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Most films like Dead Man’s Hand are really straight forward in explaining why they are as bad as they are, but on this one, it is perplexing a great deal. Sure, there are 18 producers, continuity problems, choppy editing, poor lighting, and amateurish regional community theater performances but on both sides of the camera and a budget that suggests someone of influence believed in all of this so that indicates the opposite. The common culprits drone on about straight vanity projects, amateur backyard movies, or money laundering tax evaders that resemble actual movies – any of which would have worked better than what is so painfully set forth here.
The film stars a stagecoach traveling to Nevada with young gunslinger, Reno (Jack Kilmer), his bride, Vegas (Camille Collard), and a woman with a pair of kids. During the trip, a group of Confederate soldiers attacks their convoy, but Stern troops are dealt with by Reno and Vegas, the former telling the latter, “I let know I man rot,” when it comes to leaving the bodies alone. Instead, Reno opts to pull two of the deceased behind the stagecoach into town, which may be seen as a greater act of desecration than if they had been left to rot.
From what I’ve read, From What I’ve Seen, their arrival is signaled by the grotesque notice of slaughter which gives rise to the ire of the town judge, Clarence Bishop, better known as Steven Dorff who happens to be married to one of the cheese grated meat sacks splayed out of Main St. Reno and Vegas’ entry matches the action of a US Marshall played by Cole Hauser who is simultaneously trying to serve a warrant for the arrest of Bishop, but can’t seem to penetrate the layer of hired thugs surrounding him. Bishop gets to choose his battles and using that advanced knowledge, Bishop seems to have the advantage which puts both of them on their back foot. However, Marshal and Reno join forces with help from a nearby apache tribe to take the fight to the Baddie.
Brian Skiba, Co-writer director editor and producer was in charge of casting contestants for a show where they do everything wrong and poorly. This includes the lighting, blocking, pacing, coaching the actors, and action staging. Continuity errors abound not just onscreen, let’s say kid Kane has a gun in his hand as he stoops down to pick something up. After the shot he’s now gripped with nothing. The match is still ensuring for weapons error. In a wiseuistic moment of inspiration Reno sits down on Mike’s Degerberg and asks someone for the location of you two are heading, there are three people infront of him though.
It’s really astonishing, but the element that makes Dead Man’s Hand go from poorly executed to exceptionally dreadful is Skiba and the film’s lack of attempt to engage in any trope, motif, or symbol of the Western genre in any meaningful or intentional manner. While the lack of effort put into the production and script is criticism enough, the choice to dress a Western hero entirely in black, hat included, without playing with or subverting any of those conventions, tells us everything we need to know about the entire structure of the film. It’s not that examining the film first pass makes it look uninspired: rather, deeper scrutiny shows that it is untethered from any appearance of care or genuine interest on a micro or macro scale towards how the material is handled.
It’s bad and dull from every angle. The action in every scene is poorly planned and unimaginative. The characters shoot and fight with the accuracy of stormtroopers, and the plot armor is ever-present. The cast’s effort differs, with Collard and Dorff putting a great deal of effort in, and Hauser cratering, who can be credited as “Rip Wheeler” because he’s portraying his lawman version of Yellowstone character. The history the movie comes with, with its Confederate villains and Apache allies, also shows a complete lack of knowledge and/or understanding of the time or place, which may be the reason the script never gives the specifics when or where this is.
In fact, leaving it vague was likely the safest option since there is no place in the post-Civil War and pre-twentieth century eras where Apache people are said to have inhabited wigwams in the middle of a Chihuahuan desert containing Confederate resistance cells. Honestly, none of that would be enough to sink the movie if it had engaging characters, an interesting narrative backbone, enjoyable action sequences, genre familiarity, stunning visuals, swift pacing, or even rudimentary continuity… which it doesn’t. Frankly, westerns are not required to be accurate, contain a plot, be full of believable characters, be aesthetic, or be enjoyable to watch, but they most certainly should be able to do at least one of those.
At the moment, there is conflict within the Hollywood screenwriters’ guild and A.I. usage in script writing seems to be of importance, as A.I. could replace imagination with mere algorithms. After watching this film, one muses they only hope the fight was worth it because the output is as vacant, unexciting, mechanical, and dull as this. That sounds harsh, but terrible films can bring out the worst in people, even the most cynical of critics. Here’s to hoping the real writers do triumph in the end, even if it means suffering through productions like Dead Man’s Hand.
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