Spirit: Stallion Of The Cimarron (2002)
Main cast: Matt Damon (Narrator/Spirit), James Cromwell (The Colonel), and Daniel Studi (Little Creek)
Directors: Kelly Asbury and Lorna Cook

Aaah! What is it about Native Americans in a story that brings out the worst schmaltz and melodrama and consdescencion from the storytellers? This Black Beauty-met-Hysterical Native American Apologia is so awfully preachy and insulting that hubby and I actually hug each other and shriek in horror when Bryan Adams' voice comes out like stinking maggots from a pus-infested wound to seal the final agony.

You know the drill. Our horse stallion ("Freeeee! Freeeeee to follow your heart! Mamma and Papa gone, freeeee! Horses must be freeeeee!") named Spirit is captured by Evil White Man the Colonel, who then proceeds to yoke and torture Spirit to do work. Spirit runs away with Native American dude called Little Creek ("Freeeee! Freeeee to follow the heart! Eagles soaring in the sky, fish in the creek, stars are my grandmothers, etc"). They bound over and down waterfalls, escape from mountain lions ("Freeee!"), starvation, and my foot as I kick the TV hard.

And yes, yes, I know. White colonials = eeeeeeviiiil. Native Americans = pure and holy. Horses = freeeeee!

And don't get me started about Spirit's scary caterpillar eyebrows.

So painfully didactic in a most stupid way, this movie makes Disney's lacklustre Pocahontas look like some amazing movie indeed. Perfect for kiddies who haven't mastered the meaning of life's little ambiguities or those adults who want to relive such unthinking and even dangerous bigoted morality, but for us Giggles, we say a big neigh to this crapfest. We're both too old to lose our brain cells indiscriminately.

Rating: 26

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