This film is so bad, it is almost good. It is so different, so off-center, so oblique, that it challenges the audience. The cinematography, by James Glennon, is lush; images bathed in dust and golden light, drenced in blood-red sunsets and shimmering mirage riders, ghost-like apparitions. I think it is admirable that Yoakam had enought influence, enough money, enough good friends, and enough ego to launch this dark confused tale. But, alas, it does not emerge as eclectic as Jim Jarmusch's mini-classic,"Dead Man". We all love a western, and Yoakam can be applauded for purposefully breaking down many of the cliches of the genre. Next time though, sir, please procure blanks for your handguns that do not sound like cap pistols.

The movie has been called self-indulgent, and it is; tedious, even egregious. Actually, what it is remains closer to a labor of love falling leagues short of coherence. It was poorly written. Without strongly defined characters, clear conflicts, and fully-realized conclusions, we struggle as viewers. At times, the film becomes too esoteric; like Dennis Hopper's "The Last Movie", one suspects the cast had fun doing it, but where's the fun in watching it ? No one wants a film to fail. We search for those tiny nanoseconds that elevate, entertain, and enlighten us.

The movie is populated by bizarre characters portrayed by a bevy of terrific actors. Yoakam, as U.S.Marshall, Val Casey, is at ease in front of the camera; but Val comes off as shallow posturing. Where is the anger, inner strength, and passion ?
Several times in the semblence of a plot it is mentioned that an official government letter exists, and in it is the information that Valentine Casey was deceased; that he had died in Cuba in the Spanish-American war. When confronted with this conundrum, Val just stares wistfully toward the horizon. So, as an undercurrent, we wonder if Val is really an avenging spirit, or if the whole movie represents a nightmarish dream ?

Joe Unger, as the outlaw Nogales, makes a strong impression, finding a real person within the absurdity of the script. Billy Bob Thornton, Peter Fonda, Matt Clark, and Bo Hopkins, sleepwalk through their brief scenes, lending their visage and names to the project. Bridget Fonda, as Adelyne, is credible, considering her character is written incoherently. The Henry Clan are the heavies. They are led by Luke Askew, astride a primitive wheel chair, spouted biblical platitudes, manning a machine gun mounted on his wagon, and finding time to bugger his daughter. Vince Vaughn cuts a wide swath as Taylor Henry, the most lethel of the bunch; killing without remorse, ice-blooded and stone-faced. Comic relief is provided with the bawdy flavor of Shakespeare; down, dirty, and bloody. Bud Cort is dipped in [foul stuff], stripped, humiliated, beaten, and shot. Paul Reubens, as Arvid Henry, seethes like a [unique] gunslinger, bouncing about like a Marx brother; murdering, [abusing], stealing,... Michael Jeter, as the uncle, gets to whine, beg, howl, cajole, and [be abused],... Terry McIlvain, as Val's sidekick, U.S.Christmas, is costumed in a colorful skirt, like a South American gaucho, and he makes the most out of his screen time.

...this one could become a cult classic.