A psycho-killer with mommy issues, a charming crooked cowboy and their girl steel some jewels. The cowboy decides not to share and goes on the run with the loot. A crazy chase across the country between former partners in crime begins.
Three years after his divorce from his model-wife is the psychologist Larry Livingstone ready for a new commitment. He falls in love with the young widow Beth who has two children. But Beth... See full summary »
Summer, 1984: 30 years after Duane captained the high school football team and Jacy was homecoming queen, this Texas town near Wichita Falls prepares for its centennial. Oil prices are down... See full summary »
Scudder is a detective with the Sheriff's Department who is forced to shoot a violent suspect during a narcotics raid. The ensuing psychological aftermath of this shooting worsens his ... See full summary »
A syndicate wants to buy a whole district to rebuild it. They've bought every house except the small gym "Olympic", where Mr. Austria Joe Santo prepares for the Mr. Universum championships ... See full summary »
Two rustic families, headed by patriarchs Laban Feather and Pap Gutshall, are feuding. At first, it is comical, with just the sons of the two families playing tricks on each other. But soon... See full summary »
You don't have to spend much time watching this made for TV movie or series pilot or whatever it was intended to be to figure out just what lies in store. The incredibly bad musical score makes its debut from the start. Seriously, if this isn't the worst theme I've ever heard, I certainly can't remember it. While the acting talent is available here, from Jeff Bridges to Carl Betz, Vera Miles, and Sal Mineo, the writing is atrocious and the story is contrived, filled with insipid stereotypes, and an obvious ripoff from Ken Kesey. Why must Hollywood always present tales from the sixties as if the so-called hippies were all unidimensional morons? It's too bad that such an interesting era in our exceptionally conformist social experience is generally depicted by out and out garbage so that the least offensive of the genre is now accepted as reasonably authentic when almost none of it comes even close to the way things really were. The best I've seen to date is a memoir called Looking Back by a guy named Becker, but who else has even heard of it? No one in Hollywood, that's for sure. They're too busy pushing tripe like this groaner of a movie to bother with reality.
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