captivate as a passionate romance or an introspective exploration of repressed longing. Instead, it’s a bland production that employs uninspired visuals. A movie about individuals covertly living in the shadows of American society should be brimming with suspense and risk, yet it lacks both.

As a film enthusiast, I found that the movie “On Swift Horses” truly sparkles in its sprinkling of playful scenes. One particularly enjoyable moment is when Muriel knocks on Sandra’s door and finds a group of lesbians gathered inside, under the guise of a “book club.” Their dry wit (“oh yeah, we love to read”) brings a much-needed breath of fresh air to the narrative, breaking the cycle of brooding and longing. The sex scenes, while not particularly remarkable in their editing or framing, do offer a dash of energy. Intimate kisses on knees and cries of pleasure breathe life into the film, more so than many other sequences in “On Swift Horses.

In essence, Bryce Kass’ screenplay, aside from a few notable points, is rather uneventful. It’s unclear if this issue lies with Pufahl’s writing style, but the story On Swift Horses could have benefited from more diverse narrative elements. The character of Julius, in particular, is static and similar scenes involving him are challenging to differentiate. This is where Minihan’s visual style, unfortunately, falls short, hindering the film’s overall potential. Movies that portray LGBTQIA+ individuals and their silent yearnings have produced some of the most visually stunning films ever made. Scenes from movies like Carol and Portrait of a Lady on Fire could easily grace the walls of the Louvre.

Previously, Luca Guadagnino and cinematographer Sayombhu Mukdeeprom presented two films (Challengers and Queer) that featured men desiring other men, adorned with striking visual elements such as suggestive churros. On the other hand, Minihan and cinematographer Luc Montpellier tone down the colors in their film On Swift Horses, offering a subdued version of Las Vegas, devoid of usual glitz. The dialogue-centric scenes are presented through conventional medium shots and reverse shots, with few visual quirks to distinguish the realms of Julis and Muriel. This film’s cinematography lacks distinctiveness, which further underscores its script’s dullness. Neither the emotions nor the aesthetics are sufficiently fulfilled while watching On Swift Horses.

In a notable display, the play introduces us to a fresh batch of gifted actors, particularly Daisy Edgar-Jones who stands out. Her portrayal of Muriel is marked by constant, tense body language. Whether she’s behaving unconventionally by attending a horse race or a gay bar, her body remains close and her movements remain controlled. This reserved demeanor even carries over into everyday domestic scenes, where she seems to unconsciously shrink herself, even when Lee is not present. Edgar-Jones masterfully combines this impressive physical performance with the expression of raw, palpable emotional pain in her character’s eyes.

Initially, I was prepared to dismiss Elordi’s performance in “On Swift Horses.” However, as the story progressed, his acting began to resonate with me more. At first, he adopted a quasi-Elvis twang and a lazy demeanor that seemed detached. But as Elordi delved deeper into portraying Julius’ growing desperation and raw vulnerability in his interactions with Henry, I found myself appreciating his choices. Similar to Edgar-Jones, Elordi portrays deeply suppressed emotions, albeit in a more laidback manner. The fact that he remained consistent with his earlier, less emotional character only served to amplify the emotionally raw moments of Julius.

The powerful performances by the two leads (Calle and Poulter) are supported by equally competent acting from both. Poulter, in particular, shines at keeping viewers intrigued about whether Lee is malicious or not intentionally so. However, these performances can’t make up for a film that feels too chilly as a romantic melodrama and rigid as an artistic endeavor. There’s no shortage of dramas exploring closeted queers in mid-20th century America. Compared to other films in this genre, On Swift Horses fails to stand out significantly, and even on its own, it doesn’t fare exceptionally well. Fervent fans of Elordi and Edgar-Jones will find satisfaction, but others might only see untapped potential in On Swift Horses.

Read More

2025-04-21 16:15