Already having been acquired by Sony Pictures Classics before it premiered, Clint Bentley’s debut feature Jockey arrived at Sundance race-ready. The film stars Clifton Collins Jr. as a horse racer facing the twilight of his career, having to come to terms with his aging body’s limitations and reckoning with a young protégé (Moisés Arias) claiming to be his illegitimate son. It is bolstered with a quietly powerful, naturalistic performance, coolly serene visuals, and an ethereal score.

The elegy to the swan song of the athlete isn’t unfamiliar content in cinema (see: Aronofsky’s The Wrestler or Levinson’s The Natural), nor is horse racing (see: Ross’ Seabiscuit or Wallace’s Secretariat), but Jockey takes the oft misunderstood sport featured in the latter films and infuses it with the ennui of the former. It also does this in a way that strikes one as instantly distinctive. The film’s locale of a racetrack in Phoenix, for example, is almost always shot in the wee hours of a morning’s sunrise or just before the evening’s sunset. This renders the hot desert setting in chilly, almost otherworldly tones. Because the film also concerns two athletes in opposing stages of their careers—one just beginning his, the other clearly on his way out—the rising and falling suns become emblematic of that perpetual dance between young students and old masters. At night, when the sun has disappeared, our characters must turn inwards and face themselves. Use of shallow focus and heavy shadows help make sure these scenes are full of treacherous emotional terrain to navigate.

It is such a joy to see Clifton Collins Jr. able to take the spotlight in a project like this. He has turned in some fantastic supporting performances in the past, covering everything from wounded and reserved in Capote, to erratic and menacing in Crank: High Voltage (yes, I’ve been looking to reference Crank for awhile now). As the beleaguered and bruised Jackson Silva, he is a quiet revelation, bringing a weariness that never reads as forced. He is one of the most relatable professional athletes to grace the screen. Likewise, Molly Parker and Moisés Arias give touching supporting performances as they orbit Jackson’s peripheries. And you know what, I’ll say it – this film features some of the best drunk acting I’ve ever seen.

That the story depicted here isn’t an entirely new one could come as a mark against Bentley’s work, but when you take into account the many Sundance films that have treaded on the familiar and the many that are also directorial debuts, you begin to get the idea that one factor may have necessitated the other. Maybe some directors have harnessed “safe” ideas in order to get their careers off the ground. This isn’t to say that they have produced bad films as a result. Recognizable stories, if told with genuine intrigue and refined directorial control can still produce vital films. These films can also propel directors into the public eye and give them the funding they’ll need to later produce their more experimental passion projects.

If nothing else, Jockey should serve as a sturdy springboard for Bentley to launch future endeavours, because everything really is a reflection of masterful control. The editing, cinematography, the colours, and the performances all work in a sincere and elemental harmony, helping define Jockey not by a few standout scenes but by the overall impression it leaves in the end. Jackson’s story is simple, but it is refreshingly grounded, and his succinctly etched character arc makes his humanism easy to latch on to. As I write this, Clifton Collins Jr. has just been awarded Sundance’s US Dramatic Jury Award for Best Actor. Look for the proper release of Jockey soon.