I usually enjoy Sam Peckinpah films, but this slow paced, meandering meditation on the decline of the West just never sparked my interest. There's an excellent cast, great music, stunning cinematography, terrific production design ... all the ingredients are there, but it never came alive for me.

The performances are so understated that the characters have no definition. Kristofferson plays Billy the Kid and James Coburn his friend turned nemesis, Sheriff Pat Garrett. It takes two hours for Garrett and Billy to have their final showdown; in the process they drift languidly through one laconic scene after another. There's a fair amount of gunplay, with the by now banal slow motion deaths, but even the action sequences lack fire.

This is ultimately a meditative, brooding film, which is probably the idea; but it's just too plodding for my taste.

One trivial gripe: whatever they used for blood in this picture struck me as some of the fakiest I've ever seen. It looks exactly like plain red paint. It's actually a distraction, detracting from the impact of the action scenes. It's the one aspect of the production design that rings a false note.