Extremely dull drama starring a very young Roddy McDowall, who trains a wild horse, the Flicka of the title, and is the only reason for watching the movie in the first place. Coated in blaring, overbearing music and weighed down by schmaltzy dialogue, this is one of those interminable films that bores you to the point of a gnawing headache. The naffly-titled sequel, 'Thunderhead, Son of Flicka', in which McDowall trains the next generation of nag, is marginally better than the original but the pace remains slow and the score continues to pummel you into submission, although there are at least one or two scenes that don't induce a coma.