Director Daniel Minahan has beautifully brought Shannon Pufahl’s 2019 novel to the big screen with “On Swift Horses.” The romantic drama premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival last September, before releasing in theaters on April 25.
“On Swift Horses” centers on Muriel (Daisy Edgar-Jones), a girl from rural Kansas who falls into the role of the 1950s housewife after begrudgingly accepting a marriage proposal from Lee (Will Poulter). The film’s other lead is Lee’s brother Julius (Jacob Elordi), who starts the story newly discharged from his service in the Korean War. When he ends up at Lee and Muriel’s doorstep, everything changes.
“On Swift Horses” is grounded by a gambling motif, which begins to manifest in literal forms. Muriel creates a whole other side to her life just by successfully betting on horses. In one day, she makes $12,000, allowing her to put a down payment on a brand new home with Lee without selling her mother’s house. Julius starts his arc in the gambling narrative by playing cards, and eventually his entire life revolves around it once he takes a job spotting cheats at a casino.
All of their gambling is done in secret, which echoes the gambles of love that they take by the end of the film. “On Swift Horses” addresses the struggle and bravery of exploring one’s queer identity in 1950s America, an era socially defined by its tendency towards conformity.
Muriel was never sure she wanted to marry Lee and did it mostly to move on from her roots in her Kansas childhood home. She confided in Julius that she was uncertain if she had ever been in love shortly before agreeing to marry Lee, but it becomes evident that this uncertainty was not what was holding her back.
After Muriel and Lee move to San Diego, Muriel’s world is turned upside down when she meets Sandra (Sasha Calle), the couple’s fiercely independent and headstrong neighbor who lives alone on her family’s farm. Their sudden connection is confusing to Muriel; the feelings she experiences towards Sandra seem impossible to her, but choosing to explore it is a gamble she is willing to take. The two slowly develop a secret romantic relationship — one they are forced to hide from both Lee and the rigid societal expectations of their world.
In contrast, Julius, who is immediately characterized as reckless and somewhat irresponsible, is immediately thrust into the gambling sphere. On his first night with Lee and Muriel, he convinces her to try playing cards instead of just solitaire. He quickly leaves them to go to Las Vegas, the gambling capital of America. Most importantly, he takes a gamble by jumping headfirst into a relationship with his coworker Henry (Diego Calva).
Henry gives Julius a taste of the highs of gambling outside of the casino. They spend their days off lounging around their motel room on two twin beds pushed together. Henry shows Julius how to dream big and the precise means of achieving those dreams as he himself plans to open a bar at Tijuana. However, when he gets in trouble at work, Henry quickly starts that dream all alone and leaves Julius heartbroken.
It is in this brief period that the story takes a slight downturn. A low point in the film lies in the seemingly forced romance brewed between Muriel and Julius. Their concurrent stories evolve well on their own, but their coming together is a strange addition to the narrative arc that each of them is on. This bid at romance between Muriel and Julius seems to be an attempt to capitalize on the immensely popular actors who portray the characters, rather than a natural romantic arc that draws the two together. Nonetheless, it is this coming together that causes them to realize what they truly want from life — and it’s not each other.
Julius’ story ends ambiguously, but altogether mostly satisfying. He is last seen riding off into the Nevada sunrise, presumably to Henry, although that remains unclear.
Muriel’s story ends more definitively with her all alone back at her childhood home. While the scene is touching, it seems to negate much of the development and exploration she did in the rest of the film. For her to return to Kansas, a considerably more socially isolating and rigid environment, is somewhat disappointing. Because she is depicted as curious, driven and intelligent throughout the rest of the film, her choice to retreat to her childhood home — away from all of the joys and new experiences she had in California — feels out of character.
Where “On Swift Horses” falls short in its story, it makes up in its visuals, exceptionally capturing the feeling of the 1950s period. The production and costume design are extremely evocative of the 1950s setting, making for an excellently immersive viewing experience. It is no surprise that Minahan — whose oeuvre includes the mid-century set dramas “Fellow Travelers,” “Halston” and “Hollywood” — has nailed the vintage aesthetic in this film.
Altogether, “On Swift Horses” is a visually stunning watch, but in the end, the big emotional moments fall flat. It explores queerness in a rather noncommittal manner, despite basing much of its marketing on the promise of queer storylines. Its leads are developed with equal consideration, but this development diverges at the end, giving the film a somewhat dissatisfying narrative ending.
Camille Robinson is an Arts & Entertainment Staff Writer. She can be reached at camilllr@uci.edu.
Edited by Drew Askeland