Bone Tomahawk (2015)

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Country: US/GB
Technical: col/2.35:1 132m
Director: S. Craig Zahler
Cast: Kurt Russell, Patrick Wilson, Richard Jenkins, Matthew Fox, Lili Simmons

Synopsis:

In the 1890s, somewhere near the frontier (Dakota Badlands?), a skirmish between bandits and cannibalistic troglodytes leads to a raiding party on a small town that sees the doctor and deputy abducted. The sheriff sets out with a three-man rescue party, that includes the doctor's crippled husband, their destination uncertain, the number of their foe unknown.

Review:

The horror iconography of The Hills Have Eyes, The Devil's Rejects and Texas Chainsaw Massacre is here appropriated for a time-honoured Western posse scenario, albeit with modern quirks, such as a surprisingly literate script and female doctor character who alone preserves her sang froid. Excessive length and gruesomeness are complemented with Coen brothers dialogue and gallows humour, disguising the fact that this is really a film about different levels of civilisation: the cutthroats to whom we are introduced in the unpleasant prologue are to the whites what the troglodytes are to the Native American; Brooder's boast that he has killed 116 Indians is belied by his polite discourse and impeccable wardrobe; Chicory's constant patter and comfort in the belief that the flea circus he witnessed was genuine point to a human need for conversation and wonderment that the cannibals have not begun to approach. Whether you can stomach the film's infamous death by butchery is another matter.

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Country: US/GB
Technical: col/2.35:1 132m
Director: S. Craig Zahler
Cast: Kurt Russell, Patrick Wilson, Richard Jenkins, Matthew Fox, Lili Simmons

Synopsis:

In the 1890s, somewhere near the frontier (Dakota Badlands?), a skirmish between bandits and cannibalistic troglodytes leads to a raiding party on a small town that sees the doctor and deputy abducted. The sheriff sets out with a three-man rescue party, that includes the doctor's crippled husband, their destination uncertain, the number of their foe unknown.

Review:

The horror iconography of The Hills Have Eyes, The Devil's Rejects and Texas Chainsaw Massacre is here appropriated for a time-honoured Western posse scenario, albeit with modern quirks, such as a surprisingly literate script and female doctor character who alone preserves her sang froid. Excessive length and gruesomeness are complemented with Coen brothers dialogue and gallows humour, disguising the fact that this is really a film about different levels of civilisation: the cutthroats to whom we are introduced in the unpleasant prologue are to the whites what the troglodytes are to the Native American; Brooder's boast that he has killed 116 Indians is belied by his polite discourse and impeccable wardrobe; Chicory's constant patter and comfort in the belief that the flea circus he witnessed was genuine point to a human need for conversation and wonderment that the cannibals have not begun to approach. Whether you can stomach the film's infamous death by butchery is another matter.


Country: US/GB
Technical: col/2.35:1 132m
Director: S. Craig Zahler
Cast: Kurt Russell, Patrick Wilson, Richard Jenkins, Matthew Fox, Lili Simmons

Synopsis:

In the 1890s, somewhere near the frontier (Dakota Badlands?), a skirmish between bandits and cannibalistic troglodytes leads to a raiding party on a small town that sees the doctor and deputy abducted. The sheriff sets out with a three-man rescue party, that includes the doctor's crippled husband, their destination uncertain, the number of their foe unknown.

Review:

The horror iconography of The Hills Have Eyes, The Devil's Rejects and Texas Chainsaw Massacre is here appropriated for a time-honoured Western posse scenario, albeit with modern quirks, such as a surprisingly literate script and female doctor character who alone preserves her sang froid. Excessive length and gruesomeness are complemented with Coen brothers dialogue and gallows humour, disguising the fact that this is really a film about different levels of civilisation: the cutthroats to whom we are introduced in the unpleasant prologue are to the whites what the troglodytes are to the Native American; Brooder's boast that he has killed 116 Indians is belied by his polite discourse and impeccable wardrobe; Chicory's constant patter and comfort in the belief that the flea circus he witnessed was genuine point to a human need for conversation and wonderment that the cannibals have not begun to approach. Whether you can stomach the film's infamous death by butchery is another matter.