Impressive location shooting in northern Arizona helps this rather worn plot along, and so does the acting.
Tom Conti, ex teacher and ex Civil War sergeant, his wife Kate Capshaw, and their little boy Kenny Morrison, pull up stakes back east and head out West where a man and his family can escape the violence of the Civil War and breathe the fresh, clean, anarchic air.
They offend one of those crusty, villainous families that are so often offended in these Westerns -- "Shane," "Will Penny," the Clantons -- and Conti and family are pursued by these revenge-driven miscreants over snowy hill and grassy dale.
Well, I'll tell you. They don't know nothing' about survival in the West. Their hides are saved only by the appearance of Sam Elliott in buckskin and leather, toting a repeating rifle and various other gear. Elliott guides them through the wilderness towards the rude log cabin, miles away, that they will some day call home. But, of course, not if the evil family has anything to say about it.
Time and again, the pursuers and the pursued wound one another but each carries on, leaving a trail of blood. The pursuers actually are winnowed down. One by one, they are plugged, except for the youngest, who sensibly decides to hell with it and rides off alone towards home. The rest of the pursuers don't fare so well.
The plot line really is hoary. A pioneer family are unprepared for the violence they encounter and are saved by a romantic, sun-tanned stranger. The family's wife is attracted towards the mysterious savior and vice versa. "Mrs. McKaskel, if you wasn't married I'd of chased you till you dropped," says Sam Elliott, by way of declaring his deep affection for her. Mrs. McKaskel's pretty pale-blue eyes glow with pleasure.
The acting is professional enough. Nobody can complain. Sam Elliott is his usual laconic, masculine self. He has a habit of holding conversations while facing at a right angle to the other, which gives him an opportunity to stare over his shoulder at the person he's addressing. Poor Tom Conti is saddled with a face that's about as interesting as a bowl of porridge, a kind of fleshier Dustin Hoffman, and his voice sounds like he suffers from an adenoid condition. He handles the role very well but those attributes knee-cap his performance.
Kate Capshaw is quite a fox when you get right down to it but she's usually cast as a properly brought up, middle-class figure, as she is here. Only one film, whose title I can't remember, gave her an opportunity to show a slinkier and sexier side. I was genuinely worried about the family's son. He's about ten or eleven years old. I quailed at the thought of another cuddly kid saying cute things, but this kid can act. It could have been awful. He might have had disabling asthma attacks under stress or something. I shudder at the thought. That I never wanted to stomp him like an insect is a tribute to his talent.
I enjoyed the message though. I thought it was carefully considered, thoughtful, and humane. Only Wussies swear off violence. Real men kill.
Tom Conti, ex teacher and ex Civil War sergeant, his wife Kate Capshaw, and their little boy Kenny Morrison, pull up stakes back east and head out West where a man and his family can escape the violence of the Civil War and breathe the fresh, clean, anarchic air.
They offend one of those crusty, villainous families that are so often offended in these Westerns -- "Shane," "Will Penny," the Clantons -- and Conti and family are pursued by these revenge-driven miscreants over snowy hill and grassy dale.
Well, I'll tell you. They don't know nothing' about survival in the West. Their hides are saved only by the appearance of Sam Elliott in buckskin and leather, toting a repeating rifle and various other gear. Elliott guides them through the wilderness towards the rude log cabin, miles away, that they will some day call home. But, of course, not if the evil family has anything to say about it.
Time and again, the pursuers and the pursued wound one another but each carries on, leaving a trail of blood. The pursuers actually are winnowed down. One by one, they are plugged, except for the youngest, who sensibly decides to hell with it and rides off alone towards home. The rest of the pursuers don't fare so well.
The plot line really is hoary. A pioneer family are unprepared for the violence they encounter and are saved by a romantic, sun-tanned stranger. The family's wife is attracted towards the mysterious savior and vice versa. "Mrs. McKaskel, if you wasn't married I'd of chased you till you dropped," says Sam Elliott, by way of declaring his deep affection for her. Mrs. McKaskel's pretty pale-blue eyes glow with pleasure.
The acting is professional enough. Nobody can complain. Sam Elliott is his usual laconic, masculine self. He has a habit of holding conversations while facing at a right angle to the other, which gives him an opportunity to stare over his shoulder at the person he's addressing. Poor Tom Conti is saddled with a face that's about as interesting as a bowl of porridge, a kind of fleshier Dustin Hoffman, and his voice sounds like he suffers from an adenoid condition. He handles the role very well but those attributes knee-cap his performance.
Kate Capshaw is quite a fox when you get right down to it but she's usually cast as a properly brought up, middle-class figure, as she is here. Only one film, whose title I can't remember, gave her an opportunity to show a slinkier and sexier side. I was genuinely worried about the family's son. He's about ten or eleven years old. I quailed at the thought of another cuddly kid saying cute things, but this kid can act. It could have been awful. He might have had disabling asthma attacks under stress or something. I shudder at the thought. That I never wanted to stomp him like an insect is a tribute to his talent.
I enjoyed the message though. I thought it was carefully considered, thoughtful, and humane. Only Wussies swear off violence. Real men kill.