The Last Rites of Ransom Pride

"The body of Ransom Pride belongs to me."

It didn't take me very long to realize that I wasn't going to enjoy The Last Rites of Ransom Pride. Ten minutes, at most. The whole vibe of the movie just turns me off. I like Lizzy Caplan, but putting one appealing actress in the middle of a disaster doesn't do much good. I disliked the way it was filmed, the dialogue, and the absurd, meandering, nonsensical narrative that served as the story.

Basically, Ransom Pride (the man) is a recently dead acquaintance of Juliette Flower (Caplan), and she made a promise to retrieve his body and bury it near his mother. In order to get his body, she has to deliver Ransom's still living younger brother to some seedy folks. Lots of people hate her, lots of people want her dead, and lots of people try to stop her. That's the story. There are lots of unlikeable characters that were utterly ridiculous in their seriousness, the frequent action scenes are terrible, and the entire movie makes little sense. Sounds like a real winner, right?

It's rare for me to truly hate a movie, but The Last Rites of Ransom Pride reached that dubious achievement. This is probably in the bottom two or three movies that I've seen this entire year. The only good news is that I (hopefully) don't have to ever watch it again.

The Last Rites Of Ransom Pride is definitely one weird western where the central character takes a step down from Sharon Stone in terms of social standing. Her boyfriend is the title character played at the beginning and in flashbacks by Scott Speedman and he's gunned down by someone he did not suspect at the beginning. But she promises him as the life oozes out of him on the town street to get his body back across the border for burial.

Speedman comes from a large clan named Pride. Speedman's dad is Reverend Dwight Yoakum who wears the title loosely and his uncle is Kris Kristofferson. They're not the greatest specimens of humanity ever, but they resent their son taking up with a prostitute. And one that shoot and fight like Lizzy Caplan. At least Sharon Stone in The Quick And The Dead was a good girl in an infinitely better film.

Not only do they hold Speedman against Caplan, but now she's involved with another Pride played by Jon Foster. And all the poor girl wants to do is the right thing by her dead boyfriend.

The Last Rites Of Ransom Pride is one terrible waste of good actors and good country singers.

Seriously, too many arty farty reviews here. Sure it's not High Plains Drifter or A Fistfull of Dollars but it's a steady Western. Enough action to keep you watching, a plot which while not being outstanding is simple to follow and a bit of sex appeal in the form of Lizzy Caplan. A large proportion of big(ish) name character actors bring life to what could have been pretty bland characters. All in all an enjoyable flick which really doesn't need over analyzing. View it for what it is. A fun western. If I had to be critical though, I'm not a fan of the single frame cut scenes which seem to be there to flesh out what would be a short story.

It felt like a guilty pleasure watching the undeniably charismatic lead shoot her sultry and sexy way through assorted scuzzy reprobates, in this stylised take on the Western genre. The story involves an entertaining romp along the Mexican American border just after the turn of the last Century, in which early forms of mechanised transport duel with the traditional horsebacked cowboy depiction, and help to capture a changing age. The characters we are introduced to along the way (such as the dwarf/dying Siamese combo) help add to the slightly exotic, almost burlesque feel of the film. There is nothing particularly original here, and it felt like a definite case of 'style over substance'; I thought the final product was slightly let down by some hard-to-hear dialogue, and I couldn't decide if the jarring 'electric shock' flashbacks (or forwards) were too fast for me to keep up with, or just unnecessary. The casting department appeared to have raided the strange world of professional David Beckham lookalikes to fill the supporting role, and his transition from obedient daddy's boy to moody, seasoned side-kick shooter was too sudden and implausible....but then these are minor gripes about a film that doesn't profess much of a basis in historical reality, and is all the better for it. 7/10

A plus for Canadian westerns over Italian westerns is no lip-synch. That pretty much sums it up. There isn't a lot a film crew can do with $8MUSD, and this crew was no exception. Despite a rock solid performance by Dwight Yoakum and good walk-on by Kris Kristofferson, they were the only ones taking their roles seriously. Everyone else involved in the film, most especially the writers, knew this stinker was headed straight to Netflix on demand and exerted themselves accordingly. It's too bad, because if they hadn't been going for bizarre there were elements here of a worthwhile story. Over-the-top performances really kill any character development that begins to rise up, and the indiscriminate use of flashbacks is done just to re-use film and extend run-time without doing anything for the story. I can't believe they actually bothered to bring this dog to Blu- Ray. If you can watch it for free on Popcorm using your Roku and have nothing else to do, have at it. Otherwise, get out and mow the lawn, weed the garden. It's a better use of your time.