From the first few scenes onwards, I got the impression that Al Pacino really wasn't enjoying his time in 'Revolution', and the aura of apathy which followed the then-recent legend of 'Scarface' more or less destroyed one of the few potentially redeeming qualities of this film. There is a scene towards the end of the film in which the actor seems to muster up some enthusiasm for performance and reminds us that he was the face of Michael Corleone and Tony Montana, and not just a lookalike. The scenes in which Pacino "bonds" with his on-screen son – Sid Owen and later Dexter Fletcher – are near- insufferable, and it becomes very easy throughout 'Revolution' to forget that these characters even know each other. The action in this film felt like a cheap series of re-enactments, common to (but forgivable in) dated documentaries. The first major confrontation between the Americans and the British was enjoyable in places, however, and the score enriched one or two haunting sequences of the irrepressible redcoats, led by Donald Sutherland, marching on the revolutionaries. The attempts to create a drama subplot of Nastassja Kinski's family tensions was not fun to watch, and her pro-redcoat relatives were so quickly introduced and dismissed that they became instantly forgettable. Overall, I do not recommend this film. However, if you have an iron-willed enthusiasm for the American War of Independence, you may derive some minor satisfaction from seeing a world-class actor caught in the middle; but, just as Malcolm McDowell and Peter O'Toole could not redeem 'Caligula' for a less- than-maniacal fan of ancient history, the chances are that you'll still come out unfulfilled.