There's something so inherently faultless about Buck Brannaman.
Buck, the new documentary from Cindy Meehl, follows Brannaman on his nationwide tour as a horse whisperer, hosting four-day equine clinics popular for his empathetic attitude to horse training. In an industry riddled with violent taming techniques, Brannaman’s style is a breath of fresh air; boasting patience as his main training approach and backed by an intriguing philosophical mantra: the horse is an avatar to its owner’s soul. Buck finds itself mimicking its modest subject with its deliberate slow pace, but is nevertheless successful in creating a modern western, complete with an inspiring cowboy rising above a tortured past.
Buck introduces Brannaman as shy and introverted, who only fully exposes his charm and wit through the microphone. Proving that still water runs deep, the film reveals his dark childhood: living in a verbally and physically abusive household with his father, Brannaman and his brother finally escape the oppressive environment through adoption to a foster family. His critical attitude on violence translates to his animal handling, adapting it to his training style. Indeed, Brannaman’s appeal stems from his admirable ability to manifest a positive outcome from a less than ideal situation.
That said, perhaps the most engaging aspect about Buck is found in its final act, as Brannaman’s fusion of horse training and philosophy become apparent. The film becomes more specific, focusing on a wild horse that fails to be tamed, whose progressively violent attacks require euthanasia. Brannaman emphasizes how its owner’s personal issues are projected to the animal, disguised through the owner’s impatient and harsh handling of the horse. “Man failed the horse”, Brannaman laments, enough of a statement to linger through the credits.
Meehl might just be a first time documentary director, but it shows that she was supported by pedigree. Even if the film could have been a bit tighter, it has an engaging narrative arc that it successfully adheres to. Buck is conscious of its subject and exposes him in such a way that his ideology transcends the screen. The mission of Buck is clear: to allow Brannaman’s contagious goodness to reach a wide audience, emphasizing that people like him do not only belong in the realm of fiction. Indeed, Brannaman is a worthy documentary subject.
4 out of 5 stars
Reynald Castaneda