Although 1979’s The Electric Horseman prompted mostly mild ambivalence upon its release, it’s easy to wonder if it perhaps requires a re-evaluation. As Roger Ebert – one of the film’s few outright supporters – said at the time, ‘The Electric Horseman is the kind of movie they used to make.’ One wonders, then, what critics would make of it now.

Ebert’s words strike a particular chord with me, because The Electric Horseman is an intensely likable film and about as far away from modern moviemaking as you could possibly imagine. It has the carefully calibrated star power of Robert Redford and Jane Fonda, as well as the tried-and-true iconoclastic story of the washed-up cowboy taking his shot at redemption against the black-hearted city slickers. Perhaps the Coen Brothers could remake this, but that’s about as far as the imagination allows you to wander.

For all that, however, The Electric Horseman should have been a lot better. It starts out brilliantly, but once too often screenwriter Robert Garland and director Sydney Pollack cut a corner or ignore a plot hole, leaving the film slightly hobbled, much like its four-legged co-star.

Redford is Sonny Steele, an ex-world champion cowboy reduced to leveraging his charisma to sell crappy breakfast cereal. Sonny’s conglomerate employers, Amco, are preparing for a financial merger and have brought the cowboy to Las Vegas in order to sell their business decision to their shareholders. Sonny, pretty much permanently boozed, sobers up long enough to object to the way in which some handlers are treating a prizing winning horse named Rising Star, and in a moment of clarity, rides off into the sunset on the $12 million stud.

So begins a hectic cross country chase, as Amco’s directors try everything in their power to capture Steele, whilst a razor sharp New York reporter, played by Fonda, teams up with the errant cowboy.

It’s stock standard stuff leavened considerably in the early scenes by some very sharp satire, as Sonny’s anachronistic ways highlight the ridiculous nature of the city slickers who so clearly deride him. Willie Nelson helps with an appearance as Sonny’s cynical manager, which includes the greatest line every about trailer hitches and tequila.

But when things hit the open road, The Electric Horseman segues into predictability. By the late 70s, the anti-big business, anti-media line was well covered, and it takes all of Redford and Fonda’s charisma and comic skill to keep things interesting. In the supporting roles, John Saxon chews the scenery as the cold-hearted head of Amco, Hunt Sears, while Valerie Perrine nails her short screen time as Sonny’s bright-eyed ex-wife. But the clever, subtle satire that lit up the screen early on has all but disappeared by the time the final third rolls around.

You’d have to be a cold-hearted prick to hate on The Electric Horseman – there’s simply too much here to like. But if a little more care had gone into the film’s writing and Pollack been a little more restrained in his sentimentality, this could have been a stone cold classic. As it is, The Electric Horseman eschews a fearless gallop for an enjoyable canter, and it’s for that reason it will forever remain shrouded within the less visited recesses of the film universe.


I say: This should have been so much better, but The Electric Horseman remains an enjoyable ride through the kind of filmmaking that just doesn’t happen anymore.

See it for: Redford and Fonda. Redford in particular has become underrated for his comic skill, and transmits Sonny Steele’s literal approach to life with an easy charm that’s the actor’s own.