Spirit Untamed

The 2002 film Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron occupies a strange, sacred space in the hearts of Millennials. It was a hand-drawn, sweeping epic about the American frontier that somehow convinced everyone that a horse narrated by Matt Damon—who didn't actually talk—was a serious piece of cinematic art. Fast forward nearly twenty years, and we get Spirit Untamed. It’s a film that exists in a state of permanent identity crisis, caught between being a theatrical event and a feature-length upgrade of the Netflix spin-off series Spirit Riding Free.

I watched this while trying to scrape a stubborn piece of dried gum off the bottom of my desk with a ruler, and honestly, the rhythmic scratching provided a more consistent tension than the film’s supposed "perilous" mountain passes. That’s the hurdle here: Spirit Untamed isn't trying to be the majestic, Oscar-nominated predecessor. It’s aiming for something much smaller, much safer, and significantly more glittery.

The Great CG Downgrade

In the current era of animation, where we’ve been spoiled by the painterly textures of Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse or the staggering realism of Pixar’s later works, Spirit Untamed feels like a bit of a relic. Despite coming from DreamWorks—the studio that gave us the visual splendors of How to Train Your Dragon—this film looks like it was rendered on a communal office laptop during a lunch break.

The world is bright and colorful, sure, but it lacks the soul of the original. There’s a flat, plastic quality to the characters and the environments that screams "direct-to-video," even though it landed a theatrical release during that weird, shaky post-pandemic window of 2021. For a film centered on the wild, untamed beauty of the frontier, the landscapes feel weirdly claustrophobic. You never quite feel the wind in the mane or the dust in the air; you mostly just feel the clean, sanitized edges of a digital asset library.

A Voice Cast Overqualified for the Job

What’s truly baffling is the sheer level of talent assembled in the recording booth. Isabela Merced leads the charge as Lucky Prescott, a headstrong girl sent to live with her estranged father in the sleepy town of Miradero. Merced brings a genuine spark to Lucky, making her more than just a "spunky protagonist" archetype.

Then you look at the supporting cast and start wondering who at Universal has photos of whom. We have Oscar-winner Julianne Moore as Aunt Cora, and Jake Gyllenhaal—fresh off playing a multiverse-hopping villain—as Jim Prescott, Lucky’s grieving father. Gyllenhaal is particularly interesting here; he’s doing his best "earnest dad" voice, but the script gives him so little to work with that he occasionally sounds like he’s reading a furniture assembly manual.

The camaraderie between Lucky and her new friends, Pru (Marsai Martin) and Abigail (Mckenna Grace), is the film’s strongest asset. Their chemistry feels modern and authentic, representing the contemporary push for more diverse, girl-centric adventure stories that don’t revolve around a prince. Walton Goggins shows up as the villainous Hendricks, a horse rustler who is basically a walking cowboy cliché, but Goggins can do "charismatic sleaze" in his sleep, so he’s always a welcome presence.

The Pandemic Release and the IP Squeeze

Spirit Untamed is a fascinating case study in how franchises are managed today. In the early 2000s, a sequel would have tried to escalate the original’s stakes. In 2021, the goal was clearly different: brand maintenance. The film is essentially a retelling of the first episode of the Netflix show, scaled up for a slightly larger screen.

It was released when theaters were still struggling to find their footing, and it disappeared from the cultural conversation almost instantly. It’s a "forgotten" film because it feels designed to be forgotten—a 88-minute placeholder meant to keep the Spirit name active on streaming algorithms. It lacks the "event" feel of a blockbuster, settling instead for being a cozy, harmless distraction for kids who have already exhausted the Riding Free series.

The adventure itself—a journey to save a herd of wild horses from a steamboat—has moments of charm, but it never reaches for the epic. The stakes are low, the resolutions are easy, and the emotional beats are telegraphed miles away. Yet, for its target audience of "horse girls" and younger children, it hits the marks. It’s about finding where you belong and standing up for those who can’t speak for themselves. It’s sweet, it’s earnest, and it’s entirely disposable.

If you have a seven-year-old who currently lives and breathes ponies, Spirit Untamed is a perfectly acceptable way to spend an afternoon. It’s colorful, well-intentioned, and features a catchy soundtrack that will inevitably get stuck in your head. However, if you’re looking for the artistic ambition or the frontier-spanning heart of the original 2002 classic, you’re going to find this stable a bit empty. It’s a modest adventure that plays it far too safe to ever truly run wild.