Oh my God, what a mess! There is no narrative flow; indeed anything resembling typical plot devices to keep the story going has approximately the same role in this as dialog has in porno movies...just marking time until the next payoff (in this case, violence, not sex). The women in this movie are invariably employed in one of three ways. They either 1: Expose their breasts; 2: Scream in terror; or 3: Scream in terror with their breasts exposed. Poor Bob Dylan, who from the looks of him was going through a very bad time in his life, has a few scenes looking very uncomfortable atop a horse, for no apparent reason.
Review of Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid
