The Ballad Of Lefty Brown

Greg Vellante READ TIME: 2 MIN.

As a Western, Jared Moshe's "The Ballad of Lefty Brown" has an off-kilter compass. It points north, south and east, yet never quite captures the classic feel of the genre it's aiming to replicate and honor.

It's clear that everyone involved has done their homework. The film is lit, photographed and colored with a rugged palette that resembles polished wood and rust. One can expect gratuitous shots of pistols cocking, horses crossing panoramic landscapes and whiskey shots at the saloon, but anyone familiar with the Western's history will likely just see tedium and repetition. Nothing feels too original in Moshe's blatantly passionate stab at the genre, and that's unfortunate. The Western certainly needs new life breathed into it, but "The Ballad of Lefty Brown" is gasping for air itself.

Set in Montana during the late 1800s, the film's title character (Bill Pullman) spends most of this film's running time seeking justice for the wrongful shooting of his friend. But what the film lacks is any real reason to care. The reasons are all there, don't be mistaken -- we're told generously about the background of Lefty and his friends, the loyalty between them, so on and so forth -- but everything is presented in such a dry and one-note manner that I found my eyes often rolling into the back of my head, teasing me with the temptation that sleep would be a more entertaining option.

Its characters are uninteresting, its acting is choppy and its story bobs and weaves through occasionally entertaining moments that become engulfed by the agonizingly boring ones. It neither redefines the Western nor destroys it; it just pays tribute to its predecessors in increasingly insipid ways. I found no reason to care, and this fact eventually wore me down, leaving me frustrated, disappointed and overwhelmingly relieved when the movie finally ended.

These roads have all been trodden on before. Everyone in this film is just navigating through trenches while trying to pave new ground. Sadly, nobody ever reaches the surface.


by Greg Vellante

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