McCarthy’s story has all the earmarks of a mythic hero’s journey: In 1949, after the death of his mother, young Cole and his buddy Lacey cross over the border into Mexico on horseback in search of a large ranch on which they can be cowboys forever. Along the way they meet Blevins, an even younger kid who may or may not have stolen the beautiful horse on which he is riding. (Blevins is played by Lucas Black, who played the young boy in Billy Bob Thornton’s first directorial effort, Sling Blade; he is absolutely terrific in this latest performance as a hard-luck kid who acts tougher than he really feels.) Eventually, they wind up on a huge ranch at which they land a job breaking wild horses. Cole falls in love with the owner’s daughter (Penelope Cruse), but after her grandmother (Miriam Colon) finds out, Cole and Lacey are arrested for horse theft and put in a violent prison run by corrupt officials.

The movie feels more like the Cliffs Notes version of the book than a whole new work in and of itself. Thornton efficiently takes us through most of the book’s main events, but at such a pace that we never really learn to care much about what’s going on. And he all too often resorts to convenient visual and plot cliches to keep things moving. Cole’s affair with Alejandra, for example, is unconvincing and dull, the stuff of soap operas. All of the subtlety of McCarthy’s sinuous, deft prose is bled out, making the story seem stilted and rickety.