The Kingdom of Horses

I finally watched Kingdom of Heaven with The Boy the other day. The show itself was all right. I much preferred Gladiator. Because Orlando Bloom, much as I enjoy imagining him tied to my bed, just can't carry a movie all by his lonesome. Even worse when you stick him right in the middle of acting luminaries like Jeremy Irons, Liam Neeson, and Edward Norton. It's like striking a match alight next to a supernova. No contest. And damn it, Orlando Bloom is just too pretty. He just ended up looking pretty and concerned, or pretty and heroic, or pretty and tired, or pretty and determined. It's hard to take him seriously as a defender of the people when you're wondering what foundation he uses.


"Slinky, will you marry me if I promise to be your dog?"


But the horses, oh my god. The one thing I liked about this show more than Gladiator was the horses. They were magnificent. They stole the show from Orlando Bloom entirely. There's something about a horse. You never really get an accurate sense of the sheer size and power of one until you're standing right next to them. Then you feel the smooth planes of muscles just under the sleek hide and it always comes as a shock as to how unbelievably perfect they look. That scene in the desert when Orlando Bloom manages to grab hold of the reins of that gorgeous black? I was watching the horse more than Bloom, half-unbuttoned shirt be damned.

And when they run, it's like watching music unfurl on screen. Ridley Scott did these breathtaking close-ups of all that flat, smooth muscle bunching under glossy hides, the wide deep chests and the graceful, clean legs all moving in unison, the pounding hooves on desert sand striking a thunderous sort of symphony. It takes your breath away.


Eat your heart out, Bloomy

Ridley Scott sure knows a good horse when he sees one. Pity about the casting.