blew. big. chunks.


Where to start, where to start...?

Had some hopes for this one after seeing the commercials, but boy...if you haven't already seen it, please, don't waste a couple hours of your life. Knowing you didn't will take some of the sting out of my own wasted hours.

Just a few sample things that any decent scriptwriter would've known not to do:

1. As Hitchcock would've put it, this film is all about cheap mystery, not suspense; it simply withholds information from the audience to keep them waiting until the end. If you haven't read about the distinction between mystery and suspense in Truffaut's book-length interview of Hitch, do yourself a favor and read the whole book. Now _that_ would be time well spent.

2. Brosnan runs into the woods, lays a trap (I guess) for his pursuers by making a fire and lurking outside the reach of the light, back in the trees. So what do the expert trackers do? Why, walk right up to the fire--in the only place they'd be easily visible in the entire forest--and sit there waiting for Brosnan to come back (they think), when even if things had been exactly as they believed, he'd have spotted them a hundred yards away. Uh-huh.

3. Just before that, when Brosnan holes up for the night at a cabin where he's taken prisoner, sort of, but also taken care of after trying to steal a horse, the man of the house comes home and is furious. Man tells Brosnan that up in the high country, a man without a horse is a dead man. Brosnan insists he was going to pay for the horse, and is still willing to pay. Man says, oh, yeah? Well, if you have all that money, why don't you just walk on down to the closest town? That's right, friends. Ten seconds ago I was telling you how you're dead if you don't have a horse. Now I'm asking this guy why he doesn't just walk. Not only that, I'm making some connection nobody understands about how having gold coins makes it more feasible for him to walk on. What?

4. Clearly knowing what kind of person Neeson is and what he's capable of, Brosnan holds the lone remaining co-tracker of Neeson's in front of him as a hostage. About the time I'm thinking "Why would Brosnan think Neeson wouldn't just shoot the guy himself? Why would he think Brosnan would want to keep this guy alive so badly that he'd let the object of his obsession (Brosnan) go to preserve his (the compatriot's) life?", Neeson shoots the guy in the chest. Well, duh. Yeah.

5. Inexplicably, Anjelica Huston (who obviously needs to pay the rent, along with Brosnan and Neeson, I guess) shows up in the middle of a big dry lake bed. Brosnan, covered in dirt and looking desperate, walks up to her wagon. She says she'll give him one bullet in trade for his horse. Yeah? Hey, lady, how about I take your bullet, then steal your wagon and both horses, because I'm trying to save my life here? Are you freaking kidding me? I'm going to trade away my horse for one bullet, let you drive happily away, and then go on trudging in the desert, near death? Shyeah. That's gonna happen. Just to double up on the stupidity, she makes a similar deal with Neeson's character, who also obliges her by not yanking her off the wagon and stealing everything she has, or at the very least holding her hostage long enough to get a ride on the damn wagon. I mean, seriously.

OK, I have now spent way too much time on this steaming pile of cinematic doo-doo. Really. The only reason I'm doing it is that it actually makes me furious to think about the arrogance of a project like this, all the money that went into it, the ready-made venue (AMC), etc.--as if you can forget about a script or any sense of comprehensibility or plausibility of storyline, if you just spend enough money on the other stuff.

And by the way: How does Wes Studi's Native American character have the Cherokee look (hat and pipe) out there in the middle of a Western desert?

The whole thing is preposterous, irritating, and arrogant--a story full of holes, trying to drive itself along purely on withholding information from the audience and spending loads of cash on star power. Phffffft. Save your time, trust me.

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1. The movie has plenty of suspense throughout.
2. What a contrived objection.
3. The point was he could make it to town if he tried, but it would be impossible to actually live out there without a horse. They're also alot poorer than Brosnan's character and don't have the money to get another horse.
4. You've just gone from the beginning of the film to the ending. You say the film is so bad but you have nothing to say about nine tenths of it. Brosnan just acted out of instinct to protect himself. This was obvious.
5. Neither character are outlaws, they are shown to be essentially good hearted and well mannered. Stealing the wagon and horses from her would be out of character.
6. Only Cherokee can wear hats and smoke pipes?...

it actually makes me furious to think about the arrogance of a project like this


LOL. There is no substance in your objections to this film.

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[deleted]

>> I don't know which is worse -- the OP missing the fact that reality had been departed deliberately or you for trying to defend a reality that wasn't even supposed to be there. <<

Which is worse? The other guy, of course.

Why? Because it is not a "fact" that reality had been dumped, but merely a reading--one that you attempt to establish by evidence, to your credit. Actually, I'm not disputing the notion that the screenwriter may have intended this, based on what you say. But if Satan appears in human form, even that scenario has to have its own logic. And what is it? Only two broad possibilities are suggested:

1. That she actually is a physical being, as Satan incarnate. If so, she can be killed for her wagon, horse, arms, and supplies. Why wasn't she? Or why didn't either character even attempt to give himself an advantage by (as I said earlier) taking her horse and wagon, all her ammunition and/or guns, etc., at gunpoint? How does the idea of her being Satan in human form--to the extent that she _is_ human--preclude the questions I was asking, when Jesus, as God incarnate, obviously could be killed, taken captive, etc.?

2. That it was all some kind of mutual hallucination or a shift into spiritual reality. If so, when did we depart from physical reality and physical events? What marked that departure, and when (if ever) did we re-enter physical reality? What meaning do the other plot events around this time and afterward have, if the whole scene with Huston is on another plane? How do they still have the stuff she gave them, later on?

(A third possibility: The name doesn't indicate that she _is_ Satan, but that she is _like_ Satan, as it does with many other characters in film and literature. Angel Clare, for instance, in Tess of the D'Urbervilles, isn't a real angel but a human whose actions resemble those of an angel, or so we're supposed to think for long stretches of the novel. I forget which film I saw not too long ago in which a dog is named "Satan," but clearly is not intended to represent an incarnation of a spiritual being.)

Point is, your scenario, if true, only shifts the problem of illogic to a different ground, and it also highlights further the illogic of the writing. So the screenwriter is going to move to a different kind of plane with different rules (can't be killed, is/is not spiritual, etc.), but the only indications we're going to get are the "Louise C. Fair" name (wink, nudge) and the same kind of silliness that has marked the screenplay throughout? Well, I guess so--like the sophomore in a creative writing workshop who considers himself clever for inventing names to indicate "deeper meaning," but who hasn't thought through the internal logic of the fiction he's creating. It's superficial and silly.

I think it was Ebert who, in some review that escapes my memory, was talking about how even in a sci-fi or fantasy film, events need to have a consistent logic, a kind of "story logic." Fantasy is not mere mayhem. If you're going to include a fantasy element (I don't think this qualifies as magical realism, even--much too high a concept for this kind of nonsense) in a film that is otherwise grounded in real-world historical verisimilitude, it's a sign of bad writing to let that fantasy element be an excuse for illogic as opposed to a shift into logic of its own. Given what we know about the characters in SF by the time Huston shows up, and given either the fact that this either we've has to be a physically real character or that we've shifted into some kind of metaphysical realm, what's the logic behind the writing? Or was this just a superficial reach toward "spiritual meaning" with the simple introduction of a name on a wagon?

And no, I'm not overthinking this. It takes a simple rewrite. If you want to imply that Huston is an incarnation of Satan and that this is why the characters do things that no real person in similar circumstances would do, figure out how you're going to do that without being simply arbitrary. That's what they pay you for.

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[deleted]

Yeah it sounds like they're trying to use the "it's magic, we don't have to explain *beep* " explanation. Not good enough!

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It is very much obvious that she represents the devil. I never stated or implied otherwise.

if you think there is absolutely no substance to his objections you've got your head somewhere without oxygen... the film clearly departs from reality as it progresses.


You must have difficulty reading. I disagree that it is a cheap mystery and lacks suspense. I disagree that the film is riddled with holes from the beginning. I disagree with the cynical nitpicking. I thought the film was excellent and has a powerful, creative ending. But, each to his own.

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Well, if you're determined to like it no matter what, more power to you. But as for having "no substance," to quote another film character, "I do not think it means what you think it means." (Here's an example of "no substance": "What a contrived objection." [No specifics, nothing more than that.])

To address your responses, as concisely as I can:

1. Not with regard to what motivates the entire plot--the fact that Brosnan is being chased for something. Go read what Hitchcock has to say about this sort of thing in the Truffaut interview. You can't possibly make this point unless you're using some more broad and generic definition of "suspense" that you might find in a general dictionary rather than as skilled directors and screenwriters use it.

2. How is this "contrived"? Because you say so? Address the substance if you're going to respond. Why would Neeson and his men plant themselves in the exact spot where they're guaranteed to be seen, knowing that this was almost certainly Brosnan's fire?

3. I'm not saying the father doesn't have good reason to refuse to sell the horse. Not even the point at all. I'm saying that somebody should've spotted the apparent contradiction between saying, in almost the same breath, "up here, a man without a horse is a dead man" and "why don't you just walk to town [without a horse]?" (my paraphrases). The fact that an explanation of the apparent contradiction can be constructed post facto is not the point; the point is that screenwriters shouldn't make viewers struggle to resolve such a contradiction for no particular reason (or, alternatively, to expect them not to be listening).

4. The reason I don't comment on "90%" of the film (your estimate) is that I don't have time to write ten more pages on the various problems with the script. As I said at the beginning, these were "only a few sample things that any decent scriptwriter would've known not to do." You do know the difference between "samples" and "the whole thing" or "exhaustive deconstruction of every scene," right?

As for Brosnan "acting out of instinct," maybe--but then, that excuse could be used for any irrational action of any character. He was upset, he wasn't thinking straight, he was acting out of instinct, etc. If his instincts were as sharp as we were supposed to believe they were, as the writer had set up in other scenes with Brosnan's intelligence--all under duress, all while running for his life--why did he do something that made so little sense in this scene? For a writer, there should be a point to such a departure. Here, apparently, there is none.

5. "Neither character were outlaws [sic]"? Really? I'm not even sure how to address this, since I think you've completely misread Neeson's character, at least. If Neeson was "good-hearted and well-mannered," how come he'd kill his own co-trackers? And regardless, even if he hadn't done that, the whole motivation for his character is his obsessive need to kill Brosnan. You think that simply taking the wagon, horse, arms and ammunition, and provisions from Huston at gunpoint to give himself an insurmountable advantage in the pursuit, and then releasing her unharmed later on, would've been _more_ bad-hearted and ill-mannered than the things he'd done before in the story?

6. False dichotomy. No, not "only" Cherokees, etc.; notably, some of the northern Great Plains natives did too, often when they were attending some meeting or function involving white people, or when being honored by the government or some other white-man organization. But the natives of the great expanses of the desert West typically did not wear them and especially would not wear them in the desert heat (you can find more typical headgear for Pauite, Shoshone, and Washoe online if you like). So if you're costuming for this film, why would you do something against type, without any explanation for it? Or, again, if you're departing from the typical, shouldn't there be some point to that? To anybody who recognizes the oddity, it comes off as a costumer and/or director who doesn't know the difference. To be more unkind, I guess, it comes off as somebody who thinks one Indian is just the same as another, like the directors who just need "African tribesmen," as if there were no difference between Masai and Yoruba, Xhosa and Kikuyu. Or like the people who think there's no difference between Irish and Scottish (that one, I've had cast at myself more times than I care to remember). It's just one of those details that it takes almost no effort to get right; it takes sending a gofer to ping around a few websites for half an hour, and they'd have their answer. Instead, it's just "I saw an Indian with a stovepipe hat once, and wouldn't it add just so much character and texture to do that with Wes Studi?" Yup. It also would add character to have seven-foot Xhosa with long spears jumping straight up and down like Masai, if you think your audience won't know the difference (or if you yourself, as director/producer/whatever, don't know the difference). This is emblematic--or, as I said, a "sample"--of the kind of inattention to substance that characterizes the whole film.


What really gets under my skin about this film is that it has a great "look," the Western landscapes are gorgeous, and you have all that star power--but it smacks of the kind of project where everybody thought style over substance was just fine.

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Wes Studi plays Charon. So I assume the two protagonists are crossing the river styx here.

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>> Wes Studi plays Charon. So I assume the two protagonists are crossing the river styx here. <<

I'm missing the reference. I know who Studi is and I really like his work. What's the connection with the Styx?

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I agree with the posts above that this film all gets a bit weird near the end and it doesn't quite fit.
It first seemed this way when Wes Studi's character turns up at that watering hole kinda place near the end.
Then we have all the stuff with Angelica Hustons character which has been explained above.
So then I noticed Studi plays Charon in the cast list.
Charon is the ferryman across the river styx in Greek myth, and you have to pay him to cross over.
So both the protagonists pay him to cross over into the desert/underworld whatever. I guess the film maker is saying they are already dead.
Doesn't quite make sense that we have Charon and Lucifer, switching from Greek to Judeo Christian, but I guess this is a movie so they can do whatever they want.
But I think Studi being Charon is relevant so I thought I'd mention it.
Just watched it on BBC IPlayer.

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Yeah, I understand the whole Styx-and-Charon thing. Sounds pretty plausible when applied here. And it's not the least bit rare for screenwriters--particularly subpar ones--to mix and match various forms of religious and cultural imagery, as if it were all in one box. Ugh.



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Yeah Studi is quality I agree, great in Heat and Last of the Mohicans, thats why his name stood out for me in the cast list at the end.

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AWESOME in Last of the Mohicans. Also in Dances with Wolves.

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Brilliantly put!

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But of course. ;-)

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Big chunks of greatness, maybe.

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Hey, different strokes. Maybe I missed it.

As Edward R. Murrow used to address fans who mailed critical remarks to him: "Dear Sir or Madam: You may be right."

I just need to do that more.

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Your an idiot...

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