Fetid and overblown tripe
10 December 2000
Omaha, Nebraska, had the dubious honour of being the city Tom Laughlin chose to have the world premiere for "Trial of Billy Jack". I wish he'd given the honour to any other city but mine. I can't think of a film that was harder to sit through than this one; it seemed to never end. I had seen "Born Losers" and like it immensely. I'd seen the first Billy Jack, and it was okay. These are the only reasons I went to "Trial", and at 17 I guess you don't need any others; I was there on opening night in 1974.

The memory of the unending torment I endured while watching this film still sits in my brain, like a compost heap that never fully decomposes. Words can't express the boredom and agony of seeing this movie; 45 hours of labor with my first child was not as difficult. I should have walked out of the theater, and in fact, while the girl in the wheelchair was giving testimony, I did, leaving my fiance there to suffer by himself. I spent as much time as I could in the restroom, but knew I had to go back and face the rest of the film, if only for his sake. Run, don't walk, away from this piece of torture, if you're ever in the vicinity of a Billy Jack Retrospective, or find it while channel surfing. Your memory center will be glad you did.
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