This flop never stood a chance of succeeding without Elizabeth Taylor's involvement, and if Liz ever saw this script she probably read 10 pages and winged it out the window with a noxious chuckle. What is meant to be a continuation of National Velvet, one of the best movies of the 1940's, is really a typical piece of slapdash 70's cinema. Any ties this story has to the original National Velvet, you feel, were contrived in re-writes to try and cash in in on some kind of marquee recognition. A film about equestrian riding starring Tatum O'Neal circa 1978 was only going to appeal to horse lovers and 12 year old girls.<br /><br />The story is hardly even or focused. The running time of 127 minutes could have been trimmed by at least a half hour to get rid of a pointless would-be romantic subplot, a potential gang rape, and about 15 minutes of endless riding shots (supposedly set at the Olympics of 1980, but the producers use footage from the 1974 opening ceremonies in Munich).<br /><br />Nanette Newman is adequate as Velvet Brown but her involvement in the story offers little more than comforting moral support for the first half of the film. She and beau Christopher Plummer are pretty much left behind when trainer Anthony Hopkins comes on the scene. Hopkins does a decent job with his role but still doesn't manage to breathe into the production more than a flicker of life. O'Neal is utterly cold and unsympathetic as the plucky teenage heroine. And like the pseudo-named author he creates in the film, Plummer phones his over-cheery performance in from long distance to collect a pay check. <br /><br />The only thing this film has really going for it other than Hopkins is the scenery.