The Black Stallion is a film that has stayed with me ever since I first saw it as a five-year-old in the theatre. Released in 1979, it wasn’t until a year later that I watched it—first with my mother and later with my grandmother, in the theatre. Those memories of sharing this film with them have made it all the more precious to me, especially since many of those who shared that experience are no longer with me. The movie itself captured my young imagination with its stunning depiction of bonding between a boy and his horse, a fascination that had already been kindled by hours spent watching David Attenborough narrate the wonders of our planet.
Directed by Carroll Ballard, The Black Stallion tells the story of Alec Ramsey, a young boy marooned on a deserted island with a wild, black, Arabian horse. What makes the movie so unforgettable is the wordless bond that forms between Alec and the Black. The first half of the film has minimal dialogue, allowing the majestic visuals to take centre stage. Ballard’s direction in these moments is magical—especially the scene where Alec and the Black connect for the first time against the backdrop of a glowing sunset. The beauty and stillness of those scenes are seared into my mind as vividly as though I were watching them unfold in front of me even now.
Kelly Reno, who played Alec, was just 11 years old when he took on the role, and his natural performance helped make the relationship between the boy and the horse feel completely believable. But of course, the real star of the film was Cass-Olé, the Arabian stallion who played the Black. His grace, power, and beauty were breathtaking to watch on screen, and the bond between horse and boy felt as though it transcended the screen. The other horses used for racing scenes were just as magnificent, but none captured my imagination quite like Cass-Olé.
Mickey Rooney’s performance as Henry Dailey, the retired jockey who trains Alec and the Black for the climactic race, added warmth and depth to the second half of the film. The race itself remains one of the most thrilling and beautifully shot sequences in cinema. Even now, I haven’t seen another horse race in film that matches the raw intensity and realism of The Black Stallion’s final race—except, perhaps, Seabiscuit, another favourite of mine. Yet, for all the greatness of the narrative of Seabiscuit, The Black Stallion will always hold a special place as my personal, all-time favourite.
The music in the film, composed by Carmine Coppola, is hauntingly beautiful. Every note lingers, creating a dream-like atmosphere that draws you back into that misty world of ocean air, dewy mornings, and the wild freedom of a horse’s mane flowing in the wind. I can still hum the title music and recall the melodies that accompanied the final credits.
What makes The Black Stallion so poignant to me personally is that it holds memories of every member of my family who once watched it with me. Watching the film was a shared experience that transcended the screen, making it a cherished part of my life. Today, when I think of this film, it’s not just the beauty of the story or the visuals that come to mind, but the deep, emotional connections I had with my mother, my grandmother, my aunts, and others who sat beside me in the theatre all those years ago. It’s more than a movie—it’s a piece of my past, and that’s why it will always be so dear to me.
Watch the End Credits and hear the music in this video: it begins from 1:06 minutes…
Hearts Still Care 