ScreenFish

where faith and film are intertwined

horseracing

Jockey – Riding into the sunset

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“These horses will run till they drop. You have to tell a horse it’s time to stop.”

Many people want to pass on a legacy. It is more than just wanting to give something of value to a future generation. It can be a validation of one’s life. It can be something that lives on after us. Jockey, from director and co-writer Clint Bentley, centers on just what that can mean—for the giver and the receiver.

Jackson Silva (Clifton Collins, Jr.) has spent his life riding. Now his aging body is not as up to the task as it used to be. He’s hoping to get one more season in. When Ruth Wilkes (Molly Parker), the trainer he’s been close to through his career, finds a special horse, it may be their ticket to a new level. For Jackson, it would be the capstone on his career. But is he up to bringing the horse along?

Meanwhile, a young jockey, Gabriel Boullait (Moises Arias) seems to be paying a lot of attention to Jackson. When they speak, Gabriel claims to be Jackson’s son. Jackson dismisses the idea. But after a while, the thought grows on him, and he takes Gabriel under his wing to help him develop as a jockey. I’m often a sucker for father/son stories. This one has an interesting twist that comes into play. What is this relationship, really? Is it really a father/son dynamic? From whose perspective?

Bentley grew up “behind the barns” of the racing circuit. His father was a jockey and then a trainer. He wanted to capture the reality of that world. To do so, he uses some non-professional actors—real people from that world. Some of the interesting scenes include when these jockeys relate the litanies of their injuries, or briefly seeing a local pastor leading them in prayer to start the day.

Jackson is a man who is facing his mortality from the perspective of being a jockey. That is who he is. When the day comes that he will no longer be able to ride, what will become of him? We see in Jackson and the other jockeys that it is not the injuries or aging that kill their careers, it is fear. Once fear takes hold, they cannot ride as well ever again.

As his symptoms worsen (and we learn there is more here than just an aging body), can he manage that one last big ride to secure his legacy? Or is his legacy something bigger than winning a race?

The film has many scenes shot at sunrise and at sunset. That sets the tone of what this story is telling us. The sun is setting on Jackson’s career, but it may be the dawn for Gabriel. The passage from dusk to dawn may be Jackson’s real legacy.

Jockey is showing in select theaters

Photos courtesy of Sony Picture Classics.

1on1 with Clint Bentley (Jockey)

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I recently had the chance to talk via Zoom with Clint Bentley, the director and co-writer of Jockey. The film is the story of an aging jockey coming to the end of his career. He discovers one of the new young jockeys claims to be his son. The film won an Audience Award at AFI Fest, and has been nominated for two Film Independent Spirit Awards.

I saw this at AFI Fest where you said your father was a jockey and you were raised in this world behind the barns. What was that like and how did it shape your view of the world?

You know, it didn’t feel weird at the time. We grew up in Florida, but we lived all over the place following my dad around the circuit to the point where my sister was born in Oklahoma City, just because that’s where we happened to be when she was born.

It’s such an interesting world, and such a lovely world. But I think in terms of shaping my worldview, it was seeing there’s a lot of people on the backside who all come from different places and all come from different backgrounds. A lot of them are wounded in different ways emotionally. But they create this family for each other and give each other what they need. And no matter how competitive they get in terms of winning, they all really want to take care of each other for the most part and I think that really shaped me going forward.

 You spoke of some of those people and you have several non-actors in the film. What was it like getting them to share their lives?

The first time actors in the movie are such interesting people in their own rights that it didn’t take much to get them to be interesting on camera. It really was just a process of winning their trust and letting them know what the intent of the movie was, and then working in such a way that it didn’t feel like it was taking advantage of them in any way or manipulating them, just letting them be themselves on camera. Once I was able to do that and earn their trust, the rest flowed out. I have to say huge props to Clifton Collin Jr. for being able to guide a lot of them through those scenes. None of them had been in front of a camera before.

As they recite their injuries, that really gives you an idea of what it’s like to live that life.

Yeah. There’s a line in the movie that’s a direct quote from having hung out with a jockey. He was only like 24 at the time. I asked him “Have you ever been hurt bad?”  And he just listed off his litany of injuries: “I’ve broken my ankle and I’ve broken both collarbones, my nose so many times. I’ve broken my arm. But no I’m lucky, I’ve never been hurt bad.” I was thinking “Holy shit!” That tells you enough about the world and the job right there.

Jackson Silva, the main character, is struggling with aging and a body beginning to deteriorate. That’s an issue we all face at some point. But that seem to be less an issue for riders than fear. Does that seem like a fair statement of what Jackson is going through?

That’s a good question and it’s a really astute reading of it. Because it’s something that jockeys… they talk about getting hurt and it’s just part of the job as like if you’re delivering mail, getting a flat tire on the way to work or on the route is just part of the job. For them that’s breaking a collarbone; it’s that mundane for them. It’s not a question that they talk about in terms of if but of when. But breaking a bone and getting back on a horse or getting knocked unconscious and getting back on a horse, those aren’t things that mess up their career. It’s really getting the Fear –capital F Fear. They know it inside. If they’re nervous up on a horse on their tiptoes running forty miles an hour down the track with ten other horses around them, they’re not going to do well in the race, and they’re also potentially going to get their friends hurt, or the horse hurt or themselves hurt. It really is the thing that it’s really hard to come back from that once you get it. It’s what every jockey… it’s their fear to get the Fear.

One of the things that I found very interesting in your film was the number of scenes that were at dawn or at sunset. Sunset seems especially appropriate of Jackson’s story. Can you comment about how you used that visual aspect in your storytelling.?

It really came from, first, limitations opening up opportunities. We had a small crew and just a very small light kit, so we were going to be using natural light to shoot the movie And then Adolpho Veloso, our brilliant cinematographer, really lit on this idea that the connection between the sunset and the sunrise season of Clifton’s character Jackson being at the sunset of his career, and Moises being at the sunrise of his career. We leaned into that. And something that I didn’t even notice at the time, until Adolpho pointed it out, was that the rhythms of the life of a jockey match that of what we put in the movie. They wake up before dawn and they get on horses to exercise them. They exercise them until it starts to get hot in the day, then they take a break. They go off and they work out, or they try to figure out how not to eat a meal. Then the races are over by the evening. It really follows that same rhythm that we portrayed in the movie. It’s also very beautiful at that time.

You have an interesting relationship with your filmmaking partner Greg Kwedar. What kind of dynamic does that bring to making a film like this when you both consider yourselves directors, producers, screenwriters?

Actually, it’s a real blessing to be able to work with Greg. We’ve been working together for about ten years. Yes, both of us are writer/director/producers. We switch off back and forth. We write together and one produces for the other to direct, then we switch back and forth. It’s really not only supporting your friend. I do go through that and being able to support who you know very well, and know them not as a artist, but as a person. But then also having that person over your shoulder when you’re shooting something who’s also a director. Directing is a very lonely job. To be able to look back at someone else and say “I think it’s good, but is it good?” And for them to be like, “No, it’s not good,” or “Yes,” is really and amazing thing to have. Also, we’re different as artists and as directors. That difference makes each of our projects better because you’ve got somebody working on it who has different sensibilities and different thoughts and brings different things to the project that you’d never think of.

What are the two of you working on for the future?

We’ve got a film of Greg’s that hopefully we’ll shoot in the new year that is more in the vein of our first film, Transpecos, kind of a thriller with something more on its mind. Then, I love the way Jockey feels. Just trying to make more movies that feel like that.

Sunday at AFI Fest 2021

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How strange that AFI Fest 2021 is already coming to an end. But perhaps next year the festival will be able to move back to a weeklong fully in person event. Still, it is important to thank the staff and volunteers for the work they did to make this such a wonderful—and safe—experience. And of course, I’m thankful that they grant me so much access to these wonderful films.

Do you remember going to movies full of viewers that becomes a common experience? We are reminded of that experience in Zhang Yimou’s One Second. Set in the Cultural Revolution, a man who has escaped from a labor camp is desperate to see a newsreel that has a brief onscreen appearance of his daughter. In the first town he’s in, the movie is finished, and the film is to be transported to the next town. But a girl steals one of the cans of film and the man chases her down to retrieve it, since the film won’t be shown if incomplete. The first part of the film is a humorous back and forth of the two of them taking the film from each other. When The film gets to the next town, one can (the one with the newsreel) has come loose and been dragged along the road. At first the projectionist cancels the movie, but the community is heartbroken. Soon they are all working together to save the damaged reel.

This is a story that reflects our love of cinema—even if it is Party propaganda. When the film eventually play, the audience sings along. This is more than just watching the moving shadows on a wall. This is an event that touches the whole community. There is certainly something to be said for watching this film in a theater with other people rather than sitting at home. It is also a story of family—not just the basic meaning of family, but also the family we can become with others.

Clint Bentley, director of Jockey, grew up in the world of horseracing. He hadn’t seen a film that accurately captures that world, so he made one. Jackson Silva is an aging jockey whose body is beginning to betray him. He hopes for one last great horse. Ruth, a trainer with whom he’s close, has a new horse that might be great for the two of them. But Gabriel, a young rookie jockey shows up, claiming to be Jackson’s son. At first, Jackson denies it could be true, but the idea warms on him, giving him a chance of a legacy beyond racing.

I’m something of a sucker for father/son stories. This one has an interesting twist in it. But it is also something of a meditation of mortality, as seen as the end of the life that Jackson has always known. The film is filled with scenes at sunset and sunrise (mostly sunsets) with beautiful skies. We understand that this is both a sunset and a dawn for Jackson and Gabriel. Jockey won the Audience Award for narrative films and opens in US theaters December 29.

Holy Emy, from director Araceli Lemos, is the story of two Filipina sisters in Greece whose mother was forced to return to the Philippines. Emy, the younger, has a special ability that her mother had. At times she cries blood. And she has the power to heal. Her sister Teresa tries to keep this hidden, so Emy won’t be taken advantage of. But a pseudo-mother who lives across the hall, has her eye on them. She knows that something is going on with Emy, and believes they have to baptize her to keep the devil at bay. Teresa is also dealing with a sudden pregnancy and a boyfriend who is more interested in what Emy can do than being a father.

This is a film that is filled with the color red—often blood. It also has a good deal of religious imagery and language. Yet, for all that religious feel, I never felt the film got to the serious religious questions that such a story raises. It seems to want a humanitarian basis for the use of such an ability, but it never seems to quite fit with what we are watching.

And we finish up with a few more shorts.

Johnson Cheng gives us Only the Moon Stands Still, a story of three generations of Chinese women in a failing dance ballroom. The ballroom may be closing, but for the youngest of the three the world may be opening up—if she’s willing to let her mother push her out of the nest. Only the Moon Stand Still won the Audience Award for short films. (22 minutes)

In Motorcyclist’s Happiness Won’t Fit into His Suit, Gabriel Herrera uses a motorcyclist to create a metaphorical reenactment of the hubris of colonialists. A bit too artsy for my taste. (10 minutes)

Sales per Hour, from Michelle Uranowitz and Daniel Jaffe, is set in a retail clothing boutique. The staff works at upselling through the day. But when they discover a sexual encounter in the dressing room, they face a dilemma about what they are willing to allow to keep sales moving.