The Black Stallion Returns
Less poetic, less believable, but the romantic power carries over
When we last saw Alek Ramsey and his horse, “the Black,” they had just survived a shipwreck and won “the match race of the century.” The tale of their adventures was poetic, visually stunning and, in a wistful mood, almost possible. It was made with such careful art that the corny idea of a wonder horse and the pitiful acting of its star became the film’s special power. THE BLACK STALLION was an entrancing fable about the friendship between a nearly mythic beast and a child as natural as the ones you and I know.
Not much happened in that movie—a catastrophe, a contest, a lot of horse-and-boy gamboling. What carried it was the mood of poetry, a feat that the sequel, timidly or wisely, didn’t attempt to repeat.
In THE BLACK STALLION RETURNS the main business is adventure. Alek and the horse are a couple years older, still best friends, and now living on a farm. Without much ado the Black is kidnapped by some sinister Arabs. Alek pursues them to the boatyard and from there, after a phone call to explain to his mom (Teri Garr) what he’s up to, to Sahara.
With impulsive courage and awesome luck Alek stows away on a plane, tracks the horse thieves across the desert, survives numerous scimitar battles and finally finds his horse, only to learn that the Black’s destiny might no longer include him.
The stallion, he is told, was bred by the Berber tribe to represent them in a periodic, crucial race. Alec loves the horse, but the Berbers need it. What’s more, the Black seems to like the desert. Alek is forced to decide what’s best for all concerned, not just himself.
Alek’s last lucky break, you might have guessed, is the privilege of riding the stallion in the all-important race.
It’s a far different movie from the first. In my opinion, it’s a worse movie. The repeating pattern of exotic danger/miraculous solution is carried out so long it becomes ridiculous. Cliches are used by the camel load. The identity and motivations of all the counter-attacking Arabs are never clear. In short, in seems like a script a group of boys dreamed up.
The crowning absurdity is the race, which is based on a real Arab tradition but was filmed in stale Hollywood tradition. You could describe this race without seeing it: contestants who sabotage the hero’s “vehicle,” a trap-setting duo of comic villains, astounding comebacks by the good guy after being hindered. . .
Some of the original enchantment is carried over. The horse star, Cass-Olé, is photographed beautifully. The boy’s loyalty to his pet, in spite of the fact that the horse seems rather fickle, is still touching. Kelly Reno still can’t act but like before is mysteriously interesting to watch.
Because I liked the first edition so much I enjoyed even this bland second helping. With a little effort I could ignore the nonsense and fall again for the romantic notion of a mystical friendship between a boy and his horse.