Don't Travel To Horizon | Review

Kevin Costner Should Probably Apologize to Yellowstone

Here at Cinemantics, we try not to show too much ill will against the pictures we don’t care for. Usually, we leave those complaints to our group chat, the bar, or around the coffee maker at work. So, in the spirit of that, I’ll try to be as charitable as possible.

This review will be relatively short, while the film in question, Horizon: An American Saga—Chapter One, is long, confounding, and nearly unwatchable.

This pains me to write, folks. Friends, family, and colleagues know my love for the most American of genres. From the Charles Portis novel True Grit to television’s Deadwood to The Searchers and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, nothing perks my interest more than a Western. Add Kevin Costner’s pedigree, and, well, you have a contender for my most anticipated movie of the year. But even if you eat, sleep, and breathe Westerns like me, you should sit this out.

Usually, my reviews begin with a quick synopsis of the film’s plot to help give context to my commentary. The problem I’m running into with reviewing Chapter One is that, well, I can’t really do that. While the planned four-film franchise will tell the story of the settling of a community in the Wild West, Chapter One merely sets up the pieces on the chess board. Nothing happens. That’s not an exaggeration, folks. Except for a standout set piece in the first forty-five minutes (which might be one of the best scenes of the year), almost nothing happens. Nothing. Zilch. Nada.

Then, to add insult to injury, just as the pieces start to move, the screen cuts to black, and the next, more interesting, installment is teased. This is strange. Normally, when one pays money to see a movie, they expect something to happen, not be blue balled for three hours. This first installment feels more like the first few episodes of a limited television series than a movie.

If you’ve followed the press junket, you’ll see the irony.

An apostle for the big screen experience, Costner left Yellowstone, television’s most popular show, to make, frankly, another damn television show. It’s clear that Costner’s former collaborator, Yellowstone creator Taylor Sheridan, has rubbed off on ol’ Kev. Here, the grandeur of film and the storytelling devices of television are in constant conflict. We see this in every scene and frame. On one hand, the visual scope of each scene rivals anything John Ford put on screen. On the other hand, it is shot digitally and cheap. Gone is the rich texture of Monument Valley; gone is the depth of focus and the graininess of the film stock that gave twentieth-century Westerns a tactile grittiness. Even the most beautiful vistas of Wyoming and Utah feel flat and lifeless.

The film’s pitch of exploring Westward Expansion and the great toll it took on Indigenous peoples and American settlers is incredibly cinematic. It harkens back to How The West Was Won. But the structure and plot lines—three primary ones with a few subplots—are incredibly episodic, and they often feel like they belong in a soap opera. Hardly a compliment for a film that wants to be a commentary on the settling of the West and the creation of the American mythos.

The very nature of how Costner wants audiences to see Horizon conflicts with the story he wants to tell. Audacious as it is to tell a television-level story on the big screen, this audience member is sad to say that he has no real desire to see the next installment. And I don’t think I’m alone, given current box office projections.

Characters come and go like tumbleweeds, many without names, motivations, or personalities. But do not fret about remembering them; they’ll probably be killed off in the next scene. More than likely, their “tragic” or “shocking” death will be witnessed by some mourner, accompanied by a John Debney score that strains for greatness and stumbles, often feeling like it belongs more in Days of Our Lives than a Western in the tradition of Hawkes and Ford and Leoni. To make matters worse, whole new characters and plots are introduced well into the third hour! And we’re expected to care about them immediately?

It is not hyperbolic to say that I had to ask myself several times throughout the movie: “Who are they? Why are they doing this? Why do I care? Why am I still sitting through this?” The setup is everything, the payoff is nonexistent, and the characters we’re meant to care about are dull and lifeless.

On X and in my personal sphere, I am guilty of gushing over vanity projects from the Old Masters. In the modern studio era, the idea of directors like Costner or Francis Ford Coppola investing in their own projects when the Mouse House or Netflix won’t dare go near it is incredible. Dumb, yes, but incredible.

As both a movie lover and someone who wants to be a filmmaker one day, it’s important to see and learn from the Don Quixotes of Hollywood. Because, as history has shown time and time again when the bet pays off, you can have Star Wars or Apocalypse Now. But, as future generations will warn aspiring filmmakers when you bet and lose it all, you’ll get Horizon: An American Saga.

Go West, sir, but this is one journey I won’t be following you on.

---

“Horizon: An American Saga—Chapter One” is now playing in theaters nationwide. Rated R for bloodshed, discreet sex, and partial nudity.

---