Silent Tongue

This much maligned and very strange Western is ambitious and interesting in places, but also pretentious, convoluted, silly and frequently boring. Shepard's direction is reasonable, and the main theme effective, but the ghost scenes are accompanied by a poor, pounding score and increasingly daft camera-work. The acting is similarly inconsistent: Mulroney is dire in a well-written minor role, and Bates overacts dreadfully, but Harris is fairly good and Phoenix unforgettable (if underused) in his final role. His first scene is particularly potent and moving. Indeed, whenever River is on screen the movie comes to life: his eccentric turn partly compensating for the long periods of poorly scripted shouting.

Despite some striking imagery, unusual subject matter and unwanted status as River's swansong, the film's expected cult status hasn't materialised, perhaps because it is plot less and pointless. Filmed for French TV in 1992, but not released until 1994, it grossed just $61,274 in the US. For a better, similarly offbeat modern take on the Western, try Jim Jarmusch's Dead Man. Silent Tongue is for Phoenix completists like myself only.