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Deceived by the title, pondering over a bizarre story, the Indian Runner became like his message: hard to come by. The insinuated events left little true action except for the killing at the beginning. It might be interesting to watch it, though not at a late hour, since it provides too little fascination. Solely enchanting Particia Arquette saved the film from receiving an even lower rating. Good idea, but ...

Few actors who move over to directing have done so with as much success (artistically) as Sean Penn. John Cassavetes, a major source of inspiration to Penn, did so in the past, and Penn is one of the very few to follow in his footsteps who could possibly end up rivalling him as a maker of complex and haunting character based dramas. 'The Indian Runner' was Penn's directorial debut, and it is an extremely impressive achievement. Inspired by Springsteen's song 'Highway Patrolman' (from his underrated 'Nebraska' album from the early 1980s), it is a slow, almost hypnotic look at two brothers with totally different world views and their attempts to come to terms with each other. The siblings are played by David Morse ('Twelve Monkeys') and Viggo Mortensen ('The Prophecy'), and both performances are superb, and career high points. Mortensen is now a major movie star due to his involvement in the 'Lord Of The Rings' trilogy, but for his best acting work look no further than here. The rest of the movie features a first rate supporting cast which includes Valeria Golina ('Rain Man') and Patricia Arquette ('True Romance') as the brother's respective love interests, and veterans Dennis Hopper ('Blue Velvet') and Charles Bronson ('Death Wish'), testament to the respect Penn has in the acting community, I'd say. Bronson, who plays the father, puts in an uncharacteristically subdued performance, one of his best ever. Also keep an eye out for Benicio Del Toro ('The Usual Suspects') in a small cameo, and Penn's mother Eileen Ryan ('At Close Range'). This movie may not be to everyone's taste, but I was knocked out by it. Easily one of the most overlooked dramas of the 1990s. Highly recommended.

I've often argued with myself whether Sean Penn is a better actor or director, but the truth is he's just as captivating a storyteller whether on camera or behind it, and The Indian Runner is a bold testament to the latter, a somber, tragic family drama that leaves the viewer reeling with it's hard luck characters and sorrowful resolutions. Set in the heartlands sometime after the Viet Nam war, Penn's focus is on two brothers who have been at odds with each other years. David Morse's Joe is a farmer turned cop, an even tempered, recent family man with a loving wife (Valeria Golino, what ever happened to her?) and his shit firmly together. Viggo Mortensen's Frank is a volatile, hotheaded veteran, the little brother with a big chip on his shoulder, a fiery temper and wires crossed somewhere deep inside. From the get-go there's tension, and when Frank brings home a naive girl (Patricia Arquette) to start some semblance of a family, trouble really brews. There's hints from director Penn of his own internal turmoil, two wolves that roil against one another represented by the brothers onscreen, and the inevitable violence begotten from the hostile one. It's so strange seeing Mortensen in a role like this, miles removed from not only the stalwart Aragorn we're used to, but from anything else he has ever done in his choosy, sparse career. This is the role of a lifetime for any actor and it's the one he should be remembered for, a maladjusted outsider who rages against civility and can't be controlled, to his own demise and detriment. Morse is always a slow burner, and takes it laconically here, but there's a sadness that burns at the corners of his eyes which the actor exudes achingly well. Arquette captures the stars her character has in her eyes for Frank, and tragically lets them fall in disillusionment when she realizes he's not the man she thought she knew, a splendid arc for the actress to breathe life into. The brother's patriarch is played by a low key, heartbreaking Charles Bronson, probably the last role in which he actually gets to *act*, and not just play a tough guy. He's full of complexity and depth in his brief appearance here, and knocks it out of the park. Dennis Hopper has an extended cameo as an antagonistic bartender, and Benicio Del Toro is apparently somewhere in it as well as he's in the credits, but I honestly couldn't spot him anywhere. The film subtly tackles everything from implied PTSD to biblical references to near mythic aspirations built around a legend that explains the title, but more than anything it's about something as simple as can be: How circumstances shape human beings, how trauma affects us and the ways we interact with each other, what it means to exist and make choices. Penn's fascination with these themes is obvious, skilled and nears profundity in dedication to story and character. A brilliant piece in need of far more exposure than its ever gotten.

A great melodrama in a small town during the seventies about two grown-up brothers; Joe (David Morse), is married and a deputy sheriff who seems to be highly devoted to his job. Frank (Viggo Mortensen), who is the younger one of the pair, comes back from Vietnam even though he has the habit of being a troublemaker.

Morse and Mortensen are nothing short of excellent in their performances and are backed up by a solid supporting cast (Valerina Gorlino, Patricia Arquette, Dennis Hopper, Sandy Dennis, and Charles Bronson). Out of the bunch, Bronson is the one to watch here as the boys' quiet and solemn father and he treats it to perfection. In one scene, he tells Joe while they're sitting out on the porch that he was wrong about Joe marrying Maria (Gorlino), who is Mexican.

There another surprise that makes the film more compelling to watch is that it's the directing and writing debut of actor Sean Penn. The movie was inspired by the Bruce Springsteen song that's called "Highway Patrolman".

Anthony Richmond's cinematography is extroadinary and the musical score by the late Jack Nitzsche is very solid.

"The Indian Runner" presented a rare and very interesting question to me: "Why doesn't any movie director make a film that shows the two sides (bright and dark) of the director themself?"

In conclusion, this movie is intelligent and seriously moving. And it shows that Penn can write and direct beside act.

There are a few of us who feel that Sean Penn is one of the major driving forces in American cinema, an actor of pure artistic intentions, utter sincerity and empathy, and thoughtful (if often misconstrued) politics. He's kind of an heir to a few different giants -- Brando, in terms of rough sexuality and pugnacity; Nicholson, in terms of intelligence as an actor (he shares with both a volatile, sometimes over-the-top acting style and tendency to play human beings with emotions rather than playing acting techniques); and Cassavetes, emphasized with this film (which he dedicates to him). He's more meticulous and crafty than Cassavetes, but just as emotionally direct. (And like him, there may be times where you don't know what to think of what you're seeing; I think that's true of anything original, or anything that eschews typical film conventions.) But despite that similarity, the film isn't quite real -- the Indian mythos, the narration of David Morse, Viggo Mortenson hopping on a moving train. It's the stuff of hazy dreams. The whole picture is imbued with a quiet feeling -- you wish you could show it to those on the right who hate Penn for his outspoken politics, just to prove that he cares deeply about exactly the type of people they think he and his Hollywood friends are against.

At first the Indian stuff is a little cheesy, but it leads up to a climax where it really works and feels organic. More than being an actor who can direct, Penn is at times a real master -- he's got a rare gift of ending films with a real punch, without it being cheap. Here, the film gets more technically flamboyant as it goes along -- the camera moves a little more, the inter cutting between a few different scenes gets quicker -- and it ends wonderfully. You have to have a certain willingness to go along with the story that Penn's telling (many times characters do things that don't make any logical sense, but emotionally it fits), and the semi-metaphysical closing really worked for me.

Part of the value is in the chance to see good actors work; it's strange that actors known for their histrionics so often direct films that are completely devoid of showiness in terms of acting. That is to say, when Mortensen freaks out on his wife (Patricia Arquette, whose constant squeals are incredibly -- and aptly -- uncomfortable), it's tense because of the exchange of emotions and not because of any actorly shaking or screaming. Penn is a very generous director, and I think that's shown by his allowing Charles Bronson to do some of the finest work of his career. The movie feels very indebted to the '70s, what with a few of the zooms, the folk/rock music, and the kind of small, rural movie this is that rarely gets made anymore. (It owes something to Dennis Hopper's own films, I think; specifically in Mortensen's speech about the "math kids.") 8/10