Meet the Real Horse Whisperer

What makes Brannaman so inherently good at what he does, we learn, is his own painful past. As a child, after the early death of his mother, he suffered horrific beatings and abuse by his alcoholic father. Ultimately, he and his older brother—both skilled rope trick riders—were placed in foster homes. (We meet Brannaman’s foster mother, with whom he maintains a close, loving relationship.)

Brannaman emerged from the ordeal a painfully shy person with an uncanny connection to horses. He forced himself to come out of his shell to share his gift with others and later consulted with director Robert Redford on the Horse Whisperer film.    (Redford praises Brannaman’s tactics in two scenes in Buck—the second one seeming a bit gratuitous.)

First-time director Cindy Meehl’s understanding of her subject’s character is what makes Buck work as a film. (It won this year’s Sundance documentary audience award.) Meehl, a horsewoman herself, brought in two skilled cinematographers—Luke Geissbuhler and Guy Mossman—whose camera work puts the viewer right there in the big country. While following Brannaman, she happens upon a dramatic session during which a young woman brings him her wild three-year-old stud. The horse has been known to attack cars, and it viciously bites one of Brannaman’s most skilled assistants when he attempts to mount him. “Your horse is a mirror to your soul,” Brannaman warns its owner, “and sometimes you may not like what you see.”  In a 10-minute scene that will break your heart, Brannaman gently lures—rather than forces—the horse into a trailer that will more than likely take him for euthanization. Lest we be lulled by the trainer’s success, the scene reminds us that life is also about failure.

You’ll walk away from Buck with a profound respect for the man, the horses he trains, and the fact that, for the people who attempt to harness them, it’s never too late to change.