One of the year’s best, and most unusual, films.
The Rider’s pace is what critics often, charitably, call deliberate, and my father calls slow. It entranced me, but individual mileage is going to vary. I think that’s important to note up front.
Chloé Zhao casts non-professional actors to play versions of themselves to heartbreaking effect. Brady Jandreau may be essentially playing himself, but that doesn’t negate the honest sensitivity he projects. He’s stunning, with an introspective charisma male actors can rarely convey effectively, and Zhao casually showcases his youthful physical beauty in the same vivid way she films mountains and sunsets. Everyone seems completely authentic and unrehearsed; Jandreau’s sister, Lilly, is particularly lovely and is, herself, a reason I already plan to revisit this film soon.
The Rider has no shortage of heavy themes, hardship, identity, masculinity, recovery, and sport are all examined in surprisingly complex ways, but the film never feels bogged down or preachy.
I think The Rider is going to stick with me for a long time.
in the dark 