Idris Elba can do the Philly cowboy jawn. He stars as Harp in Concrete Cowboy, a drama streaming on Netflix. Harp is a Black urban cowboy who must learn to be a father to his estranged son while trying to prevent his West Philly riding club from moseying into the sunset.
Idris proves his chops here. The accent. The swagger. John Luther stoicism meets Will Smith nonchalance. And he might get the top billing but Caleb McLaughlin is the star. Here, McLaughlin is a full-on young man with pride and anger and confusion and stubble and thick hair nearly presenting him as the Upside-Down version of Stranger Things' Lucas.
Concrete Cowboy, directed by Ricky Staub, rambles on for a time before it gets the chance to break into a gallop. Cole succumbs on the well-worn role of Daniel-san to Paris' (real-life Philly cowboy Jamil Prattis) Mr. Miyagi with scooping manure and raking sawdust becoming the daily exercise. Idris contently watches from above like some Asgardian god.
Staub, who adapts the movie with Dan Walser, takes his time with the family drama. Perhaps too much. The focus on Cole's inner conflict, the old fish-outta-water angle that is too waterlogged, drains away at the external. The Fletcher Street Urban Riding Club is almost presented as a cinematic fantasy so that the eventual bureaucratic threat is entirely too comical.
Concrete Cowboy displays that kinship while presenting a strong moral tale. Cole learns to be a cowboy; Harp a father. The movie shows a somewhat hidden life and celebrates that uniqueness. The soundtrack is hip. The horses are beautiful. But this is also a ride many have taken. After a while, any of that blend of uniqueness simply becomes a worn path. Concrete Cowboy is still worth getting into that saddle.
Idris proves his chops here. The accent. The swagger. John Luther stoicism meets Will Smith nonchalance. And he might get the top billing but Caleb McLaughlin is the star. Here, McLaughlin is a full-on young man with pride and anger and confusion and stubble and thick hair nearly presenting him as the Upside-Down version of Stranger Things' Lucas.
Concrete Cowboy, directed by Ricky Staub, rambles on for a time before it gets the chance to break into a gallop. Cole succumbs on the well-worn role of Daniel-san to Paris' (real-life Philly cowboy Jamil Prattis) Mr. Miyagi with scooping manure and raking sawdust becoming the daily exercise. Idris contently watches from above like some Asgardian god.
Staub, who adapts the movie with Dan Walser, takes his time with the family drama. Perhaps too much. The focus on Cole's inner conflict, the old fish-outta-water angle that is too waterlogged, drains away at the external. The Fletcher Street Urban Riding Club is almost presented as a cinematic fantasy so that the eventual bureaucratic threat is entirely too comical.
Concrete Cowboy displays that kinship while presenting a strong moral tale. Cole learns to be a cowboy; Harp a father. The movie shows a somewhat hidden life and celebrates that uniqueness. The soundtrack is hip. The horses are beautiful. But this is also a ride many have taken. After a while, any of that blend of uniqueness simply becomes a worn path. Concrete Cowboy is still worth getting into that saddle.