More often than not, when you hear some movie fans of a certain age complain “They sure don’t make them like they used to,” they’re referring to, and likely wishing for, something on the order of “The Last Rodeo.” Smoothly directed by Jon Avnet (“Fried Green Tomatoes,” “Up Close & Personal”) from a script he co-wrote with lead actor Neal McDonough and Derek Presley, this thoroughly predictable but undeniably engaging faith-based drama is an inoffensively old-fashioned entertainment that, with only minor tweaking, could pass for a Walt Disney Studios release of yore.
McDonough, a veteran actor frequently seen as a black-hearted tough customer in such TV series as “Justified,” “The Flash” and “Yellowstone,” and most recently showcased as a worthy foil for Sylvester Stallone in “Tulsa King,” is every bit as effective here as a character who remains staunchly on the side of the angels. McDonough plays Joe Wainwright, a former champion bull rider who retired from rodeoing after sustaining serious neck injuries during a close encounter with an especially nasty bovine. Mind you, the bull wasn’t entirely to blame: Joe recklessly mounted the animal after a bout of heavy drinking, a bad habit that started around the time he lost his beloved wife (Ruvé McDonough, the actor’s real-life wife, seen fleetingly in flashbacks) to cancer.
Joe’s subsequent lengthy recovery required his daughter Sally (Sarah Jones) to more or less put her life on hold while serving as her father’s caregiver. She hasn’t complained about having to shoulder that responsibility — well, not much — but she puts her foot down and expresses industrial-strength disapproval whenever Cody (Graham Harvey), her young son, expresses a wish to follow in his grandfather’s bootsteps.
Fortunately, as “The Last Rodeo” begins, Cody appears far more interested in baseball. Unfortunately, while he’s undergoing medical treatment after being beaned by a ball during a Little League game, Cody is diagnosed with a brain tumor. Naturally, Sally doesn’t have nearly enough insurance to cover the massive medical bills for her son.
If it seems like you’ve heard this song before, recently, it’s probably because there was a similar setup just last year in “Ride,” Jake Allyn’s impressively suspenseful drama about a rodeo family driven to extremes (i.e. relieving a drug dealer of his ill-gotten gain) to pay for their young daughter’s cancer treatment.
In “The Last Rodeo,” Joe attempts something arguably even more dangerous to help his grandson. What might that be? Well, take another look at this movie’s title.
As fate and screenwriting contrivance would have it, there’s a fortuitously timed Legends Rodeo competition sponsored by the Professional Bull Riding Association slated to begin upstate soon in Tulsa, Oklahoma. To get his hands on $1 million in prize money, all Joe has to do is drag his battered f50-something body back into shape, ignore the not-unreasonable dire warnings of his daughter, convince his highly skeptical but deeply religious rodeo buddy Charlie Williams (Mykelti Williamson) to coach him, and cajole glad-handing, image-conscious PBR overlord Jimmy Mack (Christopher McDonald) to rubber-stamp his late application to become the oldest competitor ever in the history of the Legends event.
Nothing to it, right? Credibility isn’t stretched so much as it is scrupulously ignored throughout much of “The Last Rodeo.” Indeed, the movie conceivably might have been laughed off the screen were it not for unflappable sincerity and indefatigable determination that Neal McDonough brings to the table. With his firmly set jaw, steely blue eyes, and authoritative (albeit occasionally shaky) gait, the actor enhances the emotional persuasiveness of his performance with a distinctive physicality that goes a long way to making the audience believe Joe can handle himself in any situation, whether he’s riding a bull that quite obviously doesn’t want to be ridden, or holding his own in a barroom brawl.
At the same time, however, McDonough conveys sufficient undercurrents of vulnerability to generate sympathy, especially while he’s been being razzed by much younger competitors — including a smugly cocky defending champ played by real-life PBR star Daylon Ray Harrington — and other former admirers who jeeringly insist that he’s stayed at the party too long.
The bull riding sequences are generally convincing, though it’s not terribly difficult to discern where stunt doubles are employed. To their credit, the writers stop short of springing miracles to ensure a happy ending, and actually inject a note of realism with a third-act Plan B that, in real life, real people would have proposed a lot earlier.
Supporting players are well cast across the board, with Williamson wisely tempering his character’s heartfelt exhortations to trust God so that Charlie comes across as supportive, not preachy. Christopher McDonald occasionally evokes memories of the officious host he played way back in “Quiz Show,” which is not a bad thing at all.