Any western worth its dusty boots and big-sky openness should know what’s breathtaking about freedom, at the same time grasping how being tamed is an uneasy, clarifying rite of passage. That men have typically led these stories means there’s a lot still to be mined when women tackle this genre — both in front of and behind the camera — and in “East of Wall,” about a struggling ranch matriarch (Tabatha Zimiga) with a headstrong daughter (Porshia Zimiga), writer-director Kate Beecroft has found a worthy modern story of cowgirl hardiness near South Dakota’s Badlands.

That air of independence and restriction applies also to what “East of Wall” itself is: a narrative centered on first-time actors playing versions of themselves in a story shaped from their lives, in this case the joys and sorrows of the Zimigas’ open-plains existence rescuing, riding and selling horses, and dealing with financial uncertainty after the loss of a loved one.

When Chloé Zhao took the docu-fiction approach with her melancholy 2017 neo-western “The Rider,” the blended realism and dramatic choreography achieved something heartbreaking, reawakening the hybrid’s possibilities. Beecroft’s solid-enough first feature isn’t as effortlessly transcendent — the seams show a bit more. But there’s plenty of lived-in warmth in its accumulation of details and it gives needed voice to the concerns of women forging their own way in an environment that isn’t exactly kind on anyone.

Very quickly, we’re swept up in what’s loose, chaotic and appealing about tough, tattooed horse whisperer Tabatha and her rough-and-tumble operation, which includes her own children — Porshia is already a rising rodeo star — and various teenagers from this strapped region’s broken homes, plus her hard-bitten mom (Jennifer Ehle), who enjoys her peach moonshine. There’s an unruly found-family charm that belies what’s isolating and rundown about their situation and Austin Shelton’s vista-friendly cinematography does a good job contrasting that beauty and severity, especially in Tabatha herself, an earthy, battle-hardened goddess with a head half-shaved and half-draped with golden hair, and kind eyes rimmed with mascara. She always looks ready to calm a bronc, knock back a beer or tell you off.

Tabatha’s reputation for breaking wild steeds and supporting wayward kids is legion and her sales methods lean toward the unconventional: TikTok videos that frame horses at full speed against ravishing backdrops, and at barn sales, showcases that spotlight her girls’ performing skills. Money is tight, though, and the sting of her husband’s suicide a year earlier has put a grief wedge between Tabatha and Porshia as each tries to imagine what the future holds. That’s when an observant, dogged Texas rancher with his own baggage (Scoot McNairy) shows up with a tempting lifeline that puts everyone’s ownership of their fate in stark relief.

“East of Wall” lives in that indie space of wanting to respect and vibe equally, which means there’s a little too much slo-mo montage and, considering how invested we are in this family, not enough memorable scene work. But even with the thinnest of narrative framing and some arty touches that feel superfluous, there’s an overall portrait of authentic grit and resilience here, of knowing when to hold on and when to let go, that is well-nurtured by Beecroft’s admiring eye for these renegade women.

Nothing against McNairy and Ehle who play well with the first-timers, but there are moments when you wonder if Beecroft should have straight-up made a documentary, foregoing the harnessing of scripted incident for the rawness of what drew her to these people and this world in the first place. Which is another way of saying mother and daughter Zimiga are real finds, true-to-themselves keepers of a heartland tradition, and fresh faces getting to tell that story in a nontraditional form.