"Okay, I Literally Just Watched That New 'Horizon: An American Saga' And I Think It Broke My Brain, Not Just My Bladder"
So, I did a thing. A dumb, masochistic thing that I will now force you all to vicariously live through. I went to see Kevin Costner’s cinematic hostage negotiation, “Horizon: An American Saga – Chapter 1.” Yes, the one where the runtime is longer than the average American attention span and the average American marriage. I walked in thinking, “Hey, it’s a Western. It’s Kevin Costner. He did ‘Dances with Wolves.’ How bad could it be?”
Reader, I was wrong. I have seen the face of God, and it is a dusty, three-hour-long PowerPoint presentation about manifest destiny with absolutely no payoff. This isn’t a movie; it’s a cry for help from a man who spent $100 million of his own money and is now probably living in the back of a pickup truck, whispering “Chapter 2” into the wind.
Let’s break this disaster down, because I need to process the trauma.
First, the runtime. 181 minutes. That’s three hours of your life you will never get back. That’s longer than the entire original “Star Wars” trilogy. It’s longer than the wait at the DMV. It’s longer than the line at Disneyland for the ride that breaks down right before you get on. And for what? For a movie that feels like it was edited by a drunk uncle with a pair of scissors and a grudge against plot.
The pacing is a war crime. You get these gorgeous, sweeping shots of the Montana landscape, and you think, “Okay, this is beautiful. Maybe it’s a meditative epic.” Then you get twenty minutes of Sienna Miller staring at a tree, then a ten-minute scene of Costner looking rugged while a horse farts in the background (I swear to God, that horse had more charisma than anyone in the cast). Then, out of nowhere, a massacre happens. Then, back to the tree. It’s like a Pavlovian experiment designed to test how much boredom a human can withstand before they just start chewing their own arm off.
And the characters? Oh, boy. The characters. There are like, forty of them, and I couldn’t tell you a single name besides “Costner’s Character” and “The Other Guy With the Hat.” They introduce a new town, a new family, a new subplot every fifteen minutes. It’s the cinematic equivalent of a “Game of Thrones” season 8 fanfic written by someone who has never met a human being. You’ve got the pregnant lady, the angry soldier, the stoic Native Americans (who are, shockingly, given zero depth), and the evil white guys who just love killing for the sake of it. It’s like a Mad Libs of Western tropes.
And can we talk about the dialogue? I’m pretty sure Costner wrote this while binge-watching old John Wayne movies on mute. Every line is either “This land is hard,” or “We gotta make a stand,” or “Them’s fightin’ words, partner.” It’s so on-the-nose, I’m surprised the actors didn’t get nosebleeds. It’s the kind of writing that makes you miss the subtlety of a Michael Bay film.
But the real kicker? The cliffhanger. This is a *Chapter 1*. They literally stop the movie in the middle of a siege. No resolution. No arc. Just a big, fat “To Be Continued” slapped on the screen after three hours of dust. It’s like reading a book and having someone rip out the last 200 pages. It’s like ordering a pizza, getting the box, opening it, and finding a single, sad, cold breadstick inside. Costner is literally holding your movie ticket hostage until you pay for Chapter 2. And you know what? I’m an idiot, I probably will. Because I need to know if that pregnant lady survives. I need to know if Costner gets his revenge. I need closure, goddammit!
But here’s the real question, the one that keeps me up at night: Is it so bad it’s good? Like, is this the next “The Room”? Or “Plan 9 from Outer Space”? The answer is a resounding no. “The Room” is hilarious because it’s authentic incompetence. “Horizon” is just... boring incompetence. It’s a vanity project that forgot to be a movie. It’s a three-hour-long LinkedIn post about how Kevin Costner is a visionary.
I saw it in a theater with maybe eight other people. One guy fell asleep. He snored so loud during a quiet scene that the guy next to him threw popcorn at him. It was the most dramatic moment of the entire film. Another lady started openly weeping during the credits. I don’t think they were tears of joy. I think she was mourning the time she wasted.
Look, I get it. We’re all starved for original, epic cinema. We want the next “Dances with Wolves” or “Unforgiven.” But “Horizon” isn’t that. It’s a bloated, self-indulgent mess that thinks it’s a masterpiece because it’s long and quiet. It’s the cinematic equivalent of a guy at a party who won’t shut up about his screenplay.
Am I the asshole for saying this? Am I just a philistine who can’t appreciate a slow-burn, high-art Western? Maybe. But I’d rather watch “Cats” on repeat for 24 hours than sit through “Horizon” again. At least the cat people had a sense of urgency.
So, save yourself. Buy a ticket for “Inside Out 2.” Watch “Tombstone” for the 50th time. Do literally anything else. But if you’re a glutton for punishment, if you’re the kind of person who enjoys watching grass grow or staring at
Final Thoughts
Having covered the industry for decades, I've seen the cycle repeat: the article's dissection of modern cinema’s reliance on IP and nostalgia isn’t just a critique of laziness, but a lament for a lost willingness to take risks. The real tragedy isn't that franchise films exist, but that the space for mid-budget, original storytelling—the very lifeblood that once allowed a film like *Jaws* or *The Matrix* to feel like a revelation—has been squeezed nearly to death. Ultimately, the most important lesson here is that while technology and spectacle can dazzle an audience, they can never replace the raw, unpredictable thrill of a movie that has something truly new to say.