Billy the Kid is both ruthless and bumbling in this impressionistic French-made western. Ruthless, in that he tracks down a witness to a robbery and kills him in cold blood. Bumbling, in that he literally stumbles over things throughout the film.
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Dismantling the legend of the American Western outlaw, one dirt-splattered hissy-fit at a time. A nice feminist revenge flick emerges in the last 30 minutes. Gorgeous, surreal landscape photography. Terrible English dubbing but that's part of the absurd fascination.
It's both fun to laugh at and fun to laugh with. Who can't laugh at the dubbing? Jean Pierre Leaud gives a wonderfully erratic performance, and if there's one thing this movie is, it's consistent with itself. The cinematography and use of locations is good. I think as far as the New Wave goes, this might be the most effective satire on American genres. I do have to say I didn't care at all for the last 15 minutes.