There is nothing quite as frustrating as the feeling of being forced into a life from which you cannot ever truly escape – not because of anything particularly negative or insidious, but rather that you have become a victim of the status quo, which isn’t always easy to overcome. In his novel On Swift Horses, Shannon Pufahl examines a quartet of characters that desperately try to escape their circumstances, but find themselves limited by the time and era in which they were unfortunately forced to live. The novel has been adapted by Daniel Minahan (making his sophomore feature, following Series 7: The Contenders, which was released nearly a quarter of a century ago), who does prove to be quite skillful, at least in terms of how he develops many of the key themes, adapting the novel into a decent, well-crafted work that evokes the classical melodramas of the 1960s, while never quite reaching the level of brilliance that we would expect from someone working with such intriguing subject matter. The film is set in the late 1950s, and primarily centres on Muriel and Lee, a relatively happy couple who have recently gotten married and are in pursuit of their new life, including buying their own home and starting a family. Their pleasant existence is disrupted with the arrival of Julius, Lee’s alluring and enigmatic younger brother, who has recently returned home after serving in the military during the Korean War, the mental and physical scars of which he desperately tries to conceal. He is struggling to assimilate back into society. Still, a chance encounter with Henry, a beguiling Mexican employee in a casino, causes Julius to question his own identity, as well as start to realise that his salvation is not going to come from elsewhere, but has its origin within them. Over the course of a few months, the narrative leaps between Muriel and Julius as they go about their own daily lives, facing their individual struggles with their sexuality as well as some of their vices (which includes a growing gambling addiction for the otherwise more level-headed young woman), proving that appearances certainly can be deceiving, and that we can never truly know who our neighbours are until we take the effort to get to know them as people. A simple period drama that achieves what it set out to do, being a relatively consistent exploration of a quartet of characters learning to overcome certain challenges in post-war America, On Swift Horses certainly has its merits, even if it can occasionally feel quite limited in both scope and perspective, leading to a mildly compelling but otherwise conventional affair.

One of the benefits of living in a time where we find the acceptance of identities that don’t quite meet the fundamental criteria of an ideal existence is that we can tell stories that reflect on the past, and how it was a far more difficult place to live in terms of self-expression and seeking out satisfaction of one’s innermost desires. The original novel, as well as this adaptation, are built around a group of characters dealing with their own inner turmoil as they desperately attempt to come to terms with their supposedly deviant identities – in the 1950s, the very notion of a housewife concealing a ferocious gambling addiction, or a war veteran secretly being a homosexual, were taboo, and certainly shielded from public consciousness, even though they very much existed, which we have seen come to light when looking back at the era and hearing testimonies (both firsthand and from those who knew people who were there) from that time. On Swift Horses is an interesting exploration of identity, and Minahan works closely with the original text to tell what is essentially quite a simple story of a group of people who have always resisted categorisation trying as hard as they can to fit into a society that would easily dismiss them from the social register (if not outright penalise them to the point where they become pariahs), suppressing their desires as far as they can, but ultimately becoming victims of their own desire to fit in, rather than living truthfully and with some degree of honesty, at least to themselves. The story is not overly complex, and Minahan does ensure that every narrative decision has a purpose. As far as thematic content goes, On Swift Horses is relatively intriguing, even if it isn’t introducing any particularly revolutionary ideas to the conversation. Desire, sexuality and the broken promise of the American Dream (this being yet another example of a work that aims to dismantle this concept as nothing more than an idealistic fantasy) all go into the construction of a well-crafted but otherwise very pedestrian drama that follows conventions but doesn’t necessarily build on them all that effectively, at least not in terms of saying anything we have not seen countless times before.

One quality that makes On Swift Horses at least somewhat notable is the presence of a quintet of extremely gifted actors, who are likely to represent the next generation of film performers. Each one of them has done exceptional work over the years and has made invaluable contributions to the medium, and it is therefore not a surprise that they were scouted to help bring this story to life on screen. The two focal points are Daisy Edgar-Jones as Muriel, a repressed housewife who not only falls into developing a gambling addiction, but also discovers her own complex relationship with identity upon meeting a young woman who sweeps her off her feet, and Jacob Elordi, whose ability to play into both an innate sense of gruff masculinity and deep sensitivity makes him a strong choice for the part of Julius, a man who is also beginining to question his sexuality. Both actors are wonderful, and while it’s not overly challenging work for either of them, they bring such nuance and delicacy to roles that could have been overblown in the hands of performers who did not know how to temper emotions appropriately. Edgar-Jones is mostly paired with Will Poulter, the most established in the cast, and someone who perfectly embodies the part of Lee, a man trying to be a good husband, but who ultimately begins to realise that he cannot have the ideal life that he always imagined, and the beguiling Sasha Calle, who is not in much of the film, but still leaves an impression. Elordi’s primary scene partner is Diego Calva, who takes a part that would have been one-dimensional under the care of many other actors, and who manages to be so deeply moving, turning Henry into a complex person who is more than just an object of desire. The cast does very well, and any problems that we have with On Swift Horses is not due to their work – there is only so much that they can do to hold our attention, and they’re all willing to take the time to develop these characters, more than perhaps the film actually deserved, considering so much of what makes these performances work are the effort put in by the actors to overcome a solid but unremarkable script and direction that doesn’t bring anything new to the conversation by any means. There is no individual standout, since the entire cast works as a single entity, coming together to tell this story with precision and deep compassion, the kind that warranted a more cohesive film to support their work.

While it would be wildly inappropriate to suggest that it is an inferior medium, it is clear that Minahan has been labouring on television for far too long, since On Swift Horses falters in many areas, but primarily among them is its inability to actually feel like a cinematic spectacle. Both visually and tonally, the film is not at all convincing, and proves that even strong material means very little when it isn’t supported by meaningful execution. What is important to note here is that neither Minahan nor Pufahl was alive when this film was set, so while they undoubtedly did the necessary due diligence as far as research went, their perspective is going to always be slightly limited, at least in comparison to those works which are adaptations of firsthand accounts of the era being depicted. Obviously, one doesn’t need to be a witness to a period to write about it, but when the overall impression that we get is that the story is more of a close approximation of the time, rather than one that strives for actual authenticity, it becomes quite difficult to accept some of its more questionable decisions. The shortcomings are quite clear, with the focus being too much on trying to capture the spirit of the period, rather than actually telling an original story. By this point, we shouldn’t have stories where the final message is that it was difficult to be queer in the 1950s (since that is common sense), but rather one that looks at the nuances of existing outside of the status quo at that particular time. On Swift Horses is very bland – the execution is not strong, with the overwhelming amount of subdued hues (which are essentially just a dozen shades of beige with an occasional burst of colour here and there), both visually and narratively, being the reason we begin to lose interest. It is also quite emotionless, despite the solid efforts by the actors to find the truth beneath these characters. The moments where we’d expect extraordinary meaning are mostly uninteresting, and the unconvincing narrative structure, which oscillates between the two perspectives, doesn’t do much to draw us in. However, its perhaps the lack of genuine passion that derails On Swift Horses, which desperately tries to be a grandiose love story, but instead feels extremely limited, never achieving anything particularly memorable and ultimately just becoming too much of a chore to get through, which is a problem for a film that is essentially citing itself as an extraordinary love story above anything else.

On Swift Horses is a film that adheres far too closely to conventions, and while this does mean it manages to avoid being too much of a tonal or conceptual misfire, it also prevents it from leaving any real impression. In terms of the actors – all of whom are very good – the film is not going to be anything more than a footnote in their promising careers, with the most cultural cache it will have likely being that it will be one of those films that we will look back at in a few decades and splendour in how it managed to assemble some of the brightest and most exquisite talents of their generation, before they actually came to define the industry. There are many areas in which the film could have been improved – it is not particularly elaborate as far as direction goes, but we can forgive it for choosing to take a more authentic, unfurnished approach (this was clearly not aiming to be the kind of lavish melodrama inspired by Douglas Sirk that readers of the novel may have expected), since this at least gives it an honesty that we can’t entirely criticise. However, it’s in its inability to actually do more with the premise that we find On Swift Horses faltering, never quite meeting even the most basic criteria, and instead working as a conventional period drama without actually underlining the precise reasons that it made certain decisions. It’s not a film that gives the viewer too much to admire, since it seems to be more focused on telling a specific story and not much else – the themes are only explored to the extent that the film allows them to be, the emotions are lacklustre and there is a decrease in nuance that ultimately begins to derail a film that needed far more work to be effective. It’s not a complete misfire, but rather a forgettable chore of a film that squanders its potential and only marginally succeeds as a character study and social analysis, making us yearn for a more in-depth, meaningful exploration of the era and its many intriguing qualities, which are done a bit of a disservice with this bland and mostly unconvincing drama.