The word 'elegiac' might have been invented to describe this film of two cowboys who rather randomly ride off to Mexico in search of... well, something to do.
After one hour and 57 minutes - a period of time that seems bizarrely too short to let the movie blossom into the epic it surely ought to have been - they've met a strange boy who fears lightning but shoots superbly and steals horses; they've been mustang tamers in Mexico; they've been jailbirds; they are parted and reunited; and all to no particular effect. Damon's character, John Grady Cole, somehow manages to attract the sensuous Penelope Cruz into a collage of poorly directed love scenes sometime in between. These scenes offer as much spark as the story offers substance.
There are redeeming features, for the meandering pace of the film reflects the wanderlust of the two central cowboy characters. The time is 1949 and their way of life is slowly being replaced by a faster, formulaic and more frenetic prescription of existence, yet they seem not to notice this as they slowly walk their horses across Texas, the Rio Grande and into Mexico. Matt Damon affecting a John Wayne pose is particularly absurd, for he has none of the great man's screen presence in this kind of character role. Penelope Cruz pouts and sulks and is as convincing as her role allows her to be, but like much else on offer here she is largely forgettable. Even Lucas Black's scene-stealing as the horse thief is brought to an end when he is summarily executed.
This film might grow on viewers after several viewings, by which time said viewers may realise the escapism and alternative culture director Billy Bob Thornton offers; the overwhelming problem is holding the viewers' interest for even the first time.
Thornton, known as an actor rather than a director, seems to direct whilst dreaming and the result is a story of little cohesion, acting by numbers and a plot only scarcely in existence. This is a particular pity for Henry Thomas, famously Elliot of E.T. fame - he's grown up in twenty years yet still has the boyish charm that won over cinema audiences in Spielberg's sentimental blockbuster. For Matt Damon it is a particular pickle, for this is easily the worst movie he has ever appeared in.
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