The Horse Whisperer
More provocative than the racial lines drawn from the vastly different responses of the O.J. Simpson verdict, are the gender lines drawn from that of _The Horse Whisperer_. This is a chick flick extraordinaire. It's got women, horses, extraordinary scenery, a sappy soundtrack, and Robert Redford. Even more importantly, (and significantly) it lacks a single identifiable relatable male character.
Oh sure, there's Redford, but he's an icon, and unless you have a warped ego, you can't touch him. As strong an icon that Redford is, he is withered down to saying "Do this" and by his quiet demeanor and strong presence, and you _know_ it will get done. Then there's Sam Neill, who's underused, and who loses all credibility at the end. Lastly, there's Chris Cooper, who I really liked in _Lone Star_, who's reduced to saying "Yep" a lot.
For the women, you have Kristin Scott Thomas, in her first big role since _The English Patient_. Here she plays the Holly Hunter role: she's a workaholic mother who needs to be in control over every situation, who learns to break her city-bound roots and be taken in by nature (in more ways than one). For the girl, I forgot her name, she's also drawn with the same character traits of Natalie Portman, so much so that you'd swear that this girl had no personality traits of her own. She's smart, pouty, and "Hollywoodish average" which is equivalent to saying she's an Ivory teenage girl. And then there's Chris Cooper's wife, played by a slightly more plump Dianne Weist, who infers "Yep" a lot.
Why should I state the plot? You see it in the characters. Mystical cowboy, overworked midlife crisis city-mother, pouty depressed but blooming adolescent girl, the relatively good husband who wimps out, and the "Yep" family. And there's a horse, who's the best actor in the film. Except for a very well-executioned and haunting beginning, when the girl and her horse get into an accident that involves snow, a steep hill, and a skidding truck, the film then goes on auto-pilot for the rest of the time, which I wouldn't care so much about, except that the film clocks at about three hours.
But what else can I say, that wouldn't get usurped by the throngs of women who _will_ see this film? Take my advice. Since you will be taking your s.o. to this, you can bargain your way so that she would have to watch two 90-minute Jackie Chan flicks on video.
Nick Scale (1 to 10): 6.
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