This movie was painful to watch -- from the cute kid placing herself adorably in front of daddy's car to the purple prose spilling out of the cute kid's mouth to the horse slurping the lollipops out of the cute kid's hand to the cardboard bad guys to the inexplicable kick the horse gets at the end to the way the jolly po people in they Sunday best get to trot out onto the track at the end to... Ugh. I can't continue. Elisabeth Schue looks good, however. Why we have to fill up ten lines on a film like this is beyond me, but here goes: the predictability of this thing makes it impossible to generate a spoiler: a brilliant horse trainer feels the heat of a horses front leg, tells the horse's manager that the horse doesn't want to run that day, but the manager says the horse has to run because it is running against its owner's brother's horse. The owner is some Arab who probably got his money from oil -- either way, we are clearly meant to think -- oh, bad, petty ego. The horse goes down, and because the poor trainer (who, if he were that good, wouldn't be as poor as he is made out to be -- despite the lame excuse concocted later) has brought his adorable little annoying daughter with him, he takes the horse home with him, and the evil manager tells him to take his Mexicans with him. Well, now we have a horse with a broken leg, and an old geezer played by the ever more "free" (as in having nothing left to lose) once great Chris Christopherson, who is the po trainer's dad and spouts a lot of ridiculous clichés that seem to make him wince -- or is that just wishful thinking? Well, they fix the horse and want to mate her, but she is sterile -- so, guess what happens next?
