Writer-director John Gatins’s film is about what families ought to treasure, but take for granted. These are the times, places, people, and things that bind them ... sometimes
Family Challenges
Ben first curses Soñador’s fate as an utter disaster; after all, he’s fired just because he rages at his boss for racing the horse when it should’ve rested. But Lilly reminds Ben that the wound, no matter how traumatic, may be a blessing. It shows him, through the pain that he and Soñador temporarily endure, that his family matters most.Of a despondent Cale, Lilly challenges Ben, “Can’t you see how much she wants to be with you?” Later, when his boss tries to buy back Soñador after first rejecting it as a futile bet, Ben learns that not everything is about return on investment and professional smarts.
Cale as the narrator says, “We’re probably the only horse farm in Lexington, Kentucky that doesn’t have one horse,” hinting at warmth that’s initially lacking in Ben. She mirrors Soñador’s fighting spirit; she’s fighting to win Ben’s affection that she believes is her birthright, just as Soñador’s fighting, as a thoroughbred, for it’s rightful place on the racetrack.
Ben’s experienced so much pain and loss training his beloved horses that he doesn’t want those heartaches for hypersensitive Cale. So, when Cale’s upset over Ben’s overprotectiveness, fending her off horse racing, Lilly reminds Cale that people sometimes do say hurtful things. But a word, phrase, or gesture, no matter how scarring, shouldn’t widen a rift because a child, sibling, or parent allows one negative incident to overwhelm thousands of positive ones. So, memories count.
Some horses on a racetrack—surrounded by noises, colors and movements—may fear that their trainer has abandoned them. What supports them then? Memories of his soothing voice, protective hand, and watchful eye in otherwise deserted farm stalls with no one else about. Some children heading to a new school or college, a hostile sports field or facing rejection, humiliation, or failure may fear that a parent has forsaken them. What gets them through? Memories of things they did or hobbies they enjoyed together, but often it’s of simple acts of forgiveness and sacrifice.
Ben’s faith beats everyone else’s fatalism. He prefers to take a fallen Soñador to its stalls. The doctor, wanting to put it down right there on the racetrack, moans, “What’s the point? She’s finished.” Likewise, some people give up on sick, injured, or disabled people even when there’s considerable hope and life left in them. Ben’s courage and commitment to nurse Soñador back to health is a vote for life and all it promises.
Decisions to Care
The Cranes show that it is repeated decisions to care, not just common interests or work or hobbies, that unite families. A farmhand explains Ben’s craft to Cale; he knows how a horse feels because he truly listens to it. That means being attentive to its mood, its gait, its temperature, its breathing, its eyes.
In families, that’s about more than going to work, a picnic, or a ballgame together in symbolic togetherness. It’s about being open to nonverbal cues, too: an unexpected silence, a crestfallen look, a smiling wink, a sad hug, a disappointed nod. It’s the kind of attentiveness family life demands. Only then can a parent, sibling, or child respond to what’s left unsaid, undone. And not overreact to what’s said or done.
