Flicka
Of the many breathtaking sights in ``Flicka" (rolling plains, mountain views, Wyoming sky that stretches on and on and on), the most impressive happens to be Alison Lohman's hair. Whether she's astride a galloping horse or tumbling down a hill, her copper locks seem so divinely equine that the actual horses, with their lifeless manes, terrible bangs, and split ends, must surely be jealous. This hair is alive. Fortunately, so is the rest of this lovably corny adaptation of Mary O'Hara's grade-school classic, ``My Friend Flicka. "
O'Hara's book and the 1943 weepie it became were about a wayward boy (Roddy McDowell in the '43 version) given a young filly as a lesson to teach him responsibility. This progressive update has a spine. Lohman plays Katy McLaughlin, a 16-year-old who has to repeat a year of school because she can't stop thinking about horses or her family's ranch. Her first night home for summer vacation, she slips out of her bedroom, races into the stable, and asks its braying residents, ``Who wants to go ridin'?" It's more of an exclamation the way Lohman says it. And you certainly share her excitement after she does.
On that ride, Katy discovers a wild oil-black mustang. Instantly in love, she names it Flicka (Swedish, apparently, for ``beautiful girl"), and begs her daddy not to sell it.
Dad, played by an affecting Tim McGraw in a sad hairpiece, sells it anyway and modest familial angst ensues. That scene of the sale is the only bad moment in Mark Rosenthal and Lawrence Konner's screenplay. Flicka has to go, but not before Katy's strapping older brother (Ryan Kwanten ) announces that he hates daddy, and he hates the stupid ranch, and he's going East -- to BU. Dad yells back. Katy cries for the horse. And mom (Maria Bello) urges them all to chill.
But by this point, the film, which Michael Mayer directed, has taken care to convincingly demonstrate that the McLaughlins are a loving family. In one romantic scene, on horseback, mom and dad are even shown discussing how to resolve this hiccup in their harmony. You can feel the love all over this movie. In fact, there might be too much. Several scenes were required for me to believe that Lohman and Kwanten weren't more than siblings. Not all his glances seem brotherly -- yet there's nothing creepy or untoward about him, either. It's love, man.
The best parts of ``Flicka" are its pinch-me optimism and its old-fashioned-movie flourishes. Eventually, Katy goes after the horse with hazardous abandon. And her reckless courage affords us some cliffhanger-style swipe editing and the sight of a feverish Lohman doing some terrific thrashing in her bed. ``Flickaaaa," she moans.
Wesley Morris can be reached at wmorris@globe.com.
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