‘On Swift Horses’: Toronto Review

Dir: Daniel Minahan. US. 2024. 117mins

On Swift Horses is a slow-burning, 1950s-set noir-western about transgressing boundaries. The film purposely throws its audience for a tonal loop within a world whose balance is upset when Julius (Jacob Elordi) returns from the Korean War to the Kansas home of his brother Lee (Will Poulter) and Lee’s fiance Muriel (a composed Daisy Edgar-Jones). While Lee dreams of a white picket fence and children, Julius and Muriel separately chase desires that are out of step in this conservative post-war milieu. 

An electrifying performance from Elordi in a flawed but intense critique of Americana

On Swift Horses is Daniel Minahan’s first feaure since 2001’s Series 7: The Contenders, although he has been a prolific television director and producer with the likes of House Of Cards, American Crime Story and Halston. Adapted by Bryce Kass from Shannon Pufahl’s same-titled novel, his return to the big screen is a  film driven by carnal appetites and a longing to break free of societal expectations. It features an electrifying performance from Elordi, along with detailed sets and stunning photography. After playing as a Special Presentation in Toronto, the film’s stacked cast and adult tone may well draw attention.

When Julius arrives at Muriel’s farmhouse, a quaint midwestern abode she inherited from her mother, it is Christmas Eve. The nippy air, however, doesn’t temper Julius and Muriel’s first meeting. When she looks out from her bedroom window, she sees a shirtless Julius below, sprawled over the hood of his pickup truck. “I’m Julius,” he says with a wink. “I know,” Muriel coyly responds.

Now that Julius is back, older brother Lee has dreams of buying a place in San Diego, California where he plans to live a stable life with Muriel. But Julius, a card shark and gambler, has different ambitions. As soon as he arrives, he departs again for Las Vegas, where he becomes a casino spy alongside fellow sultry gambler Henry (Diego Calva). 

Rough and tumble nights between Julius and Henry soon become loving mornings and, for the first time, Julius finally feels at peace as a gay man. DoP Luc Montpellier’s lens is soft and tender during these passionate moments. But Julius’ solemnity is disturbed by Henry’s desire to chase a seemingly unattainable American dream. Elordi is impressive here, recalling the spirit of Montgomery Clift with his guarded innocence and twitchy cynicism.

Muriel, on the other hand, pines to see Julius again. The pair share an epistolary relationship, whose strength depends on both Muriel’s sexual attraction to Julius and the fact that they’re extremely similar people. Muriel is bisexual, and feels out of place in in Lee’s idea of a nuclear family. Muriel dispels her sense of alienation by betting on horses, where she makes good money. She often lies to Lee, claiming to have sold her mother’s house to buy their new suburban sprawl, when in fact the loot is from her winnings. In the freshly established suburb, Muriel meets and begins a relationship with Sandra (Sasha Calle) — a Latinx woman trying to save her family home from being demolished in lieu of a new interstate. In scenes between Lee and Sandra, Edgar-Jones is delicate, subtly building the interior of a woman who is so defined by others she hasn’t begun to define herself.

Muriel and Julius cross many boundaries in their time away from each other, and both leave the midwest for the big city, each feeling ill-equipped away from their former rural setting. And, of course, there is also the sexual bond. Not only do both explore their sexuality, they also pass for straight when necessity arises — such as Muriel remaining married to Lee, or Julius coming onto Muriel to borrow some money. That puncturing of conservative values by a displaced generation often recalls Revolutionary Road and Carol and, given the film’s attentive recreation of a specific time, it proves quite devastating.

Great detail is put into recreating a swanky gay bar, a luscious racetrack and casinos. There is also a thoughtfulness for how these charged bodies look in space and shadow, instilling the film with a noir aesthetic. And while the film can slow to a crawl, it’s not without giving viewers deliberately calibrated performances and evocative photography that often recalls Gordon Park or Bruce Davison. With style, strong performances and emotive use of mis-en-scene, On Swift Horses is a flawed but intense critique of Americana.