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The story of the most dominant racehorse of all time does not easily fit into the standard inspirational sports flick mold. Such films typically require its protagonists to overcome seemingly insurmountable obstacles, be they competitive (Hoosiers), personal (The Natural), societal (Ali), or some combination of all three (Remember the Titans). But by all accounts, the greatest challenges to Secretariat capturing of the 1973 Triple Crown were not rival horses — indeed, Secretariat had no true rival — but a pair of slow starts and an abscess. And abscesses — apologies to dermatologists — simply aren't all that effective as dramatic devices.

Lacking most of the vital ingredients of the traditional underdog movie formula, Disney's Secretariat is forced to synthesize them. Its screenplay, written by Mike Rich and based rather loosely on the book Secretariat: The Making of a Champion by William Nack, adopts a conventional save-the-farm framework: When her parents pass away within months of each other, Denver housewife Penny Tweedy (Diane Lane) is advised to sell off her family's Virginia-based Meadow Stables, a beautiful but unprofitable horse-breeding enterprise, in order to pay the onerous inheritance taxes levied by the state. But Penny, her deceased father's hackneyed horse-inspired counsel fresh in her mind ("You've got to run your own race," etc. etc.) is loath to depart with such a cherished heirloom. So she concocts a scheme just idiotic enough to work, betting the farm — literally — that her new horse, Big Red, in whom she has an almost Messianic faith, will win the Kentucky Derby, Preakness, and Belmont races in succession.

Of course Big Red, under the stage name Secretariat, goes on to do just that, but only after the film subjects us to nearly two hours of manufactured melodrama. Lane, grasping all-too conspicuously for awards consideration, treats every line as if it were the St. Crispin's Day speech. Her character, Penny, exhibits a hair-trigger sensitivity to the sounds of skeptics and naysayers, bursting forth with a polite rebuke and a stern sermon for anyone who dares doubt her crusade, from the trash-talking owner of a rival horse to her annoyingly pragmatic husband (Dylan Walsh).

Lane isn't alone in her grandiosity. The entire production reeks of it, as director Randall Wallace lines the story with fetid chunks of overwrought Oscar bait, like so many droppings in an untended stable, even using Old Testament quotations and gospel music to endow Penny's quest with biblical significance. John Malkovich is kind enough to inject some mirth into the heavy-handed proceedings, hamming it up as Secretariat's trainer, Lucien Laurin, a French-Canadian curmudgeon with an odd sartorial palette. It's not enough, however, to alleviate the discomfort of witnessing the film's quasi-Sambo depiction of Secretariat's famed groom, Eddie Sweat (Nelsan Ellis), which reaches its cringeworthy zenith when Sweat runs out to the track on the eve of the Belmont Stakes and exclaims, to no one in particular, that "Big Red done eat his breakfast this mornin'!!!" Bagger Vance would be proud. Whether or not Ellis' portrayal of Sweat's cadence and mannerisms is accurate (and for all I know it may well be), the character is too thinly drawn to register as anything more than an amiable, simple-minded servant.

Animal lovers will be happy to know that the horses in Secretariat come off looking far better than their human counterparts, and not just because they're alloted the best dialogue. In the training and racing sequences, Wallace effectively conveys the strength and majesty of the fearsome animals, drawing us into the action and creating a strong element of suspense, even though the final result is a fait accompli. It's too bad the rest of the film never makes it out of the gate. rated this film 2 stars.