Directed by: Daniel Minahan
Distributed by: Sony Pictures Classics
Written by Anna Harrison
50/100
You would think that a movie about gambling on horse races—at least in part—would be exciting; likewise, it seems to follow that the title of “On Swift Horses,” based on the Shannon Pufahl novel, implies some speed in the delivery. But Daniel Minahan’s latest film prefers a languid pace, lingering on the slow details of supposed idyllic domesticity in 1950s America: pennies drop into a jar to save up for a suburban house, cigarette smoke wafts through the air, steaks are placed atop cheap ceramic plates for dinner with A1 sauce on the table. Muriel (Daisy Edgar-Jones) and her husband, Lee (Will Poulter), are not daring people; they want a place to call their own, a white picket fence, and a couple of kids.
At least, that’s what Lee wants. Muriel, on the other hand, wants to gamble, both on horses and her sexuality, chafing at the assigned role she’s been given, no matter how kind and understanding Lee—pulled together by some heavy lifting on Poulter’s part—may be. She’s a kindred spirit to Lee’s brother, Julius (Jacob Elordi), though he wears his bolder tendencies on his sleeve, exhibiting the kind of recklessness that Muriel can only dream of. Though the two only rarely share the screen, “On Swift Horses” follows them in parallel as they move through their lives, Muriel with Lee in southern California, Julius drifting through Las Vegas as a gigolo and casino worker.
They each have their own same-sex romance—Muriel with neighbor Sandra (Sasha Calle) and Julius with fellow casino grifter Henry (Diego Calva)—but “On Swift Horses” is never as transgressive as it aims to be. Much has been made of the sex scenes between Calva and Elordi, and while there is a lot of ass shown, there is no sensuality; it’s all compunctory, hampered by Elordi and Edgar-Jones’ generally uninspired performances. They aren’t bad, per se, but both fall short next to their scene partners (Elordi, paired opposite Calva, especially pales in comparison to the latter’s natural charm) and fall into the same patterns we’ve seen in other roles. Edgar-Jones is pretty and sad, Elordi is brooding and mumbling like he’s still playing Elvis (as he did in Sofia Coppola’s “Priscilla”).
Then again, maybe it’s the fault of Minahan and the script, penned by Bryce Kass, which meanders between Muriel and Julius and never sells the mysterious connection between the two. Nor do the two progress beyond archetypes: Muriel the prim and repressed housewife, Julius the tortured and messy addict (in fact, the only character who really rises above what’s on page is Lee, who could have easily been the villain but becomes sympathetic in Poulter’s hands). For a movie about—supposedly—breaking free and chasing your wildest dreams, it’s very tame. There are never truly any stakes, especially with Muriel, and the sweeping romances that transcend the boundaries of the time play it disappointingly safe.
Even the ending, featuring a horse that Julius wins in a bet, hints at magical realism that never appeared elsewhere in the movie yet might have been a welcome swing. The film is pretty to look at, sure, but often plods along without saying or doing much of anything, and given its subject matter, wouldn’t it be nice to have just a little more going on? At the very least, there should be more horses in the film. Then things might have been a bit more interesting.
“On Swift Horses” Trailer
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