This season, instead of reviewing a book for Women in Ag Magazine, I turned to the screen and watched the 2023 documentary Good Ol Girl, directed by Sarah Brennan Kolb. The film offers an intimate portrait of three modern-day cowgirls—Mandy Dauses, Sara Lemoine Knox, and Martha Santos—each trying to carve out a future in the evolving, and often unforgiving, landscape of American ranching.
“even as it highlights the strength and independence of its subjects, the film doesn’t try to paint them as heroes or victims”
What immediately stands out is the authenticity of the storytelling. Kolb’s camera grants us access not just to ranch houses and pickup trucks, but to the emotional interiors of these women’s lives. Mandy, who is pregnant for the first time, speaks openly about the tension between her desire for independence and her commitment to family. Sara, a young law school graduate, is caught between a future in the courtroom and her roots in rural Texas. Martha, meanwhile, quietly but resolutely attempts to hold her place in an industry that’s increasingly consolidating—and increasingly male-dominated. Their stories are deeply personal, and they’re told without gloss or sentimentality.
Visually, the film is beautifully shot. Sweeping aerial images of the Texas landscape are intercut with more intimate moments—dusty boots, the controlled chaos of a cattle chute, or the quiet solitude of a woman checking fences.
Where Good Ol Girl shines is in its ability to draw you into these women’s world without pretension. Folklorist Joyce Gibson Roach lends occasional commentary, rooting their experiences in a broader tradition of female ranchers who have long operated just outside the mainstream spotlight. Yet even as it highlights the strength and independence of its subjects, the film doesn’t try to paint them as heroes or victims. They’re just women—working hard, worrying about bills, making decisions, and hoping they’re the right ones.
That said, the documentary isn’t without its limitations. Viewers looking for a deeper dive into the systemic challenges women face in agriculture may find the film a bit surface-level. Issues like land inheritance, gender bias, and financial precarity are present, but mostly hinted at rather than confronted head-on. In many ways, the documentary feels like a snapshot—a beautifully composed one—but a snapshot all the same. It ends without much in the way of resolution or narrative closure, leaving the viewer with more reflection than conclusion.
Still, for readers of Women in Ag Magazine, Good Ol Girl offers plenty to appreciate. It’s a moving, honest film that captures a side of agriculture rarely seen on screen. It’s especially resonant for anyone who’s ever felt torn between duty and desire, legacy and change, or the past and what comes next. While it may not provide all the answers, it asks the right questions—and that, in itself, is valuable.
Good Ol Girl is a heartfelt tribute to the grit and grace of women in agriculture. I recommend it not only for its visual and emotional depth but as a conversation starter. Watch it with your mother, your daughter, your neighbors, or your colleagues—and then talk about what it means to be a “good ol girl” today.
This review was published in the summer issue of Women in Ag Magazine.
