Actor Neal McDonough Enters The Arena For The Last Rodeo

Neal McDonough isn’t the type to kiss and tell. Indeed, the veteran actor doesn’t like to kiss anyone on screen.

Which is why, he explained to C&I in a 2020 interview, his resume lists so many bad guy roles.

“We all know why I play the villains, right?” he said. “Because if I play the good guy, I’d almost always be doing some kissing scenes or sex scenes or all that kind of stuff, which I won’t do. So I had to play villains, right? That’s been my career for 15, 20 years, or least since I met my wife.

“It’s like, these lips are meant for one lady, and that’s [Ruvé McDonough]. So I have to be really creative in my death scenes and the characters that I take, to make sure that they’re always kind of different. Because if I just play the same villain every time, well, my career is not going to have much longevity.”

In recent years, however, McDonough has managed to veer away from the villainy he’s  conveyed so vividly in such TV series as Desperate Housewives, Justified, Yellowstone, Arrow, and Tulsa King.

He played a straight-shooting lawman named John Breaker in the INSP-produced westerns The Warrant (2020) and The Warrant: Breaker’s Law (2023). More recently, he appeared in the post-apocalyptic drama Homestead as a wealthy and self-absorbed doomsday prepper whose worst fears are realized in the wake of an unthinkable cataclysm, but who eventually winds up on the side of the angels when he’s persuaded to aid other survivors by his deeply religious wife (Dawn Olivieri).

This coming weekend, McDonough can be seen at theaters and drive-ins everywhere as the incontestably sympathetic protagonist of The Last Rodeo, an affecting and involving drama — produced in association with the Professional Bull Riders Association — that has him cast as Joe Wainwright, a retired bull rider who risks a comeback for a worthy cause.

Joe backed away from the arena after a near-fatal close encounter with an especially ornery bull. But that was before his young grandson Cody (Graham Harvey), the son of his long-estranged daughter Sally (Sarah Jones), required expensive medical treatments that Sally’s insurance could not begin to cover. With the reluctant assistance of his buddy Charlie (Mykelti Williamson of Forrest Gump and Chicago P.D.), a seasoned bull fighter, and despite Sally’s strong objections, Joe signs on to compete for a humongous payday in a legends contest as the oldest contestant in history.

While making The Last Rodeo with director Jon Avnet (Fried Green Tomatoes, Up Close & Personal), McDonough embraced rodeo culture so enthusiastically that he and his wife joined the ownership group behind the Austin Gamblers,  2024 Champions in the PBR Teams league. “Neal, our five children, and I love everything about bull riding,” says Ruvé McDonough. “PBR has become our extended family, and we are so happy the Austin Gamblers are now part of our immediate family.”

But wait, there’s more: Ruvé also agreed to help her husband skate around his No Kissing Allowed rule for movie roles by appearing as Joe Wainwright’s late wife Rose, a cancer victim, during flashback scenes in The Last Rodeo. McDonough spoke with us about that casting coup, and much more, during his recent visit to the C&I Studio. Here is a transcript of highlights from that conversation.

“Neal, I’m curious—how did that conversation go when you told your wife, ‘I’d like you in the movie, but for the most part, you’re going to be dead’?”

Well, Ruvé’s not an actress. She never wanted to be. But she’s been by my side every step of my career for the last 25 years. When I was shooting another Western, The Warrant, I was feeling homesick—I'm just not myself without Ruvé and the kids. Everyone asks why I play great villains: put me on the road for a bit, and you’ll get a villain out of me.

One day, while looking out over the pastures, the idea for The Last Rodeo came to me. I’m not this smart—it was a gift from above. I saw a vision: a man, a grandfather, getting back on a bull after a 15-year hiatus to save his grandson, all while dying from the same thing that took his wife. That thought hit hard.

So I told Ruvé: “Here's my chance to be the hero, to kiss the girl in the end—and I want that girl to be you.” And I added, “As you know, I won’t kiss anyone else.” She wasn’t thrilled at first, but I said, “Honey, I can’t do the film unless you’re in it.” And she said yes. She was fantastic. That emotional core—our story—was the heart of the movie.

“Looks like the rodeo bug has bitten you pretty hard. You’re now a co-owner of the Austin Gamblers?”

Two years ago, I knew nothing about bull riding. But when I fall in love with something, I dive in completely. That’s just who I am. I could eat the same restaurant dish for 20 years if I love it. And I fell in love with the PBR.

Sean Gleason, who runs the PBR, is incredible. His wife Candis and my wife Ruvé hit it off immediately. When the folks at the Austin Gamblers asked me to be part of the team, I was floored. I’ve always dreamed of being part of a professional sports team—never imagined it’d be bull riding, but I’m grateful beyond words.

What sets PBR apart? It starts with a prayer and ends with applause—no booing, no fighting. Just families cheering together. It’s pure Americana. My dad emigrated from Ireland, enlisted immediately, and became the proudest American I’ve ever known. Those values—faith, family, patriotism—define the PBR. That’s why I love it so much.

“What kind of training did you go through before filming? I assume you weren’t actually riding the bulls in the arena?”

No, Jon Avnet (our director) wouldn’t let me get in the arena. But I trained hard. He worked me over on mechanical bulls for months. I had the great Kyle Sherwood as my stunt double and coach. He’s a real rider and was a stickler for detail.

I didn’t want anyone in the bull-riding world to think I was faking it. So I trained daily—tying ropes, studying hand placement, riding a saddle in my hotel room. Kyle and stunt coordinator Buddy Joe Hooker made sure I got it right.

Sean Gleason introduced me to the Robo Bull in Tulsa—a mechanical bull on a moving platform. When I got thrown, I smashed into that platform repeatedly. My body took a beating, but I loved it. At 58, I was like a kid in a candy store. I didn’t want anyone saying, “McDonough didn’t do it right.” So I made sure I did.

“What surprised you the most about immersing yourself in rodeo culture?”

How well the bulls are treated. These bulls are absolute stars. They get massages, the best food—you name it. They’re treated better than actors! And they’re smart. After their ride, they know exactly where to go.

But what really struck me was the culture. I’ve always loved the cowboy way, even growing up in southern Massachusetts. But to experience this culture of faith, respect, and family—it moved me.

Before every event, families hold hands and pray—not just for the riders, but for our troops and each other. You don’t hear a sound in the arena during that prayer. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced at a sporting event. It’s changed me.

“Have you reached a point in your career where you’re looking for roles beyond the villain? Maybe the hero—or at least someone who doesn’t shoot at the hero?”

I always wanted to play the hero. When I saw The Sting as a kid with my brother, I wanted to be Paul Newman. Later it was Butch Cassidy, The Cowboys—those were my guys.

But early on, because I wouldn’t do intimate scenes, I got slotted into villain roles. So I said, “Fine. I’ll be the best villain I can and support my family.” And I did that.

But The Warrant changed everything. People said, “Hey, you look good in a cowboy hat. You understand these characters.” And Angel Studios had faith in me. That led to The Last Rodeo. It’s not a massive budget—$8.5 million—but we built something beautiful with it.

Now, with Homestead, The Shift, and others, I’m playing the kind of roles I dreamed of as a kid. And yes—I get to kiss the girl at the end!

“What do you hope audiences take away from The Last Rodeo?”

At its core, this isn’t just a rodeo movie. It’s about a fractured relationship between a father and daughter. That hits home for me. I’ve got three daughters. No parent-child relationship is perfect—but we strive.

Joe Wainwright, the character I play, works to rebuild that bond. And that, more than anything, is what this movie is about. Family. Faith. Forgiveness.

We set out to make a movie that gives glory to God, family, and America. And we did it. Everyone pitched in—my wife, our kids, our crew. It’s the proudest project of my career.

“What did you learn from this experience, personally?”

That no one is perfect. We all have flaws, and overcoming them is where the beauty lies.

Ten years ago, I gave up drinking. That was tough. After what happened to me, there wasn’t a bottle I didn’t reach for. But through God’s grace and Ruvé’s love, I came out the other side.

This film reflects that journey. These characters—Joe, Sally, Charlie—they're all flawed. But they grow. They heal. And they do it through faith. That’s what I hope people see: that even in brokenness, there’s a way forward.

“Is that what the three fingers mean?”

That’s a McDonough family thing. It means “I love you.” When I’m on stage or on camera and flash those three fingers, my family knows I’m thinking of them. It started as an inside gesture, but now—maybe it can mean love to more people.

“One last thing: any chance of a third Warrant film?”

I hope so! I love playing John Breaker. Part 2 really dialed into who that character is. Brent Christie is a great director, Gary Wheeler is one of the best producers I’ve ever worked with, and INSP has been an incredible partner.

If it’s up to me, I’d make 10 more Warrant films. So hey—readers: after you finish this article, send a note to INSP and let them know—we need more Breaker.