Directed by Ricky Staub
Written by Ricky Staub and Dan Walser
Starring Idris Elba, Caleb McLaughlin, Jharrel Jerome, Lorraine Toussaint
Rated R for language throughout, drug use and some violence
Runtime: 1 hour 51 minutes
Streaming on Netflix April 2

by Ryan Silberstein, Managing Editor, The Red Herring

Even as someone who has lived in the Philadelphia area (growing up in the Far Northeast) my whole life, I didn’t become aware of the Fletcher Street Urban Riding League until quite recently. While urban horseback riding has a tradition that is at least a century old, the current incarnation of the club was founded in 2004, and garnered headlines for having to deal with the city’s redevelopment plans a few years later. 

Anytime a film is set here and is actually filmed here is novel enough for me to check out based on that fact alone. Sometimes the movie is great (Creed) and sometimes the movie stars Nicholas Cage (National Treasure). Other times the movie is not good but gets quoted a lot in my home (Silver Linings Playbook–fun fact, I drive by the diner used by the film all the time!). So I will eventually watch Last Call out of obligation. Anyway, the one thing all those films have in common is a focus on the city’s white spaces. For a city that is 40% Black, that’s disappointing. 

At minimum, Concrete Cowboy acts as a corrective to that. This story is told on the streets I typically only experience by car or from windows on a train. The look of those parts of the city–strewn with empty lots that are makeshift parks and cars that seemingly don’t move–is represented here. Thankfully, it isn’t demonized or portrayed as scary. Ricky Staub shows these parts of the city to be filled with people trying to get by as best they can. 

The film is clearly based on a young adult novel (Ghetto Cowboy), meaning that it doesn’t go hard on nuance. It focuses on the story of Cole (Caleb McLaughlin), a teenage boy going to stay with his estranged father (Idris Elba) after getting expelled from school due to his inability to resist a fight. Staub mostly keeps the film framed from Cole’s perspective, validating the boy’s feelings even as we see the distance between father and son. 

As a film, it works through its familiar story structure fairly well, the rhythms and turning points are much as would be expected. Cole has to clean the stables, learn to appreciate his place in the world as he tries to understand his father and not fall into the criminal path like his childhood friend Smush (Jharrel Jerome). Thankfully, it manages to do so in a way that feels lived in, rather than feeling like poverty tourism. 

While most of Concrete Cowboy is perfectly fine–the handheld camera style sometimes distracts rather than adding immersion–there are moments, here and there, where something stronger surfaces. Most notably, when these Black cowboys (most real cowboys weren’t white, look it up!) are riding the streets of Philadelphia, and are seen from the windows of a bus. Set at sunset, that magic hour lighting casts its spell, and a mix of personal recognition and awe washes over the faces of children and adults alike. It’s damn near Spelbergian, and it just works. Hopefully Ricky Staub finds even more of those moments in his next film.