A big heart and fine performances counter clumsy filmmaking in the patchy true life Australian drama The Cup.

This is an example of a great story made into a sub-par film. Australia has a long history of great sporting achievements that have the potential to become great movies, and the story behind The Cup is prime cinematic material if there ever was any. Yet despite its high profile cast, experienced director and big budget, The Cup falters in its attempt to be a Phar Lap for a new generation.

The Cup centres on Damien Oliver (Stephen Curry) the shining star in a family of jockeys who accepts the opportunity to race for Irish trainer Dermot Weld (Brendan Gleeson), who has his eyes set on the coveted Melbourne Cup. When Damien’s older brother Jason (Daniel MacPherson) dies after a tragic accident on the track, a shattered Damien must decide whether he will race in the Melbourne Cup or give up the sport that is in his blood.

Of the many things which The Cup falls short of, the performances from its stacked cast is not one of them. Curry, who is known more for his comedic work in Australian classics such as The Castle and for his turn as Graham Kennedy in TV movie The King, dives into his role of a champion jockey replicating both the physical and emotional attributes needed to make it work.

Also good is Brendan Gleeson, who brings gravitas and key comedic cheekiness to the movie. However the less said about Tom Burlinson’s faux Irish accent, the better.

Burlinson of course starred in Australian horse racing classic Phar Lap, which was helmed by The Cup director Simon Wincer, who seems to have a thing for animals in movies if his filmography is any indication (there are a whopping 5 horse movies alone). 

It has been 3 years since Wincer’s last directing gig, and whatever tricks he had up his sleeve in his glory days now come across as tired and clumsy novelty which distract rather than add to the proceedings. Questionable editing decisions, awkwardly inserted flashback sequences, and pivotal scenes marred by blundering exchanges of dialogue make The Cup feel more like the work of a soap opera director than that of an experienced filmmaker.

Worse is the lack of authenticity felt in scenes supposedly shot in Ireland and the Middle East that are clearly Victoria with a bad makeover, made worse by Bruce Rowland’s caricatured score.

Wincer also swings for sentiment at every given opportunity, and as a result there is a lot of sap to be found in The Cup. But now and again Wincer does hit the right emotional note which reminds that underneath the layers of filmmaking claptrap, this is story that has conviction and heart which will move even those who have no interest in the world of horse racing.

The Cup is a film with championship potential. It just needed a better jockey to steer it in the right direction.