A strong vibe of comfort, of serenity and reassurance, radiates from its frames. The fascinating, elusive subject matter of the documentary, the vast picturesque green vistas of the southern grazing lands captured so lovingly, so reverently, by the poised, perceptive lens, and the patient narrative that is thoughtful and romantic in parts yet alarmingly realistic in others render âBuckâ a quintessentially American film devoid of the many trappings of American films.
Cindy Meehlâs debut feature about Buck Brannaman â the famous horse trainer and the inspiration for Nicholas Evansâ international best-selling novel âThe Horse Whispererâ and Robert Redfordâs 1998 film adaptation â was one the biggest success stories of 2011. The film premiered in Sundance, garnering the audience award at last yearâs edition. Released in theaters in the summer, âBuckâ provided a much welcome alternative for audiences seeking a break from the big, noisy blockbusters, steadily building steam on the strength of the raving critical reception. By the end of the year, âBuckâ became the fifth highest earning documentary of 2011 and as it stands now, is one of the top 35 grossing documentaries of all time.
Born in 1962, Brannaman was a child prodigy of sorts; a trick rope performer who started learning tricks at the age of three. Under the mentorship of their strict father, Brannaman and his brother toured rodeos across America, occasionally performing blind-folded, and appeared in a number of TV programs and commercials.
Details of Brannamanâs childhood are kept under wrap, gradually unfolding as the viewer becomes more acquainted with the man and his world. A gentle, intelligent soft-spoken man with deep compassion for horses and people, the original horse whisperer comes off as a life coach guiding people to a better, more thoughtful life through his treatment and relationship with horses.
âWhen youâre dealing with a horse, you bring your own personal issues,â he says in one scene. âIt becomes about how you treat your wife or children.â
âYou hope you say the right things, to plant a seed and hope that they find the answers in their life,â he says in another.
The film follows Brannaman in one of his four-day travelling clinics. By getting up, close and personal to him, Meehl attempts to inspect his methods, decipher the mystery, the magic, behind them. Her endeavors prove to be fruitless; for Brannamanâs craft remains an unsolvable enigma, an extension of his personality.
The idyllic set of the film contrasts with Brannamanâs traumatized childhood. As a little boy, both Brannaman and his brother were subjected to years of physical abuse by their alcoholic father after the death of their mother. Family members and friends eventually found out and the two boys were later placed in a foster home before their aunt adopted them.
What emerges with these revelations is a tale about choice and redemption. Brannaman sought horses to overcome his past, heal his profound wounds and transcend the grave cruelty he was subjected to. Fate has no role in this story; Brannaman made and shaped his own life narrative, choosing the path of grace, of enlightenment, over self-destruction.
Brannaman understands the complexities, challenges and trepidations of life, but he also understands that ultimately, the life you end up leading is the life you choose and not the life you assume youâre destined for.
The film doesnât hide its admiration for Brannaman, but it never descends into hagiography. âBuckâ is enlivened by warm hues ideal for both the sunny setting and the subject at hand, but it doesnât veer into tacky sentimentality â the sober, tough last act in which Brannaman deals with a wild colt is a wake-up call to a murky reality informed by our misgivings and fallacies.
The success of âBuckâ is all the more remarkable considering that fact that itâs Meehlâs first attempt in filmmaking. I met with Meehl last year at the Abu Dhabi Film Festival as âBuckâsâ lengthy theatrical was coming to an end. A passionate horse lover and a great believer in the power of film, Meehl discussed her transition from fashion to filmmaking, her relationship with Brannaman, and the unexpected success of her film.
âI was a fashion designer in my 20s for about 10 years in New York,â she said. âThen I moved to Connecticut where I had an art studio. I also had horses there, and I love horses.
âA friend of mine advised me to attend one of Buckâs clinics. He kept raving about him. Iâd gotten interested in that type of horsemanship at the time. So I went with my horse to one of his clinics in Pennsylvania, and I was an immediate convert. He was everything my friend said and more.
âThat was nearly 10 years ago. Fast forward to five or six years later, I went to a clinic in Texas. Thatâs when I started thinking about making a film about him. I didnât tell anyone that I was thinking of making a movie. Iâve never made a movie. It felt I had to do something about him though, to get this message out, because the way he teaches about the horses translates into your entire life.
âIâm in my â50s now and I feel like at this age, a lot of the stuff you think theyâre important when youâre younger really fall away. There was something about Buck that was so empowering, that would help people, and I thought what better thing to do than help people. At that point in my life, I realized that that is what really gives me fulfillment.
âSo, without telling anybody, I just went up and asked him, and he agreed.â
Before filming, Meehl read Brannamanâs autobiography âThe Faraway Horsesâ in which he discusses his childhood tragedy. âIn the book, he doesnât dwell on the childhood part so you donât feel sorry for him. Itâs the exact opposite. What he teaches you, through the horses, is that feeling sorry for something is only going to promote the same behavior. What you need to do instead is give them self-worth, give them a job, give them something to do. It doesnât help to pity people.â
âDid you try to push him further in that area, to learn more about his childhood?â I asked her. âWell, since heâs already written about it, heâs actually quite open in that area, but he doesnât make a big deal out of it. There were lots of stories in the book, lots of stories on tape, but thatâs not the story I wanted to tell. Itâs an important piece of this puzzle, of how he became who he is, but I didnât want to create a sad story. I wanted to create an inspirational story.â
The world of Brannaman, the American South, is unlike anything youâve seen before; a placid, scenic retreat functioning with its own set of rules.
âI grow up riding English, whichâs the hunter/jumper style, small saddles, different outfits ⊠much different than Buckâs, but yet itâs not really, and thatâs what he taught me,â Meehl said. âI came from my world into this world where it was so moving on so many levels. The people who follow Buck are what you see on screen. They really care for him; they really care for their horses. They really work hard to get this type of horsemanship.
âTheyâre very giving, generous people. This was a part of the whole package that moved me to make this film; it wasnât just Buck. It was this way of life, where things seem a little bit simpler. And itâs not as if theyâre not living in todayâs world. They have problems and lives like anyone else. Theyâre not quite so guarded though; theyâre open and they all striving to reach the same goal.â
âBuckâsâ commercial success came as a surprise to most industry observers, outperforming several high-profile productions by veteran filmmakers such as âProject Nimâ (James March), âTabloidâ (Errol Morris) and âThe Interruptersâ (Steve James) among others. âWere you surprised by the huge success of the movie?â I asked her.
âThatâs a good question,â a smiley Meehl answered. âYou know, in a way, it was a good thing I hadnât made a film before, because all my expectations were about this man and this story and thatâs all I wanted to do, to get his wisdom out there. I didnât have any boundaries.
âWe were told that this is not a Sundance film, that horse films donât do that well. I actually thought that was a good thing, because there werenât anything like this out there. I simply worked it hard and didnât care about anything else. Thereâs a lot of dark stuff in the world right now. You turn on the news and you just want to cry. I just wanted to give people hope; I wanted to do something different.
âI didnât put any particular expectations on it. Not a lot of people impress me, and not a lot of things impress me. Iâve seen a lot in my life, and for someone to impress me and inspire me as much as he didâŠ. I had an art background; I had a lot of confidence and creativity to go out and do it, but in reality, there were a lot of things that couldâve went wrong. I think it was all meant to be. This story chose me; this is the story I was meant to tell. I wasnât surprised because I didnât have that frame of reference that couldâve driven me to say this is impossible, but I felt that is important to me; that if I told the story right, it would be important for other people. There was something magical that worked on this film that was way beyond me.â
Thereâs a fine line between warmth and sappiness, a line Meehl brilliantly treads, never falling into the latter. How did she keep these tendencies in check, I asked her.
âPart of it because of Buck himself,â she said. âHeâs got that cowboy mannerism, he says it like it is and itâs always what you want to hear.
âInteresting thing happened this morning. A teacher came up to me in a screening from Egypt and she told me that I should make more films like this in Egypt because theyâre terrible with their animals and donkeys and that I should show that.
âThing is, it doesnât really help to show the beating of an animal, to milk that sentimentality. If people donât know that itâs terrible beating an animal, then me showing it will simply make people cringe and go away. I donât want to preach the people, and I think that unfortunately, many filmmakers fall into this trap.
âI simply used Buck to tell his story instead of forcing any particular message of mine. Buck can sometimes be very understated, and sometimes you go, âI wish he could just tell me exactly what I should do.â But in a way, itâs more powerful that he puts it out there and let you seek it out, just like the way he does it with horses. He gives them a choice. I also think that people need to search for it a little bit.â
Every nuance of Meehlâs words indicates a close attachment to Brannamanâs world. I asked her if it was difficult to let go when she finished shooting.
âI have not let go,â she smiled. âI still talk to my crew all the time. In August, we all went to this ranch in Montana. Weâre like this family now. We talk all the time. I have not left this film at all.â
âBuckâ is currently available on DVD in the US. The film is scheduled for European release later this year.
Celebrated horse trainer Buck Brannaman in a scene from the film.