Overly manipulative romance between a wholesome, peaches-and-cream gentlewoman and a ratty desperado. They are played, respectively, by Mary Steenburgen, who looks as if she has stepped out of a Jacques Louis David portrait, and Jack Nicholson, who sounds as if he is in constant need of Dristan nasal spray. Nicholson, working also as director for the first time since Drive, He Said, keeps the camera hovering close to their faces, lavishing equal love on hers and his own; and the movie's considerable charm owes more to her demureness than to his deviltry. The painterly images by the French cinemaphotographer Nestor Almendros whip up a thicker atmosphere than this heehawing Western comedy needs or merits. (1978) — Duncan Shepherd
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