Jockey
So often, movies about horses and their jockeys are triumphant tales of the unbreakable bond that exists between an underdog rider and the gallant steed no one thought could win, and the obstacles one or both overcomes to become the champion no one believed they could be.
That’s all fine, but what about the rest of the story? What about the injuries, the boredom between races, the camaraderie that exists between the jockeys, who are essentially hired, expendable hands? What about the poverty, the loneliness, and the ever-encroaching fear that everything you’ve ever known can all be taken away with just one bad outing? I have no idea if the horse racing movies I grew up with (National Velvet, The Black Stallion, hell, even Hot to Trot) are accurate portrayals of an industry built on gambling and breeding, but I’d be willing to bet Clint Bentley’s Jockey is about as spot-on as it gets.
Shot mostly handheld and with natural “magic hour” lighting, Jockey might not break new ground from cinematic or storytelling perspectives, but its eye-opening look into the world of professional horse racing — most notably its risks and rewards — is something I’ve never seen presented with this much honesty before.
Like The Wrestler, Jockey is made with an unvarnished respect and admiration for the business and lifestyle it portrays — and it’s far from a glowing report. In one particularly remarkable scene, Bentley has a group of real jockeys sitting in a room regaling one another with stories about old injuries. The nonchalance with which these non-actors talk about broken bones, head injuries, and trauma is haunting, not to mention telling of an industry that allows such things to happen. Just like that, however, Bentley has demystified a world that is almost exclusively held up as a joyous neverland of come-from-behind victories and against-all-odds tenacity to show the real costs involved.
Leading this peek behind the curtain is Clifton Collins, Jr. as Jackson Silva, an aging, past-his-prime jockey coming to terms with the end of his career. With a tremendous combination of swagger, aplomb, and down-to-earth practicality, Collins elevates a familiar story to a level beyond what’s merely written on paper.
Where a lesser actor would have immediately veered into Oscar-bait, show-off mode, Collins keeps his performance grounded in reality and realism (with the help of the always great Molly Parker and a notably reserved Moisés Arias), enabling an emotional response to evolve organically rather than be forced through by sheer volume. And while it’s true you may see some of the twists and turns coming, you’ve never seen Collins in the saddle pulling the reins — but you probably should.
Grade: B. Rated R. Now playing at Grail Moviehouse
(Photo: Sony Pictures Classics)
