East of Wall, 2025.
Written and Directed by Kate Beecroft.
Starring Tabatha Zimiga, Porshia Zimiga, Scoot McNairy, Jennifer Ehle, Jesse Thorson, Chancey Ryder Witt, Clay Pateneaude, Leanna Shumpert, Brynn Darling, Wyatt Mansfield, Stetson Neumann, Traden Lockwood, Don Gummer Garnier, Renee Mousseaux, Brett Fly Sr., Ryan Caraway, Haley Strode, Lori Ann Reed, Amy Shedeed, Angela Heinze, Tracey Osmotherly, and Janis Schell.
SYNOPSIS:
After the death of her husband, Tabatha- a young, tattooed, rebellious horse trainer- wrestles with financial insecurity and unresolved grief while providing refuge for a group of wayward teenagers on her broken-down ranch in the Badlands.
Set in the Dakota Badlands world of rodeos and horse auctions (with marketing through TikTok of all places), writer/director Kate Beecroft’s East of Wall succeeds with striking authenticity and immersion. A significant part of that comes from the film functioning as a leisurely paced piece of docu-fiction, prioritizing the fractured relationship between mother Tabatha Zimiga and teenage daughter Porshia, both playing fictionalized versions of themselves, which likely has a great deal of truth sprinkled in, considering the phenomenally organic and lived-in emotions they bring to the material and especially their interactions together.
The aim for something palpably real doesn’t stop there, as a plethora of supporting characters surrounds the duo, typically other riders or wayward teenagers that Tabatha has taken in, playing characters matching their actors’ names. There are also some traditional actors here, one of whom is Jennifer Ehle playing a drunken, tough-loving yet understanding grandma, to drive home a generational aspect to these family dynamics. That grandmother also has an interaction with Porschia and a single line that succinctly and amusingly sums up these dynamics: “good talking to you, baby girl, now f***off.”
East of Wall is also a film that says much about its characters through its arresting visuals (such as aerial shots of the craggy terrain and craters within the Badlands), aesthetics, and score (courtesy of cinematographer Austin Shelton and composing team Lukas Frank and Daniel Meyer O’Keeffe), whether it be some of the horse riding footage captured and shown off through TikTok clips, trick-poses while horseback intended to show off how well behaved, calm, and suitable they are for purchasing (think Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater with the horses functioning as skateboards), the unsupervised shenanigans these teenagers get up to which are very specific to the setting and characters, or the fact that Tabatha and Porshia have the same hairstyle (one side shaved in front, while still allowing for length on both sides) but different colors, as if to imply just how similar they are even if they are butting heads and currently at a crossroads.
Some time ago, Porshia’s father tragically died young, and the aftermath of that is still reverberating throughout this family. Tabatha has given up riding and exclusively focuses on selling horses to pay for the family ranch. She also hasn’t spoken of him since and isn’t processing that grief, whereas her other children routinely visit his grave. On top of that, Tabatha is also raising a newborn alongside her current partner, Clay (Clay Pateneaude). As for the horse-selling business, it’s going well since, in the words of others, Tabatha can diagnose, treat, and tame any of them. It’s her area of expertise, and she is scarily skilled at it. One could also perceive the numerous teenagers from broken homes she allows to stay with her (at one point battling for custody of a boy whose parents are dead) as a metaphor for those horses and her ability to care for and breathe new life into broken beings.
And while Tabatha has been modestly successful, she hasn’t necessarily been revered as, say, a man would in the same position. Scoot McNairy’s Roy Waters brings this to her attention with an offer to purchase the ranch, along with some reassurance that she will remain in charge and able to live on the land. Naturally, it’s an offer that requires some pondering, with one questioning the nobility of his motives. Roy doesn’t come across as a malicious person and has some traumatic baggage of his own to carry around, but there do appear to be insecurities at play, with him potentially taking advantage of the situation to buy success.
The above subplot is the most familiar element at play here, and one that gives Tabatha and Porshia something to inevitably see eye to eye on while working through their conflict, pain, and grief (with the former externalizing it and the latter holding it in). Whatever has gone on in the real lives of this mother and daughter is not something to be concerned with. Still, there is a sense that it paves the way for some raw interactions not only bursting with feeling, but sometimes feelings these characters don’t necessarily want to show in front of one another, as if it would make them appear to be weak in a harsh-environment upbringing.
East of Wall is at its most emotionally absorbing when mother and daughter blur the lines between reality and fiction. Even beyond them, this often feels less like watching a movie and more like observing a community either not typically seen on screen or reduced to stereotypes when they are. It’s a beautiful slice of modern Western life.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder
