THE LAST ANGRY MAN (1959, Daniel Mann)

 

* * * * 

A cantankerous New York City doctor unwittingly becomes the first ever reality TV star.

Starring  Paul Muni, David Wayne, Betsy Palmer, Luther Adler, Claudia McNeil, Joby Baker

Written by  Gerald Green

Produced by  Fred Kohlmar

Duration  100 minutes

 

 

In 1998, a new sitcom aired on BBC 2 called The Royle Family. Written by two of its stars, it centred around the everyday lives of a 'normal' working class family in the North of England.

This sitcom was a little different. Not only did the action mostly take place in the Royles' house, we hardly ever left the living room, where the family would chat while lounging around watching television.

Critics rounded on the concept. Who on Earth is going to sit watching their telly when all it's showing is people sat watching their own telly? Nevertheless, The Royle Family was a big hit. Being well-written, funny and having a talented cast certainly helped.

Fast-forward to 2013. Channel 4 introduces a new reality show named Gogglebox (an antiquated British term for the television). In this show, which is still going strong today, 'normal' people sit around watching TV and making comments while we watch them from the television's POV. Much like The Royle Family, the viewer feels like a fly on the wall; or, more accurately, a fly that's landed on the TV screen and sits there staring out at the viewers.

But there are three key differences between The Royle Family and Gogglebox. The first is that we cut between clips of the shows (or movies or documentaries or news broadcasts) they've been watching and the goggleboxers' quippy, allegedly spontaneous reactions. Secondly, we visit multiple households, as if we ourselves are channel surfing. (Which is a good thing to start doing whenever Gogglebox comes on, but I digress.)

It's the third difference that's the most crucial. Gogglebox is not well-written or funny and the people on it are not gifted comedic actors. They're obnoxious, witless and charmless, offering only banal and trite observations, delivering these non-insights in ways that seem designed to be as annoying as possible.

Gogglebox is a clear low point in popular culture. Its existence suggests a reverse-evolution theory for the human race. Obviously, reality TV is always garbage. But Googlebox is garbage that's been left out in the sun for several weeks.

But what kicked off the journey that led us to this nadir of nadirs? I don't mean what was the first reality show; that was probably MTV's The Real World in 1992. I mean, who was the first to speculate that perhaps there could even be a beast as hideous as reality TV?

Previously, I'd believed that it was Albert Brooks, with his brilliant 1979 satire REAL LIFE. But now I'm thinking that maybe the first artistic work to propose the reality concept was actually 1959's THE LAST ANGRY MAN.

In his final screen performance, former SCARFACE Paul Muni plays grouchy but dedicated neighbourhood GP Dr Sam Abelman. A pair of local hoodlums trust him enough to drop their injured ladyfriend on the doorstep of his Brooklyn brownstone in the early hours one morning. The neighbours get out of bed to watch the doc be surly ("You still owe me for your father's hernia operation!") while at the same time acting as the beating heart of the community. He clearly cares for all who cross his threshold – no matter the hour, affliction or the patient's capacity to pay.

The next day, we meet a television producer with the painful-sounding name of Woody Thrasher (David Wayne, THE ANDROMEDA STRAIN). Woody is desperate to thrash out a fresh angle for the TV show he's been pitching to his higher ups, and is intrigued when he reads an article doc Abelman's reporter nephew has published about last night's doorstep drama.

He tracks the good doctor down and proposes that he be the subject of a new programme. "Live television, from your house!" Thrasher gushes. "We'd visit with you – your family, your patients."

In the best hero's journey refusal-of-the-call tradition, Abelman won't play ball. But luckily, his enterprising nephew can better smell the opportunity and is determined to make a TV show with his 'Uncle Doc' happen.

Back in the TV station's offices, we get a flavour of how Thrasher wants his show – named Americans, USA – to play out. "Real people doing real things," he tells his boss. "Useful, dramatic lives! People whose every waking minute is drama!"

Ol' Thrash is a career man, but he seems honest enough. He's drawn to Abelman's passion, the man's integrity and dedication. He genuinely thinks that this physician will make great TV. But his paymasters, the studio's sponsor Gattling Pharmaceutical, instead see a chance to peddle their drugs using the eccentric but trusted medicine man as a vessel. Thrasher feels uneasy, but is pragmatic and moves forward with the plan.

So into Doc Abelman's home come the director and his crew, along with their '50s-era cameras and audio equipment. Thrasher has to explain to the family and sick people that they aren't playing parts or expected to act, but that they should just be who they are and do what they usually do. This is definitely an alien concept for everyone involved – including the movie's 1950s audience. 

As a result, and through no fault of its own, THE LAST ANGRY MAN is pretty slow and laboured in its set-up. It reminded me of when you read a classic novel like Dracula or The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and have to patiently wade though pages of people speculating about exactly what this strange new creature could possibly be.

When they get to the actual filming, it doesn't look much different to a standard TV programme. There's blocking, sound checks, multiple cameras, retakes ... it's really more like a news broadcast. There's little attempt to lead the subject, and a presenter fronts the action, interviewing Abelman and then talking straight to camera. They don't just start rolling and let the events unfurl. But at the same time, there isn't any of the selective editing or participant manipulation that we've come to expect from the modern reality genre.

Anyway, Americans, USA has barely been on air five minutes before the good doctor is going off script and badmouthing the pharmaceutical companies he's supposed to be praising, calling them peddlers of unnecessary medicines who are only concerned with lining their own pockets. Which doesn't go down well. Gattling Pharmaceutical wanted someone on TV who's 'real'; Dr Abelman is just too damn real!

And when Thrasher's conscience catches up with him and he warns the doc to change his tune or the network pulls the plug, which would deny Abelman the spoils coming his way (the network promised him a new house as payment), the principled GP tells the TV man to stuff his programme, and the same to all the 'galoots' who are behind it.

The movie turns out not to be a satire, which of course I never expected – how can you satirise reality TV before it's even been established? In the end, THE LAST ANGRY MAN is less about reality vs fiction and the mechanics of television than it is a two-hander between Muni and Wayne, playing a pair of very different men who learn a lot from each other and both grow as a consequence. I liked it.

Which is just as well, because if I'd've come away having drawn a direct line between it and Gogglebox, we'd be talking about Last Movie Reviews' first zero-star verdict. Maybe minus stars.

Four stars out of five.

Valid use of the word ‘last’?  Our principled doc does seem to represent a dying breed, in the face of the unethical standards of TV and his fame-hungry nephew. So, he's the last something.

What would a movie called THE FIRST ANGRY MAN be about?  In terms of the most angry man, also in a movie that's also about television, you'd have to go for Peter Finch as derenged broadcaster Howard Beale in NETWORK (1976).

 

Previously:  LAST NIGHT

Next time:  THE LAST KING OF SCOTLAND 

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com

LAST TRAIN FROM GUN HILL (1959, John Sturges)

 

* * * * 

The death of his wife at the hands of his old friend’s son puts a lawman on a collision course with the man with whom he once rode.

Starring  Kirk Douglas, Anthony Quinn, Carolyn Jones, Earl Holliman, Brad Dexter

Written by  James Poe

Produced by  Hal B Wallis  

Duration  90 minutes

Here we go! John Sturges. One of the great western directors, up there with John Ford, Sergio Leone, Clint Eastwood, Sam Peckinpah and Howard Hawks. THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN, anyone? GUNFIGHT AT THE OK CORRAL? Not to mention that Bank Holiday perennial, all-star WWII epic THE GREAT ESCAPE. Stephen King even named the town in The Dark Tower: Part 5 ‘Calla Bryn Sturgis’ after Sturges, acknowledging his book’s similarities to MAGNIFICENT SEVEN.

Now, I’d never heard of Sturge’s LAST TRAIN FROM GUN HILL, which is nestled somewhere in the middle of the great man’s career. But I was certainly familiar with its leads.

Kirk Douglas has one of those iconic cinema faces, seemingly carved out of marble. SPARTACUS is, for me, Stanley Kubrick's weakest post-THE KILLING film, but man that's a legendary role for Kirk. (Side note: PATHS OF GLORY, the pair’s other team-up, is one of Kubrick’s best.) My favourite Douglas performance is in Billy Wilder’s black-as-coal media satire ACE IN THE HOLE, and he has no trouble being convincing in locales as diverse as ships on the sea (VIKINGS) and ships in space (SATURN 3). And he lived until 103, the bloody trooper.

Then you’ve got Anthony Quinn. I’ll always think of him as a comedy mobster in LAST ACTION HERO and for portraying a much more menacing villain as the cuckolded husband in Tony Scott’s REVENGE, but he too had a storied and celebrated decades-long career, winning two Oscars and popping up in the likes of LAWRENCE OF ARABIA, THE GUNS OF NAVARONE and LA STRADA.

Here, the two titans play former friends who are now on opposite sides of the law. It’s a solid dramatic setup, also used for William Holden and Robert Ryan in Peckinpah’s THE WILD BUNCH, and again with Nick Nolte and Powers Booth in EXTREME PREJUDICE from another westernphile, Walter Hill.

In LAST TRAIN FROM GUN HILL, Douglas is the good guy US Marshall, first seen joking around with the local kids outside his cop shop. His mood worsens considerably when his own son turns up, distraught, to tearfully lead pop into the woods, where his mother/Douglas’s wife has been raped and murdered by a couple of whisky-swigging cowboys. 

Not only that, but one of the rapist-murderers turns out to be the son of Tony Quinn’s wealthy-but-dodgy cattle baron. So Douglas jumps on a train to Quinn’s ends, Gun Hill, and arrests the boy – but when Tony stands in his way, he has to pivot into a local hotel and wait it out with his hostage until the next train arrives, putting the two old buddies into a tense standoff. Douglas’s only ally in this hostile town is Carolyn Jones's feisty dame, a bitter ex-lover of Quinn and the only Gun Hillian willing to stand up to the man who effectively runs the whole place.

Douglas’s granite determination to see justice done in the face of passive local authorities is well-matched by Quinn, who has the more complex role. He retains a fondness for Kirk from all the years they’ve known each other and actually views his own son with distain – in general, for a lack of character, and specifically for his recent abhorrent actions. And yet family is family, so the crooked rancher is driven by loyalty to protect his offspring from what he knows the boy deserves morally; added to this, Tony can’t lose face in the town that shudders before his name.

The story is elegantly simple and doesn’t mess about, all taking place in less than 24 hours and with Douglas’s determination to get his prisoner onto the final train of the day providing a ticking clock. There’s a thrill in seeing this man commit to his task with laser focus and steely resolve, like the Terminator with a badge. "You, you're breaking the law!" one cowardly citizen splutters at our hero. "I am the law!" the Marshall spits back. (The creators of 2000 AD's ‘Judge Dredd’ strip must have been taking notes.)

All in all, while LAST TRAIN FROM GUN HILL may not be one of Sturges’s better known efforts, it’s a compelling tale with suspense to spare that can hold its head up high among its more celebrated peers.

Four stars out of five.

Valid use of the word ‘last’?  Absolutely: the film literally ends with the train pulling away.

What would a movie called FIRST TRAIN FROM GUN HILL be about?  A lot more on what Douglas got up to on the journey into the town than what he does after arriving there. The newspaper crossword puzzle, maybe? Did they have them back then?

Previously:  I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER

Next time:  THE LAST MAN ON EARTH

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com

THE LAST HURRAH (1958, John Ford)

 

* * * 

The veteran mayor of a New England city embarks upon one last no-holds-barred mayoral campaign, using whatever means necessary to win once again.   

Starring  Spencer Tracy, Jeffrey Hunter, Dianne Foster, Pat O’Brien, Basil Rathbone

Written by  Frank S Nugent   

Produced by  John Ford

Duration  121 minutes   

   

 

Sick Boy: "It's certainly a phenomenon in all walks of life."

Mark Renton: "What do you mean?"

Sick Boy: "Well, at one time, you’ve got it, and then you lose it, and it’s gone forever."

Mark Renton: "So we all get old and then we can’t hack it anymore. Is that it? That’s your theory?"

Sick Boy: "Yeah."

 

That exchange is from mainline-chasing slice of Edinburgh wit TRAINSPOTTING. Now, it’s been a while since I read the book, but I’m pretty sure this dialogue was invented for the film by screenwriter John Hodge (in one of the greatest ever novel to film adaptations), just like Sick Boy’s Sean Connery fixation.

That means it would have been shortly after the film’s release in 1996 that Quentin Tarantino heard these words – and you can be certain that he did go and see TRAINSPOTTING, cinephile that he is. This would have been during the lull after the one-two punch of RESERVOIR DOGS and PULP FICTION, when QT was escaping into his Elmore Leonard back catalogue, trying to drown out his increasing anxiety that having avoided a sophomore slump, surely he wouldn't be so lucky with his third film ( ... a senior slump?)

It wasn’t until 2012 during press for DJANGO UNCHAINED that Quentin revealed that he intends to only direct 10 films, clarifying subsequently "I like the idea of leaving them wanting a bit more... I want to go out while I’m still hard."

So I’m certain that the Tennessee native would have nodded along with Sick Boy’s claims while he sat there watching the quirky little British movie everyone was talking about. But I’m equally sure that the writer-director already had a list of directors whose careers he wanted to emulate – but whose finales he wished to avoid.

Was he thinking of Sam Peckinpah? CONVOY had been a paycheque job, and though a successful one, it was hardly THE WILD BUNCH. But THE OSTERMAN WEEKEND was just a total mess and an embarrassing note to go out on. Or how about Billy Wilder? Did the legend who made DOUBLE INDEMNITY, THE LOST WEEKEND, SUNSET BOULEVARD, ACE IN THE HOLE, STALAG 17, SOME LIKE IT HOT and THE APARTMENT really limp to the finish line with THE FRONT PAGE, FEDORA and BUDDY BUDDY?

Or maybe, just maybe, Tarantino was thinking of John Ford.

THE LAST HURRAH was not Ford’s final credit. But it’s widely seen as the start of his career descent, having peaked with THE SEARCHERS in 1956 and with nowhere left to go from there but down. There would not be another MY DARLING CLEMANTINE or THE GRAPES OF WRATH or RIO GRANDE, with only 1962’s THE MAN WHO SHOT LIBERTY VALANCE considered on par with his past glories.

Was Ford pondering issues of being over the hill when he took the job? Because the plot would bear this out, being that it concerns a veteran in his field trying to stay relevant and keep at the top of his game.

(Ford has a producer credit on LAST HURRAH, too – the only producer credit, there aren't even any of those amorphous ‘executive-’ or ‘associate-’ or ‘co-’ ones. When a director does this, does it mean that he cares more about the project? Obviously, that’s the case if he wrote the script, but surely producing is a sign that it's more than a job for hire – otherwise, wouldn’t all that extra work be far too much hassle?)

There are distinctly CITIZEN KANE vibes early doors, with Spencer Tracy playing an elected figure introduced to much fanfare and newspaper headlines. In fact, Orson Welles was reportedly considered for the character but never got back to Ford in time. But it’s just as well, since Tracy owns the role. All I knew about him going in was that he won two Oscars in a row (a feat not repeated until Tom Hanks in the ’90s) and that he was romantically involved with Katharine Hepburn. But now I recognise him as absolutely more than just the answer to a trivia question.

Here, he essays the part of the curmudgeonly but charming mayor with gusto, and although I wouldn’t say that I was on the edge of my seat throughout all the political dealings and manoeuvrings (it’s kind of like a proto-House of Cards), not only was Tracy clearly fully committed to the cause – like Ford, he was in the twilight of his career – but his director showed that he still had a steady hand and masterful control over the material.

And this after Ford had more than 100 films under his belt (counting several early ‘lost’ efforts)! I guess they made ’em outta sterner stuff back then; nevertheless, if THE LAST HURRAH is anything to go by, QT may be wide of the mark in worrying that his prowess behind the camera will inevitably fade once his output reaches double digits. 

Bring on the 40-years-later legacy sequel to RESERVOIR DOGS in 2032, I say!

Three stars out of five.

Valid use of the word ‘last’?  Any film where the protagonist dies at the end (oh – spoiler alert, I guess) can be classed as pretty definitive.

What would a movie called THE FIRST HURRAH be about?  A much more youthful Tracy, galivanting around in an open-top car, possibly with Katharine on his arm wearing one of those Jackie O headscarves (she, not he).

Previously:  THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS

Next time:  THE LAST SAMURAI

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com

THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS (1954, Richard Brooks)

 

* * 

An American journalist settles down with a beautiful woman in mid-20^th Century Paris, but not all is gay in Paree.

Starring  Van Johnson, Elizabeth Taylor, Walter Pidgeon, Donna Reed, Roger Moore

Written by  Julius J Epstein, Philip G Epstein, Richard Brooks   

Produced by  Jack Cummings

Duration  116 minutes   

According to Amazon Prime, theirs is the ‘unedited original version’ of THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS. OK, so what’s the difference? The internet yielded no answers, so I’m left speculating. 

Was there once a clamouring to see the director’s definitive version, like with BLADE RUNNER or NIGHTBREED? If so, why was it held back from us and how has it changed?

Or, is it like how my DVD of THE LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT (1972) declares that it is ‘uncut for the first time in the UK?’ But what exactly could have been so scandalous in a movie from 1954 that it had to be sliced out? Was there too much of Elizabeth Taylor’s ankle shown, enough that Richard Burton burst into the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer lot in a drunken rage and demanded that all the offending footage be burned, and only after his death in 1984 (right after making 1984) did prints with those two inches of white flesh restored see the light of day?

The mystery rages on, but judging by the terrible quality of the Prime version, I’m deducing the subtitle to mean that it’s from some kind of original print. This may get cinema historians’ knickers twisted up into a pretzel, but my reaction was that I hadn’t seen such poor quality since the video nasty-era of dodgy copied VHSs. Obviously this movie is nothing like I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE or THE DRILLER KILLER – however, I will admit that, by the end, I was almost hoping for Abel Ferrara to leap out and put me out of my misery by going nuts on the cast with a raging Black & Decker.

Yes, having now sat through the thing, I can’t for the life of me see why any version of THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS would warrant celebrating.

It’s based on material by F Scott Fitzgerald, which is encouraging, or rather it was before I watched the movie. Beyond the novels like The Great Gatsby (good), Tender is the Night (bad) and The Last Tycoon (unfinished), Fitzgerald also churned out loads of short stories.

Those bite-sized fictions were dismissed by critics as cash-grabs rather than having any artistic merit, but I very much enjoyed his ones set in Hollywood. They revolve around down-and-out alcoholic screenwriter Pat Hobby, once known as ‘a good man for structure’, now reduced to hanging around the studio lot like a discarded piece of a long-forgotten set dressing. Check them out! 

Anyway, it’s one of Fitzgerald’s other 150-odd short stories that THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS is based on. The story has American journalist Van Johnson feeling driven to stay on in Paris as WWII comes to a close (in Europe, at least) when he gets caught between the lanes of Donna Reed (wowzer) and her sister, Liz Taylor (double wowzer). What a dilemma – it’s kind of like the arduous bind Rene Zelweger faces in BRIDGET JONES’S DIARY: how to choose between dashing, suave, rich Hugh Grant or suave, dashing Colin Firth, who also isn’t short of a few quid.

So, Van swerves his way around his first world problems in post-Second World War France. One really feels for his plight, as he endures hardships like Liz snuggling up to him on a bench at dawn beside the Seine and whispering to him, ‘I like the way you kiss me.’

After meandering around for ages in search of some conflict, the movie takes a sudden dive into heavy-handed melodrama. We skim through the years at quite a clip, with a succession of failed novels leading wannabe-writer Van to the bottle, which fuels his resentment for his effervescent wife as he inexplicably steers himself away from one of the most desirable women who ever lived.

Then, before Van can give his head the MOT it sorely needs, his suspension gets truly fucked when the neglected Liz starts fooling around with a baby-faced Roger Moore, playing a dashing young tennis pro. And then, she only goes and dies of pneumonia, in an incident that’s pretty much Van the Man's fault, sending him into the head-on collision of a custody battle for their daughter against her aunt – who, you'll recall, our lunkheaded hero part-exchanged back when it looked like this movie might actually have some decent mileage.

THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS is the answer to the question, ‘What if CASABLANCA had been two hours of Rick and Ilsa's French flashbacks, except they got married and ended up being miserable?’ Not something I think anyone's ever pondered.

It’s exhausting stuff, and I’m left with only enough energy to plead that the next time Hollywood decides to adapt Fitzgerald, instead of another tepid tale like this or taking a stab at Gatsby yet again, we get something a bit more light-hearted. So how about that Complete Adventures of Pat Hobby then, eh? Ah, go on!

Two stars out of five.

Valid use of the word ‘last’?  By the end of the movie, Van has his daughter back in the passenger seat and is adamant that they will take the exit ramp away from France for good and motor off to a new life back in America.

What would a movie called THE FIRST TIME I SAW PARIS be about?  For me, it was circa 2000 on a school trip; Disneyland Paris, too. What a time.

Previously:  THE LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT

Next time:  LAST KNIGHTS

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com

THE LAST POSSE (1953, Alfred L Werker)

 

* * * 

A New Mexico town forms a posse to go after a rancher who robbed another rancher; none of the ranchers are jolly by the end.

Starring  Broderick Crawford, John Derek, Charles Bickford, Wanda Hendrix

Written by  Seymour Bennett, Connie Lee Bennett, Kenneth Gamet

Produced by  Harry Joe Brown

Duration  73 minutes   

When I was at school, I think it was in Year 9 English, we had to come up with questions for a survey and use them to poll our classmates. Probably we had to then write up the results into some kind of discursive essay, I don’t remember. What I do remember is that my survey was about films (natch) and it included finding out which genre of film was the most popular.

Seeing that this was the mid-’90s, I'm certain that I didn’t put ‘superhero’ as a choice – ah, sweet, merciful nostalgia. But among the actions and romances and comedies and horrors, western was in there. And came in rock bottom.

Westerns were old. Westerns were slow. Westerns were boring. My student polling came post-DANCES WITH WOLVES and UNFORGIVEN, and although I’m certain I had seen and enjoyed those award-winning movies by then, my views that day still concurred with my peers’.

Westerns were used to clog up the afternoon TV schedules, always skipped straight past when channel surfing. No one played ‘Cowboys and Indians’ in the playground when I was little. My generation was the one that was supposed to flock to WILD WILD WEST in 1999 – what were Barry Sonnenfeld, Jon Peters and Will Smith thinking?

Today, having widened my cinematic pallet, I know better. I know that just like any genre, the western has its good and bad entries, its different stylistic eras, its straight and skewed interpretations. Nevertheless, I still approached THE LAST POSSE with trepidation; happily, my caution turned out to be unwarranted.

The film starts off with the titular posse returning to town. The sheriff was among their party and "looks half-dead". There's a prevailing sense of everything not having gone as planned.

"What happened out there?" the town’s judge asks.

Well, the early reports are that four people were killed, the desert "changed all of us" and they didn't even get ahold of the stolen money which was whole point of mounting up in the first place. Plus, the remaining members of the posse aren’t too keen for the sheriff to make a full recovery, lest he reveal more of went on during that dusty journey.

"What's all this about?" someone else asks.

Thus commences flashbacks to show why the posse was necessary and then what happened when it rode out. Some kind of cattle dispute led to a saloon punch-up and then more than a hundred grand (surely millions today!) got swiped and scarpered off with. It’s established that the now-comatose sheriff is a drunk, but his drinking is clearly spurred on by the kind of guilt that only comes from possessing a strong moral compass, something that puts him at odds with the rest of the men who set out on their horses. And it turns out that the lawman knows a lot more about his fellow posse-mates than they’re comfortable with.

Ultimately, THE LAST POSSE is a THE TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE-style tale of the corrupting power of money, and the lengths to which man’s greed will take him. The flashbacks and flashforwards are pretty sophisticated for 1953, although I guess CITIZEN KANE had been out for more than a decade at that point. Its multiple-perspective structure makes this another RASHOMON-inspired flick, with the Kurosawa classic having been released three years earlier.

It's pacey, with the hour-and-a-quarter runtime leaving little fat on the bones, and the structure is employed confidently to generate suspense, surprises and pathos. It actually feels more like a noir than a western, with its moody tone, double-crosses and duplicitous characters, not to mention the choice to film in black and white.

I don’t know if THE LAST POSSE would have changed the minds of my Year 9 English classmates, but I certainly wasn't bored. It's not even really a ‘typical’ Western, but maybe that speaks to the whole fallacy of the idea of ‘genre’ in the first place.

Three stars out of five.

Valid use of the word ‘last’?  Debatable. After all the kerfuffle this time, it might be a while before the town puts a new posse together. But they were so keen to go in that direction that it seems unlikely they’ll be able to resist next time there’s troubled occurring.

What would a movie called THE FIRST POSSE be about? The first one I came across was Mario Van Peebles' 1993 effort, titled simply POSSE. Well, I remember the video cover, anyway.

Previously:  RAMBO: LAST BLOOD

Next time:  THE LAST KEEPERS

Check out my books:  Jonathanlastauthor.com