A Warning for Anyone Expecting a Good Western
There are westerns, and then there are dusty little misfires like The Desperate Trail, a film so generic and confused it feels like it was shot on leftover sets from a better movie and written during a bar fight between clichés. It’s a made-for-HBO western that tries to do Thelma & Louise meets Tombstone, but ends up being more Blazing Saddles meets a public access audition reel.
This cowpie of a flick stars Linda Fiorentino as Sarah O’Rourke, a tough-as-nails woman with a gun, a grudge, and the kind of one-liners that make you want to slap the typewriter they came from. She’s on the run for killing her husband (relatable), and right out the gate, she’s shackled and in the custody of Sam Elliott—you know, that gravel-voiced patron saint of western masculinity—playing Marshall Bill Speakes, a man so grizzled he probably sweats jerky.
And for a few minutes, it looks like we might be in for a fun ride. Fiorentino spits bullets and sass with a steely glare, Elliott grunts and broods like a man constipated with justice, and there’s a train. A train robbery. Gunplay. Sweaty tension. Promising stuff.
Then the movie keeps going.
And going.
And going…
And you realize pretty quickly that The Desperate Trail doesn’t actually know what it wants to be. A gritty western? A buddy chase movie? A feminist revenge flick? A cowboy noir with occasional slapstick? Yes. All of the above. At once. Poorly.
The script wanders like a drunk mule. Characters change motivations mid-scene. Sarah goes from outlaw to antihero to confused love interest with all the consistency of a horse on roller skates. Meanwhile, Sam Elliott’s marshal is supposed to be her nemesis, then her reluctant ally, then something vaguely resembling a surrogate dad, all while chewing tobacco and spitting wisdom like, “Sometimes the law ain’t justice.” No kidding, Sam. Especially not here.
And then comes Craig Sheffer, playing Jack Cooper, a bank robber with a smile, a gun, and the screen presence of a rolled-up poncho. He’s meant to be a charming rogue, the spark between Sarah and society’s rules. Instead, he’s just… there. Like a human tumbleweed. He gets roped into the plot, bounces between allegiances, and generally exists to deliver bad dialogue while being outacted by the horse he rides in on.
The action scenes? Sloppy and lifeless. Gunfights happen because the movie realizes nothing else is happening. There’s a bar shootout where no one seems to be aiming, a jailbreak that involves more awkward horse wrangling than tension, and a finale that fizzles out like wet gunpowder.
As for the tone, it’s whiplash city. One minute someone’s delivering a serious monologue about loss and vengeance, and the next there’s a punchline about underpants or a pratfall into a water trough. It’s like someone tried to mix Unforgivenwith an episode of Bonanza and used Elmer’s glue to hold it together.
Now let’s talk about the good. Linda Fiorentino, bless her, gives it her best shot. She growls, sneers, and shoots with conviction. She plays Sarah like a woman who’s been through hell and brought some of it back with her. But even she can’t save this movie from its own half-baked ambitions. You can see it in her eyes: the dawning realization that this script isn’t as smart as it thinks it is, and no amount of leather or smirking will change that.
And Sam Elliott? He’s basically playing Sam Elliott. Which is fine. That mustache has more gravitas than the entire plot. But even he seems mildly confused about why he’s here, occasionally staring into the distance like he’s hoping a better movie might gallop by.
Final Verdict:
The Desperate Trail is a dusty stumble through half-formed characters, recycled plot points, and tonal confusion. It wants to be badass, but it’s more half-assed. The cast deserved better. The audience deserved better. The horses probably deserved union protection.
1.5 out of 5 stars.
One star for Fiorentino’s commitment, half a star for Sam Elliott’s mustache. The rest of the trail? Skip it. It’s not desperate—it’s just tired.
