Subscribe | UPI Odd Newsletter Subscribe In her marvel of a book "Seabiscuit: An American Legend," it takes Laura Hillenbrand a brisk 30 pages to sketch in the backgrounds of the three principal human characters before the star -- the runty-but-game horse of the title -- enters the scene. In the film "Seabiscuit," writer-director Gary Ross makes the audience wait 50 long minutes, the screenwriting equivalent of 50 pages -- an eternity -- for Seabiscuit to make his appearance. Even then, he is relegated to background status. Advertisement Though the personal stories of Charles Howard, the owner; Tom Smith, the trainer, and Red Pollard, the jockey, are compelling -- as written by Hillenbrand -- somehow on the screen they become confusing and tiresome. When the source material for a film is well-known to an audience, certain expectations accompany patrons into the theater. Yet surely even a person who knows nothing about this remarkable animal and his place in American history might be let down by this movie and mutter, as I did leaving a recent screening, "Where was the horse?" Advertisement Inexplicably, the film begins with the dignified voice of historian David McCullough telling us about the Model T, and Henry Ford's desire to produce an affordable car for the common man. Faded period photographs accompany McCullough's narrative insertions, similar to the style of documentary filmmaker Ken Burns. While this technique lends a stately importance to the story, it quickly becomes annoying and seems to slow the action in what is, after all, a moving picture. The oddest example in that regard is the director's choice in the big scene -- the renowned match race between Seabiscuit and Triple Crown winner War Admiral. We have heard Tom Smith say that the horse who breaks first will most likely win the race, and we have seen him train little Seabiscuit to jump at the sound of a fire alarm. We see the starter's finger poised over the button that will ring the bell and then ... and then ... the director cuts to photos of people sitting around their radios in homes and cars, listening to the broadcast. Unbelievable, but he never shows the beginning of the race! These are just technicalities. The real disappointment of "Seabiscuit" is we never really get to "see" the horse. Quick cuts show bits and pieces, mostly at a distance, but the lingering shots that would be necessary to illuminate his legendary eyes and unusual body language are not there. Advertisement Hillenbrand, in her elegant prose, described an animal with immense personality who fairly danced off the page. As a colt, Seabiscuit was ignored and ill-used for several years until a gifted trainer actually made eye-contact and perceived the intelligence and spirit within his inauspicious exterior. But it was Charles Howard, a man of substantial wealth and charisma, who instantly fell in love with this unpromising thoroughbred and possessed the money, patience and faith to make him a champion. It's that exceptional champion's quality Hillenbrand so carefully reveals, how a winning horse will swagger and even intimidate competitors. Seabiscuit earned his fame through his winning heart, craving victory so much his jockey said of him, "You could kill him before he'd quit." Ross fails to portray this wonderful intimacy with the horse on screen. Instead, we have Howard, Smith and Pollard skulking around Pimlico in a mock James Bond caper to spy on arch rival War Admiral. Such hokey nonsense! Instead of getting into the soul of this icon, we follow the biographies of three men and try to make sense of their lives. Yet their true histories are muddled or downright fabricated in pointless ways. Why not show, for instance, the colorful way Howard, a car salesman, began to amass his fortune? He drove his entire inventory -- three Buicks he'd been unable to sell -- into the aftermath of the San Francisco earthquake of 1906 and used them as ambulances or supply wagons. A few years later, he owned dealerships all over the West. Advertisement Also, the movie suggests the whole country was rooting for Seabiscuit in the match race, but 95 percent of the gate bet against him. And why not take a few seconds to portray President Roosevelt keeping a roomful of advisors waiting in the White House while he listened to the race call? Hillenbrand suffers from a debilitating illness. Barely able to move physically, she wrote her book in a cramped room, her imagination immersed in the world of horses and racing. Through words alone, she creates the sense of being seated on a horse and driving the half-ton beast at lickety-split speed around a muddy, uncertain track. The best the film offers are many, many shots looking at mounted jockeys' rear ends. Fancy mechanical horses were used for close-ups in order to show the jockeys talking to one another during a race, and this inauthenticity speaks loudly. Even more mechanical are the repetitious lines of tepid dialogue and -- over and over -- facial reaction shots expressing anxiety and tension before and during races. Overworked in this regard are the actors playing Howard's wife, Marcela, and faithful old groom, Sam. Saying little, their worried brows furrow time and again. Advertisement Hillenbrand pushes her narrative along, going deeper into the sport of racing but never letting go of her subject and never forgetting she is writing a love story. The most egregious omission from the film is perhaps the failure to depict the years of Seabiscuit's retirement. Ross chooses to fade out before the champion finishes his last race. Not to include an epilogue showing Howard's singular devotion beyond the natural life of his beloved horse defies understanding. Even a written coda would have been better. A film is not a book, and each director enjoys vast creative license. But in this case, the book is about something specific. It's about Seabiscuit. I don't know what this film is about, but it's not about that horse. It may be about the Great Depression or something called "the beginning and end of imagination." It is sort of about open plains and mountains vs. industry. There's a lot of jabber about "the little guy." Maybe it's about him. Many scenes -- lively ones at that -- depict how to create sound effects for radio. Is it about what the character called Howard keeps saying, "The future is the finish line?" Darned if I know. Take your pick. The unfortunate thing is, something precious was handed to Ross on a platter which he has dropped. Nothing disappoints like wasted opportunity. Advertisement Although it is sad that Hillenbrand got cheated out of a great film version of her work, the real sorrow lies elsewhere. Seabiscuit, old buddy, what a gyp. You deserve better.
