Director Report Card: Chloe Zhao (2017)

2. The Rider

During the making of "Songs My Brothers Taught Me," Chloe Zhao would meet the Jandreau brothers. A trio of professional bull riders, she was immediately intrigued by their life stories. A lengthy chunk in the middle of that movie is actually devoted to bull riding, despite having little to do with the actual story. Inspiration struck and Brady Jandeau would become the focus of her next movie. The resulting project would be "The Rider." Released in 2017, the film would be met with critical acclaim and truly become Zhao's break-out feature. 

Brady comes from a family of cowboys. His whole life, the only thing he's ever wanted to be was a rodeo star. Recently, however, he suffered a traumatic brain injury during a show. He checks himself out of the hospital, pulling the staples out of his head on his own. He returns home, to meet his alcoholic father and autistic little sister. Brady aspires to return to the rodeo soon but soon discovers that his injury left him with life-long conditions. He struggles with this change in his life. 

"The Rider" operates similarly to "Songs My Brothers Taught Me." Both are essentially fusions of documentaries and scripted dramas. Most of the actors are playing thinly fictionalized versions of themselves. Jandreau really did suffer the injury he does in the film and has learned to live with the same conditions the character has. The actual footage of Brady being thrown from the horse and having his head crushed is seemingly shown in the film, via blurry cell phone footage. While "The Rider" combines facts and fiction in a similar way to "Songs My Brothers Taught Me," it does so in a far more polished manner. This film has far more momentum to its story. It is shot in a far more cinematic style. Essentially, the filmmaker applied the lessons of her first feature to her second.

However, some things remain prominent over the two movies. "The Rider" and "Songs My Brothers Taught Me" tell similar stories. Both are about young men, at pivotal moments in their lives, pulled between their responsibilities to their families and what they feel are their destinies. Brady loves his sister dearly, taking care of her. He struggles with his father but similarly feels responsible for him. At the same time, he feels drawn to riding. He's determined to, literally, get back up on that horse. Much like John Winters is pulled between staying with his sister and pursuing a life outside the reservation, "The Rider" is pulled between these two desires.

There's a big difference though, which might be why "The Rider" is a much more compelling film. Here, what Brady feels is his destiny can kill him. Throughout the movie, we meet Lane Scott, a real life friend of Brady Jandreau and a former bull rider who suffered a much more severe injury. Lane is permanently disabled, having lost the ability to speak or walk because of his injury. This acts as a possible future for Brady, a place he could end up if he continues to pursue his dangerous hobby. Yet he feels drawn to it anyway, a deadly passion that he can't quit. (Zhao makes sure to draw parallels between Brady's addiction to riding to his father's alcoholism or the way his friends mindlessly peck away at video slot machines.)

The reason this struggle really works is because the film makes it abundantly clear how much riding means to Brady. A pivotal scene has him finally getting back on top of a horse. The movie slows down, the world around him going quiet. In that moment, all we see and feel is what Brady is feeling. It's a sense of freedom, a rush that nothing else can compare to. I'm not a cowboy and I bet most of the people who have seen this movie aren't either. However, we all have something in our lives that give us that same feeling, something that helps us break out of the daily bullshit of our lives and experience something more serene. The clear depiction of this is what makes "The Rider" so compelling. 

While her first movie was, perhaps, too naturalistic, Zhao's documentary instincts still prove a little stronger than the more traditional attempts at dramatic storytelling. Throughout "The Rider," Brady gets a job as a horse trainer. He helps other people learn the ropes of being in the rodeo. Along the way, he encounters a wild horse that can't be broken. He has some success with taming it, in a quiet and calming way. Yet, near the movie's end, the horse gets out of its pin and injuries itself on a barb wire fence. Brady can't bring himself to put the horse down, someone else having to do it. Gee, could this possibly be a metaphor about how Brady's own wildness is going to get him killed? Perhaps that metaphor could've been deployed with a little more subtly. 

Ultimately, "The Rider" is truly elevated by its matter-of-factor portrait of living through a traumatic brain injury. In his day-to-day life, Brady discovers how his body is different now. His hand randomly goes into a death grip several times, forcing him to pry his own fingers apart. An attempt to ride a horse ends with him stopping and vomiting. These changes are as startling to the audience as they are to him. He has to learn to cope with these changes now. They aren't going away. "The Rider" portrays this struggle without melodrama but naturally captures the difficulty of recovery. 

Inevitably, Zhao has to examine the life style surrounding Brady's beloved rodeo. It's an exclusively male space. The cowboys go out drinking and smoke weed together. They gamble and attempt to pick up women. Inevitably, people come to blows. A creeper tries to convince Brady's little sister to drink a beer, which causes him to get very defensive. A playful wrestling match with a friend, spurned on by footage of Brady's old rodeo, eventually gets more violent. His friends never question if riding again is the best thing for Brady's health. They push him to risk his life again atop a horse. The critique of this extremely macho lifestyle, that values public displays of toughness over one's well-being, is pretty evidence. 

As she did last time, Zhao largely fills her film with first-timers and non-professional actors. The entirety of the cast is playing either themselves or characters that share their names. Despite this being Brady Jandreau's first (and, so far, only) acting role, he gives an extraordinary performance. Even in the movie's most dramatic moments, he maintains an utterly realistic stature. He approaches his physical and neurological challenges with stoic determination. Yet it's clear, in Jandreau's body language, the kind of toll these events take on him. Zhao manages to get a meaningful, incredibly emotionally affecting performance out of a quiet, ordinary guy.

The same can be said for a lot of the supporting cast. Brady's father and sister essentially play themselves. I personally find it very touching the way Zhao never makes a big deal over Lilly's autism. From her manner of speech and actions - she cuts up a bra given to her - it's obvious that she's not neurotypical. Yet the film doesn't feel the need to specify what Lilly's exact condition is or portray her life as some big struggle. This is just who she is. It's part of her life and Brady's life but it doesn't exclusively define her. (Much the same way Brady's challenges are not his sole attribute.) Brady's real life dad, Tim, also gives an empathetic and interesting performance as the fictional Wayne, a man struggling with his own addiction to alcohol. 

"The Rider" is similar to Zhao's debut in another way too. Both are set among the flat, wide Dakota prairies. As in "Songs My Brothers Taught Me," Zhao creates some truly striking images among this highly cinematic landscape. The scene of Brady riding a horse before a setting sun, the horizon stretching in behind him, is the stuff of Americana. So is the images of him and his bodies sitting around a campfire in the black of night, singing cowboy songs and strumming on their guitars. The lo-fi beauty of these images feels at once totally natural but also intrinsically mythic. "The Rider" re-invents western iconography for the modern world without being excessively showy about it. 

"The Rider" would slowly gain buzz across several festivals, earning rave reviews in each one. It was one of those indies that sneaks up on you. A film that emerged seemingly out of nowhere to become one of the best reviewed movies of the year. People who I really respect, who really have their ear to the ground of film criticism, put this one on the top of their list. And "The Rider" is, indeed, an extraordinary film. A quietly moving depiction of recovery and struggle amid iconic American landscapes, it clearly signals the arrival of an exciting new talent. [Grade: A]