Though it's a relic when the might of major studios was all but total, there's a part of me that misses the days of singular animals earning stardom like their human cousins. It's one matter for dogs to be trained to play a character in a franchise; it's another to have a singular icon like Orangey the cat - or Rex the Wonder Horse. Furthermore, relatively few are those titles that specifically center animals in their own full-fledged roles; usually they're depicted in relation to human co-stars. Part of the innate charm of 'The king of wild horses' is that while there's a discrete narrative of human drama, Rex is allowed to be a character with a personality independent of the people populating his world. It's surely a credit to reputed producer and filmmaker Hal Roach to have developed a narrative that's memorable in this regard, and screenwriter Carl Himm also renders the two halves of this picture quite distinct from one another; the goings-on among humans are juxtaposed with sequences of Rex running free, and as they are eventually tied together, it is with admirable finesse. Even setting this aside, however, nearly 100 years later this is still rather special. It may not absolutely demand viewership, but it's highly enjoyable and well made, and is very much deserving on its own merits as an early western classic.
The filming locations are gorgeous, and director Fred Jackman and cinematographer Floyd Jackman do a fine job of emphatically making the landscapes a substantial element of the storytelling; if to a lesser extent than Swedish filmmaker Victor Sjöström, especially with regular collaborator Julius Jaenzon, no other comparison immediately comes to mind. To that point, let there be no doubt that Jack Lindell trained Rex very well, for the stunts and maneuvers that Rex pulls off, not least on such rough terrain, are pretty impressive. (And, yes, that goes for his equine and human co-stars, too.) 'The king' is very well done in all other regards, including excellent effects, production design, and costume design. Beyond the utilization of the setting, the direction and cinematography are both commendably strong in orchestrating and capturing shots and scenes. And by all means, kudos to Roach and Himm for adept storytelling, weaving these two parts into one complete saga. The tale of the titular sovereign and Billy Blair is most readily compelling, and unexpectedly touching, but as the plot on the Fielding homestead progresses, it also becomes more engrossing that it appeared at first blush. Deft scene writing and smart intertitles help to round out storytelling that's honestly a cut above what I anticipated, and as all blends together, I'd be lying if I said I weren't impressed by how subtly but surely the feature engages viewers and keeps us invested.
'The king of wild horses' isn't an outright revelation; unless one is supremely devoted to westerns, horses, or cinema at large, I wouldn't go so far as to say it's entirely a must-see. All the same, there's ultimately more to it than first meets the eye, and in all regards it's gratifyingly well done. Stunts and action are actually the primary movers here, with just enough story to serve as a foundation and fuel the course of events. I didn't assume much when I sat to watch, and I'm pleased to say that the end result is significantly more entertaining and absorbing than it seems from the outside looking in. Not all pictures are equal, even in the silent era, and not all age equally well. I'm very happy to say that this is one film that really does hold up after so many years, and delivers both solid fun and genuine excitement. I can appreciate why older movies don't appeal to all modern audiences, but I'm inclined to say this is one example that could possibly even help to bridge that gap. Don't completely go out of your way to watch 'The king of wild horses,' but if you do have the opportunity to check it out, this is well worth a mere hour of one's time.
