By Ed Symkus

An upstart young rider confronts an aging jockey. Yet there’s nary a cliché.

Jockey, directed by Clint Bentley. Opens at the Kendall Square on January 28.

Molly Parker and Clifton Collins Jr in a scene from Jockey. Photo: Sundance Institute

On one level, Jockey, the first feature film from director Clint Bentley, is about Jackson, a veteran rider and local legend who is racked with job-related injuries, but is looking for one last shot at glory before his body makes him give up his career.

On another, one that has nothing to do with the story being told, it’s about the man who plays Jackson — veteran actor Clifton Collins Jr. His name may not be of the household variety, but his face has been all over TV monitors and movie screens for about three decades, mostly relegated to series guest spots and ensemble parts. His most notable supporting role until now has been as the real-life killer Perry Smith in the 2005 film Capote. But if enough people see what he does with his lead role in Jockey, his name will garner much deserved recognition.

Set on a racetrack in Phoenix, the film is a study of the jockeys and trainers who dedicate everything they’ve got to the sport of racing, and they do so from early-morning workouts right through to relaxation time at dusk. Of course, there’s also the racing, most of which, in the case of Jockey, is saved for the film’s climax.

A lot is revealed concerning how the sport — and the business of it — is run, warts and all. But it’s more of a people movie, focusing on what goes on in the professional lives of jockeys. And they do not have easy lives. One of the joys they share is the camaraderie among them, the friendly talk ranging from the excitement of riding on a great horse to attempts at comforting each other when dealing with constant injuries, which they accept as being part of the game.

Jackson loves what he does, but circumstances have led to his back being broken three times, arthritis is setting in, and he has an aversion to seeing doctors. That makes up some of his physical predicament. The emotional side, which takes center stage here, begins when a shy, young wannabee jockey named Gabriel (Moises Arias, who played Rico on Hannah Montana) shows up, unannounced, at the stables with stars in his eyes, some riding talent, and three words he says to Jackson during a private moment: “I’m your son.”

The rest of their brief conversation goes as follows:

Jackson: “That’s not possible.”

Gabriel: “I’m not asking for anything.”

Jackson: “Don’t go around telling people you’re my kid.”

That meeting leads to the development of an uneasy but ever-shifting relationship between the two men. But there’s another alliance of equal importance, that of the business association between Jackson and Ruth (Molly Parker, who played Alma on Deadwood), the boss-woman at the stables. It’s established that their many years together have resulted in a true friendship. Ruth depends on Jackson for his riding and training expertise, but she’s very concerned about his welfare, which he is putting at risk.

The two-hander scenes between Collins Jr. and Parker, and between Collins Jr. and Arias — whether they’re mentor and student or competitors going at each other — are what make the film especially compelling. There’s the added reward of an extra layer of authenticity supplied by a cast peppered with real jockeys and trainers who speak genuine racing slang.

Given the setup, there are plenty of opportunities for clichés to rear their heads. But that fate is miraculously evaded because of insightful character studies and poignant plot turns. This small, intimate film covers a lot of familiar dramatic territory, but it still crosses the finish line a winner.

Ed Symkus is a Boston native and Emerson College graduate. He went to Woodstock, is a fan of Harry Crews, Sax Rohmer, and John Wyndham, and has visited the Outer Hebrides, the Lofoten Islands, Anglesey, Mykonos, the Azores, Catalina, Kangaroo Island, and the Isle of Capri with his wife Lisa.

His favorite movie is And Now My Love. His least favorite is Liquid Sky. He can be seen for five seconds in The Witches of Eastwick, staring right at the camera, just like the assistant director told him not to do.